Friday, November 29, 2019

Tim Returns

”Tim” is a guy I only kind of knew when he lived in town. We had made plans a few times, but they always fell through. However, he was kind of an ultimate.

Tim, on paper, and over the phone, was dirty. Probably in every way. He liked sex regardless of the consequences, of how he interacted with his partner, or more importantly, how he didn’t. He was truly one for ‘sex without feelings’. He cared about his pleasure and his and his alone.

I think my attraction to him, besides his fucking handsome face, was that. I was on the other end of that spectrum, I was ok with “sex without feelings”, but I cared about their pleasure and theirs and theirs alone. Not mine.

This would work better if Tim was a total top, but he wasn’t. So depending on his moods, needs and wants, sometimes our attempts would be short lived.

Ironically, I had much better luck with him when he came back to town for visits. One was in a trendy hotel – which suited him, as he is completely trendy. I wrote about that here.

What I never wrote about was our next encounter. He messaged me out of the blue. He was in town and down to fuck. This was a while back – two years, maybe? But I keep a running list of encounters of which to write about, and this remained on it. I should have done it sooner, as I’m sure I’ll lose / miss some of the detail / nuance.

Tim was staying at friend’s house, and they were for the moment out of town. He invited me over. The house turns out to be huge. It was McMansion-like, but right on the water. The place was impeccable. Everything in white or off white. And it was January. I felt bad about being there in my work boots with snow and such on them. Tim didn’t seem to care, as he led me to the fully finished basement.

This place had to have like 8,000 sq ft. Tim takes me into a walk-in closet in the basement and closes and locks the door. Mind you, he told me the house was empty and the peeps were gone, but who the fuck knows. Oddly, I’m just thinking that now, not then.

Tim is like 6’3”, chiseled face, great features – strong chin, blonde (which isn’t normally my type), in clothes he looks like has a great body. Without, like a lot of us, could use some work. But he has a nice thick 7”.

I know he felt rushed for time, but he was all over me from the word go. We pawed at each other – chest, nuts, cock. We kissed violently. It seemed the right thing to do – as we wanted that closeness without feeling intimate, and that was a way to achieve it. It was sloppy, it wasn’t sensual as it was necessary.

I got pushed to my knees and I was happy to be there. He leaned back into a high chair or stool. I nuzzled his cock, and it went in my mouth, followed by a good face fucking. Tim has a firm grip and dirty mouth. “cocksucker”, “faggot” and the likes passed his lips as easily has his shaft was passing mine.

It was a little unexpected when he shot a sizable load. It was quick, it was tasty, though some got in my beard. This is not a complain.

He pulled me up and kissed me. His tongue probing my mouth, no doubt tasting his semen. I think that was part of his goal. Then he want to his knees. He is an expert cocksucker and a bigger pig than myself – which is kind of saying something.

We swapped between his lips on my peen and then on my actual lips. Now and then, he’d wet his cock with spit, as he was jacking the entire time. Still hard. #It was then he quickly turned me around and pushed my shoulders over. Face down, while standing, bent over……vulnerable, but willing.

As this entire encounter was rushed, so was this: JAMMED his 7” up my hole. His minimal spit my only lube. I won’t lie, it stung. And I grunted, but not loudly. While outwardly I wasn’t really thinking about folks in the house, I think years of training on these stolen places to have sex was engrained in my psyche. He grunted too…………calling me every name, but not loudly. Telling me to take his dick and the load he’s always wanted to give me.

I’m guessing the fuck lasted less than 5-7 minutes. He pulled me back on his cock by my shoulders and shuddered. Spasms racked his body and into mine. His DNA flooding my guts – a second load, one for each hole of mine.

I did the generous thing and slid off his cock and to my knees, cleaning that thick shaft, but he pushed me off it fairly quickly. He was done. Done with the act. Done with me being in his friend’s house. Possibly done with me.

I went back into the cold, literally and figuratively. If he’s been back to town since, he hasn’t given me notice or a shout out.

Sunday, November 03, 2019

Cigars and Piss

It had been a while, but not for lack of trying. My one quasi-consistent Cigar Guy “Chris”. He travels a lot and is temporarily living with family while he waits to move into his new place. But he was horny, as was I. So, he offered the garage, where we have played before.

Since the last time – which was FREEZING, as I recall – now we had a nice warm day. I’d be taking some time away from the office to do this play, but that wasn’t ever going to be an issue. First, I had to stop and cigar store and purchase two for him. My choosing, as he seemed fine with it. As I had seen him smoking a Camacho before, that is what I chose – but two different kinds. Again, I don’t smoke, per se, but he looks good with a cigar, so………….I do what I have to.

But as we chatted a bunch beforehand, I know he’s kind of into piss. Now, mainly, he likes me to piss on him, which is ok, but it kind of ruins the dynamic for me. Not the pee part, but the who is kneeling for whom. I don’t want big, masculine cigar guy to get below me for me to piss on. If anything, I’d rather him piss on me. And I told him so.

As you can imagine, this sparked conversation on the matter. I told him we should try it and he didn’t even hesitate to say ‘yes’. So it was on.

I get there and present him with his cigar. As he lights it up, I strip down. He is already naked and sitting in a lawn chair. I kneel.

As it turns out, this session would be less about me sucking cock than it would be about other things. It’s piss. Still I sucked, because I am at heart, a cocksucker. And he likes to kick back with his cigar while I service him. And I like to – and the way it looks, and the way it makes me feel. Win win.

It was warm out, but not super warm, so I had my white work t-shirt on. He stands up and I start to as well, for some possible other foreplay, but he tells me to stay kneeled. I do. Cigar parked in his jaw and one hand on his cock, he stands there………..still. But then it starts. The torrent of piss. My chest. My face. My head. My now open mouth.

Yes, the piss hits my mouth and my extended tongue. I won’t say I drank is piss, but my mouth would fill up – no doubt some went down, but most splashed back to the floor. Again – I’m learning. I’m trying to anyways. He has a lot of it. The t-shirt I have is soaked, due to his piss hitting directly or it running from my head on down. He stops. His hand on my head, I’m guided back to his cock for sucking. Then a face fucking.

He reaches down and plays with my nipples, which is just cruel. He is not into fucking. I think in general, not specifically me. He knows it makes my hole twitch and when I tell him so, he even raises and eyebrow and goes, “oh yeah??”. It’s not quite mocking me, but he knows it’s a huge fucking tease.

There is a round two of piss. If possible, there is more this time than the first. I don’t know how he stores it without his bladder bursting, but he’s a champ. His piss is pretty clear. It’s obvious he’s been hydrating all day. And it looks like he’s taken in tons of water. He doesn’t insist at all about me drinking it. He’s happy when it hits my face and mouth. He’s fine when I take some, and fine when it goes from my mouth to the floor, running down my body in the process. And I do swallow some…………on purpose. Small steps.

He is big on the cigar too. He likes to touch the unlit end on my nipples and rubs them with it. It’s a nice visual, but it doesn’t do anything for me. It’s not a finger playing with my nip. He also likes to put the lit end near it. I get this from his end. From mine, it’s just a time to get burned, though he doesn’t.

He likes to kneel and haul on the cigar and then exhale on my cock. It’s a good look, him there that close to my shaft. He then takes the red hot cigar and places it awfully close to my dick. You can feel the heat. It has happened before, where he has slightly burned me. I won’t lie, it hurts. And this time, he did it again. I’m always under the assumption it is an accident, and he always seems remorseful, but as I started typing this sentence, I ‘m wondering. I suppose it is totally plausible that it is on purpose and he’s seeing what he can get away with. No scars were left.

Chris likes me to piss on him too. I’m not a piss shy guy, but it takes me a while of standing there before I can muster what needs to be done. He sat in his lawn chair in the middle of the garage smoking, while I pissed on his. It was not as much or as clear as he had, but he seemed to revel in it. It landed mostly on his chest, belly and crotch. He didn’t look like he was going to drink it, as the cigar was in his mouth. His fist moved on his cock as I pissed.

I went down after wards and sucked his cock – the one coated with my piss. He was rock hard and loved my mouth on it. I could feel his cigar near my head, the heat passed as his hand went behind my head. He used that to brace himself as he stood up in front of me. “That’s it, you dirty cocksucker. You fuckin’ faggot”.

I do love when a masculine cigarman gets verbal. It pushes all my buttons.

His hand has dropped and his cigar is right in front of me. He doesn’t ask. I don’t even know if he wants me to. I lean forward, only by a little. He either wants me to, or I’ve planted the seed in his head. He turns the cigar towards my mouth. It goes between my lips. I draw on it. Once. Twice. I come off it and exhale on his cock.

The cigar remains there. I repeat those previous steps. More so this time. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve tried smoking in my life. And never a cigar. I did ok, but that did kind of make me slightly off balance. Maybe lightheaded. It wasn’t unpleasant, but nothing to make a habit of.

I went down on his cock again. Repeatedly.

”Stand up”. I do. Immediately.

Bend over”. I do. “Spread those cheeks”. Of course I comply. This is too good to contemplate. And it is. Fucking wasn’t in order. His hand connects with my ass. As god is my witness, as many guys have smacked my ass, no one has made such a solid connection in touch and sound. It is bound to leave a print. I’d be proud to wear it. #But then, a hot stream of piss hits my hole. It goes over my hairy cheeks and down the crack, but mostly it lands right on my pucker. It runs down my legs and across my feet. So literally, at this point, I’m covered head to toe in his urine. And he’s rock hard at that thought.

Get on it. Now!”. He’s now excited to the point of no return. I take him in my mouth and he pushes me away just a bit. “It’s going on your face and in your beard”. And it does. It’s a decent load, not a huge one. It hits my tongue. It hits my beard and cheek. It wear it with pride.

When he clams down a bit, he reaches down, scoops up his cum and feeds it to me with his fingers. I eat it hungrily. He looks down on me – pleased, yet with no grin. He is a master of stoicism. It’s kind of hot to me.

I finally get off my knees. I’m drenched in piss, sweat and cum. It’s only lunch time. I still have to work. I actually struggle to get the piss covered t-shirt off my head. As much as I’d like to go back to work like this, I head home and rinse off. I have to change shirts too, as the one I was wearing now smells like cigar smoke.

It isn’t the first time………and it won’t be the last.

Wednesday, October 09, 2019

Back to the Beginning

So, there I was, not far from where I grew up.

I don’t live far from there anyways, but I knew due to circumstances, there was almost no reason for me to be out this way again. Everything from my childhood was almost gone. But since I was out that way, I took a slight detour from the errand I was to be running.

There is an extensive park system near where I grew up. Rideable by bike, though it was a haul from my parent’s house to there, but if so motivated, it was doable. And since at the time I didn’t have a license, biking, it was.

I’ve written about this place a few times. Not that the pieces were about this park, just some of my experiences that took place in the woods. Like my first time.

While I committed my first time to this blog, it’s not a story I tell often. More often than not, it elicits some kind of sadness from others. I don’t think I tell the story the wrong way – I relay it truthfully, but I suppose if you weren’t in my shoes, it the tale does seem cold, heartless, and yes, rape-y. Hence, the sad responses I get from most I tell it to. There are those, who are aroused by it. I’m ok with that. That experience made me who I am………..or what I am, I guess.

They say lightening doesn’t strike twice, but that’s a lie. If conditions are there the first time, chances are, it’s a good place for it to take a second swipe. But this is decades later. Gone was the cinder block outhouse with the scrawlings of cocks and number and hastily hand written ads. Gone are the picnic tables that men might loiter near, waiting to see what is what.

What was still there were the woods. And the paths.

There were 2-3 cars already in the parking lot. I’d use this lot once I got my license and could borrow dad’s car. But until then, I leaned my bike up against a tree. Some people were sitting in the cars this day. One car was empty. That meant they could be back in those woods, or have gone to take a run throughout the park.

I wasn’t really looking for dick this day. Honest. I mean, should it present itself, I doubt I’d turn it down. But I got out of my car, and took off down this trail.

After you’re in the woods, there are several paths one could take. With nods to Robert Frost, I took the one less traveled. The one that made all the difference.

It was this path that I followed a stranger – a man – down, after he gave me a certain look that would draw me in. I had not heard the word ‘cruising’ yet, so I had no frame of reference or what exactly should and should not be done. There were protocols, but a boy my age wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, know such things.

This day, I followed that same path.

Then, like now, the path wasn’t a widely traveled one. More often than not, you had to push your way through thicket or scrub bushes. To take this path, you really had to want it. The terrain is hilly. Some are quite steep, some more gradual. This was the latter. But it led down. Down down down. Until you came to a slight clearing………….here.

I didn’t go down to the exact space where “it” happened. I stood up here on a slight ridge, looking down at the scene, the way an observer might have that very day, or other days when someone was down there doing something that happened in those woods at that time.

Like that mythical observer, whom I’m assuming would have been turned on, I too became aroused. I thought in detail of the encounter. Every detail. I don’t romanticize it to make it more palatable. I relived it the way I remembered that day. That day that would change my life.

No one was around. I unzipped. I took out my semi-hard dick and made it hard. I stroked. I looked at the spot in the distance. I knew what had gone on there. I know how aroused he was – and I knew why. I might not have then, but through the years, I tried to see it from his point of view too. I kind of became harder.

I jacked my dick, not even closing my eyes, as one might when initiating self-pleasure. I played the scene in my head. I took it past that even, as to what he helped form, what I’ve become. How, in so many ways, I’ve searched him out in other men…………so many other men. At 15 I wanted acceptance and found this. I’m still looking for acceptance and validation with each guy who fucks me – be it my ass or mouth.

Don’t let that sound sad to you. I’m at peace with that. It’s true to a level in all of us, I just recognized it early and are a good terms with it. Actually it fuels me – as fleeting as it cums and goes.

I thought about him loading my ass down there in the clearing. I remembered him standing over me as he straightened himself up. I remember him just walking away as I lay there in the dirt and leaves with my first load of semen up my butt.

I shot all over the ground and the nearby plants as I envisioned that. Years later, I finally left my load, near where he shot his.

I have no reason to come back to this place anymore. While it’s my present and future, it’s really my past. As I walked out of there, I passed a guy on the paths who looked me up and down, kept walking but would look over his shoulder at me.

Good luck, mister.

Wednesday, October 02, 2019

Expanding Limits

Let’s talk about piss – shall we?

My menu of things I sexually won’t do is way shorter than the ones I would. There will always be a ‘no’ list, but I would like to make it a little shorter.

Before I get into a few stories down the road in other posts, I feel this piece is needed to set the stage. So this won’t be an active sex post, per se, but a launching pad.

I know I’ve mentioned piss here and there before, but not in great numbers and even in limited context.

My first time with urine, was with a hot guy (well, late 1980s hot) who would eventually go on to be on the cover of Inches magazine. I first met him in a bookstore where he abruptly left our booth – and I thought he’d just taken off. Turns out, he met another guy, got the guy off into his hand and brought it back to the booth in which I was residing and made me eat it from his hand. I’ll admit, it was hot.

Cut to months later, I was sucking him in my apartment and he gripped my head. I felt him “cumming” and thought it was soon into the bj to shoot. It took me a few seconds to realize it wasn’t cum. I tried pulling off but his grip got tighter. I swallowed…………some. But he wasn’t controlling the flow..or if he was, he was making it like a hose. Too much, too fast. We made a mess. I always felt that was my bad intro into piss and it became a non-starter for me later in life, not that the opportunity came up much.

I’ve played in Monterrey, home, a hotel and a guy’s place other times. The first two were guys pissing on me. It was ok. The hotel, I was drunk and a guy wanted to come over, eat my ass and drink my piss. I had a lot to give and he took it like a champ. And the guy’s house, well, I think I wrote about (maybe all of these) before. He had a pitcher of water and wanted me to suck him but fed me some piss. Controlled, but still a lot. We didn’t get far.

I have a mental hang up with piss and it manifests itself physically. Clearly, no issues taking cum. I eat as like a hero! So why piss? I get the more yellow it is, the smell alone is a turn off for me. But I find even with the running clear, I can take a small swig and then I start to involuntarily gag.

A normal person would just say the act is off the menu. The thing is: I don’t want it to be. But I don’t know how to get over it. #A few years back, at CLAW, I approached a guy who claimed to be into hypnosis. I asked if it is possible to by hypnotized to get over this and to be able to drink and swallow piss. He said yes. We have back and forth emails, but never came to an agreement to do it. It’s still on my radar.

I did reach out to friend in Philly who took up drinking piss later in life. “Sam” went over to a guy’s house he met on line. The guy wanted him to try it, and had him lean over the toilet, so if it didn’t go well, he could just piss in there. But it did go well. Sam and the trick were both surprised that he drank everything. This still stumps me on how someone can do that first time.

Sam told me, it’s like the idea of eating ass. You probably weren’t wild about it. And I wasn’t. But I remember the reaction from the guy I did it to. And that I grew to like it. And then you kind of make it a mission to keep doing it. But like Sam and piss, I was drawn to eating butt immediately. So I got the analogy, just not how to get over the piss barrier.

Oh – and the funny thing about Sam is, he loathes the idea of getting piss on him. No one is pissing on him and even if it accidentally hits him, he’s done. So we have opposite experiences with this body fluid.

Sam and I talked extensively about the ‘no’ list and how after piss, I might be done with crossing things off – like the sounding kit he bought but refuses to use as he wants nothing stuck up his piss hole. I get it. Totally. But I said scat is a non-starter, and while he isn’t into that he did say there are worse things like blood and pus. PUS?? I chided him for what kinds of groups he might be running with. You can keep women and animals too. Not on my list. I’m sure there is a litany of other things that are the way outliers that I wouldn’t even care to know about.

All that said, I’m willing to hear people’s comments (they can email me privately, as opposed to comments)

And all that said, I have been playing more and more with piss. You read about the guy in the public stall who drank mine, but I have no issue giving (unless I’m pee shy suddenly). I have a few guys that it’s come up as of late, so we will delve into that here and there.

Let’s see how (or if) this all unfolds.

Monday, September 16, 2019

New Trip to Columbus

I was back in Columbus just after a month and half from being there the last time. As is my M.O., I opted for the same semi-dingy motel, as while the rooms are mostly clean, it seemingly has great traffic for guys just wanting to get off and go. And the doors are all outside, so no schlepping through a lobby for a stranger to buttfuck another stranger.

This outing was successful, but not SUCCESSFUL. There would be a total of five loads I’d take, and one I’d give. Two of the takings I won’t even bother writing about – they were that underwhelming. I even like a good ‘bad fuck’ story, but they weren’t even that.

Guy #1 was the best. I think the other guys were probably as milquetoast as they were because they could and would never measure up to this guy. He was quick to respond to my BBRT ad, and immediately was OTW, as his text would say.

Maybe mid 40s, 6’. 200-ish. All solid. Built as fuck. He had a ball cap on and could tell he was sweaty underneath it – as it was in the mid 90s. I couldn’t tell at this point that he was a ginger. I can count on half a hand how many times I’ve played with those.

He immediately drew me in for a kiss. I wasn’t expecting that from a BBRT guy, let alone one this masculine. But fuck if he didn’t know how to. He had a firm grip on the back of my head, pulling me closer to him, though it wasn’t physically possible. Great lip and tongue action. It’s during this he took off his hat and tossed in on the table. His hair was matted down with sweat but still incredibly hot. That said, I liked the redneck-ish look he had going on with the cap.

The kisses were wet as can be, which was hot. He liked using his spit to lubricate both our mouths. He drew back a little and put a solid line of drool into my mouth….directly from his. I drew back even further and opened my mouth. Too far to trail his saliva. Not far enough away to spit it at me and my mouth. Without saying a word, he totally got it. And then I did. About half landed in my beard, half in my mouth. HOT! … least to me.

With applied pressure, I went to my knees. Sometime before this he had kicked off shoe and pants – no underwear to be had though. I was there in my new neoprene shorts. A pouch for my cock – with a detachable cod piece and an open / accessibility to my ass and hole. Score!

His cock was a little over 6”, but thick….and thicker the farther it got to the base.

I was going to enjoy sucking this, but my mind really took me to how it was going to feel taking it up the pooper. He was too, I believe. Afterall, this was a BBRT hook-up, not He ordered me (yes, ordered!) to the bed. I obeyed. Face down, just as he stated.

At first it was flat on the bed, but that didn’t work for starting off, so I was up on my knees at the edge of the bed. Once he pushed his way in – and it seems I took it up the pooper just fine, thank you! – then he scooted me up onto the bed, so we were both kneeling. Total doggie.

Not surprisingly, the man knew how to fuck. He was nice but forceful. There were times he was not as nice and forceful. I like those times. He might have been about my ass, but honestly, I think he was all about his cock. How to make it feel good and that I was supposed to do the same. I’d like to think I did my job.

He liked the deep fuck, as did I. At some point, I was down flat on my belly, him totally on top of me with every ounce of his manly weight – his chest hair on my back. His cock buried up my hole. Right now, for this point in time, it was his hole.

Red would hammer that hole and then stop, to the point like it felt that he was about to slip out, but not on purpose. Almost as if he pounded to keep his cock hard and not go soft. But that’s only what it felt like to a guy who was face down in a pillow. As he did it over and over again, I finally caught on – and I outright asked, “is Sir edging himself with my ass?”. The answer was a sly affirmative. He was very proud of himself – as he should be.

This would go on for another 15 minutes. Him ploughing, me taking.

He wasn’t ready to unload. He made that clear. But I think we’ve all been there at one time or another where we think we have control of our orgasm, until we don’t. That point we’ve passed without wanting to or even realizing it necessarily until it’s too late. The bonus for him was, his cock was exactly where he wanted it to be when he lost that control. Up. My. Ass.

I have no idea when the last time he came was, but he just kept throbbing up my hole and moaning the entire time. It was a big load. And I was not only taking it, but as I’m apt to do, I used my muscles to make sure no drop was left behind.

Eventually, he slipped out and rolled over on his back – spent. But I wasn’t. I slithered down and he looked down at me, I looked up, he nodded, giving me the nonverbal go-ahead. I took is recently extracted cock into my mouth. I tasted lube. I tasted cum. I tasted sweat. I tasted my ass. Clean ass, for sure, but ass nonetheless. He looked pleased – more with himself than with me. Of course, that is my take, or my hope.

As he started to dress, it was clear kissing was now off the table. Not only was my mouth a wonderful petri dish, he had no reason to work me up…..or himself. So I knelt. I’d take his cock in my mouth for short swipes. But I looked up, he down – and still unspoken, just planted his spit across my face from three feet above. He nodded at me and left…….me still on my knees.

Sunday, September 01, 2019


This was his profile pic.

It evoked a big hose of which multitudes of liquid came out. It seemed so blatant, I never saw it as Freudian or even subliminal. It looked like outright boasting. I was intrigued, as any cocksucker might. As he was only a few thousand feet from me, I reached out.

I get it’s an app, and while it looks like IM, the ‘instant’ portion rarely is. As it turns out he was at work, but he is one of these guys who looks, types what he needs to and then immediately signs off. So ‘I’ is never going to be this guy’s game. Truth be told, I set these apps up so long ago, I don’t know my password, so I never do a hard ‘log off’. I made, probably incorrect, assumptions that if I wasn’t active on the site after x amount of time, I went ‘inactive’. I have nothing to back that up.

Still, we engaged. He seemed interested. Then he’d disappear. Then repeat x 10. But at some point the stars aligned. He was free, leaving work before heading home to the wife, and possibly kids. Definite wife though. Oh, and I was home, so we had a place and an opportunity. He was timely. Showed up when he said – so, as we all know, that is a rarity.

He said he was 41, but if he is, then I’m 29. I mean, he had to be 50+, but that’s fine. It’s fine for me. For the Grindr crowd, he may as well be in assisted living and using a walker. He also said 6’5”. Maybe two inches shorter he was, but his 220lbs were probably on the mark. His cock was NOT a firehose. I mean, it wasn’t that large or thick. All very average with a slight upward curve. Still cock fit nice into my mouth – but I’m skipping ahead….barely, but…………….

I love there was no pretense to stripping down. He showed soft and I was worried about the size, or lack off. I dropped my shorts and his big manly hands enveloped my dick. I wasn’t hard yet, but it didn’t take long. His ended up springing up to about 6”, maybe a little more.

As I knew there’d be nothing but oral – me on him – there was no foreplay. It was me on my knees taking his cock into my mouth. The dick grew more, not as much in size as it did in hardness. He firmed up nicely.

This was a guy who liked to sit when getting sucked. I get it, but for the true cocksucker experience, I think I like a guy looming over me – looking down on me, literally and figuratively. Yes, a guy can kind of do that sitting back, kicking back looking down at his cocksucker. Just my personal preference, but sitting was his and since he was the feeder, he was going to win on that front.

Don’t get me wrong, I did a great job (or so I think) on his cock, but the act itself wasn’t horribly redefining in terms of blowjobs. He told me initially, he’d be happy if a guy only used his lips and tongue. I took that to mean he didn’t need deep-throated nor did he need my mouth exactly. Obviously, all of it is part of the mouth, but I’m thinking he didn’t need the deep suction necessarily. While I tried my best, some habits are hard to break. It was a challenge to use only the lips and tongue. I tried as much as possible.

What was a little more unique was the pre-cum.

So. Much. Fluid. !!!

Most guys don’t cum this much, let alone pre-cum this much. Tons of it running over my tongue and down my throat. And it tasted so fucking good. He saw what I was doing and how I figured it out, and he nodded accordingly, adding, “yeah, it’s a lot, isn’t it?” Clearly I wasn’t the first to sample volume of this liquid.

I know guys like the reward of the blowjob, sometimes more than they like the work. Personally, and I’ve said this before, I like to process of extracting the cum. I like the way a guy stiffens. The way he responds to my skills – whether they are verbal, physical, mental – as I adjust my method depending on the feeder. I like changing my tactics per guy, as each one is not the same to what will eventually get him off. And for many men, what is good at the start of the session is not what is going to get him across the finish line. It’s all about knowing and paying attention to signals.

I do HATE using my hands. Hate it. I find it to be cheating. That said, some guys like it. Some guys need it. It isn’t always a reflection on my skills, but I take it that way, whether I should or not. I feel like my mouth and I fail. By the end of this session, he asked for it. My hand, that is.

I refuse to use my entire hand, though I guess it has happened. I usually make an enclosure using only my thumb and forefinger. I do a very gentle touch up and down the shaft. There is rarely a full grasp on anything. Something about that action makes me feel it’s more erotic than cheating. I do like to say, “it’s a blowjob, not a hand one.”

Still, that action got him to the edge. And over.

And……fuck! That firehouse gushing ‘water’? Yeah, it’s an accurate depiction. I should have figured that if his volume of pre-cum was so voluminous, that the amount of his actual white gold would equal that (at least), just at a more of violent release and a much shorter time period.

The man did not disappoint. He had a LOT of cum. I swallowed a LOT of cum. He was impressed. He liked what I did. He told me he needs drained at least twice a week from “someone like you”.

As he dressed, he said, it’s a good thing he jacked off earlier that day, as I would have never been able to keep up.

That was cute, if not horribly inaccurate. And I told him so. He got a glint in his eye and accepted my challenge not to jack off for a few days before my next feeding. Here’s hoping. I know I can do my part. Oh – and he’s totally down with pictures of me doing it. YAY!

Monday, August 26, 2019

Last Day

It was his last day working at the same place I had been. He was a pharmacist that I had blown a number of times. Physically he was fine, but at first glance, I’d say he wasn’t “my type” – which honestly, I no longer know what that means anymore.

But during the first encounter years before, he proved himself worthy with his attitude. I’ve said it dozens of times in this venue over the 800+ posts here: attitude with me will be a much bigger factor than looks or cock size.

”Josh” is about 5’9”, 190-ish and only about 6”. But it was his mouth (via talk), that made him so attractive. He was confident about who he was, and made it clear who I was at least in terms of our hierarchy. I was the cocksucker. He was the feeder.

He reached out to me, knowing he was leaving and figured he could get one more blowjob from some managerial faggot. The problem was timing and location. It was too early in the day to use my office. Too many folks around and I’d have no need to be meeting with a pharmacist. But he had an idea – a locker room of which I did not have access.

It was later in the day, but not near a shift change. I don’t know who actually has access to this place, but I assume doctors and nurses who need to shower before or after procedures or ORs. I know my ID did not work on the door. Josh’s did. He keyed in and in we went. The place was empty. There were stalls, benches and such, but he made a beeline to the showers.

There were two stalls. Tiled top to bottom and a full length curtain for each. I followed him in and he drew the curtain shut. At this juncture, there were no words. Hands on my shoulders. In my suit, I went on my knees not knowing or caring if the shower floor was wet. If so, I’d figure out what to do after the fact. As it turns out, it was dry as a bone.

I pulled at his belt, zipper and clasp. The pants fell down just enough. I did chew at his briefs briefly, but we are quite public and one just didn’t know what might happen. So he pulled them down exposing his 6” sword. I went to town.

With minimal slurping – not that anyone could hear – I bobbed up and down on his cock. I kept the cock lubed, but not overly so. It was easy gliding in and out. He reached out – hand to my head. Touching it. Then guiding it. Then gripping it. He has always been an engaged feeder.

As we would have heard any door open or close, he was safe to talk a little. “You like that dick, cocksucker? You gonna miss that cock?” I moaned my answers, as my lips were still wrapped around his shaft. He already knew my answers anyways. “My balls are full today. You’re gonna drain ‘em for me, aren’t you?”. How I fucking love hearing shit like that.

At this point he just takes over. He loves grabbing me by the tie and pulling me towards him. Tight. So he does. Over and over. He’s fucking my face. He uses one hand on the tie and one near the back of my head. He has the opportunity to do both or either. I’m good with both or either. At times he braced himself against the tiled wall, leaning into me, putting his cock down my throat.

It’s not a long blowjob. It can’t be for multiple reasons, though I’d love a chance to just worship that cock somewhere. The reality is: that’s not his scene. Not with me. It’s blow ‘n go and I know it. I am fine with it. He’s not looking for more than that. I know my place.

He pounded my face and throat. I took it like a man. A cocksucker, but still a man. And was appropriate, he had a silent, but large, orgasm into my mouth. I took it. I showed him his semen before swallowing it. He grinned, probably more at his copious volume than at my deed. I have a feeling he’s very proud of what he does and just expects me to do what I do.

He pulled his pants up, zipped them and as he pulled the shower curtain back, while I still knelt there, said, “Later faggot. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.

He hasn’t.

Monday, August 19, 2019

ParTy 3 Way

I had fucked the guy before. Once.

He’d been after me for years. But truth be told, I wasn’t that interested and he was like 16 miles away. Two would be boner-killers. I know 16 miles doesn’t seem that far until you know it’s mostly 35mph roads.

Now he was closer. 8 miles, if I was at home. But here I was at a Starbucks, less than a half a mile away. He was decent. He had piercing eyes and an all too welcoming hole. He could make have resistance – and tightly – when he wanted, but going in, it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.

I came. I left.

Fast forward three weeks (which included 2.5 weeks of begging for it again). Same Starbucks. Same app. But now he had a friend over and he could get rid of him. I asked if his friend wanted to watch. He claimed said friend didn’t know what a slut he was. “Doubtful”, was my internal monologue. I did have the wherewithal to ask if his friend was good looking. If you read me, you know me well enough to know that looks are normally my things - - if I’m getting fucked. But if I’m being watched, I’d rather not have some slob eyeing me. I need some motivation. He claimed he was.

Seven minutes later, I’m at his door. He’s getting ready and tells me to go upstairs. His friend is indeed good looking but not exactly my type. Mid height, dark hair, small dick that I could tell right away through his mesh jock. No offense to mesh jock wearers, but why? I mean, unless you’re a stripper. ……and even then……..meh.

I wasted no time. I started stripping even before the host arrived. I finished before he arrived. Immediately we got down to it. He got on his knees and started sucking my cock. The friend stayed on the bed, watching intently. He watched the cock go in and out of the mouth. He wasn’t looking up at me, to look in my eyes, at my reaction. At least not yet. He was fixated on my penis going into his buddy’s mouth. He was interested in seeing my hand on the back of his head, holding his buddy down. There was no gagging. Whore.

I asked the buddy if he liked what he saw. I mean, he’d be lying if he said ‘no’, right? He was interested but not really hard. That should have been a clue to me. But he was into it. And I like being watched. I think I know how to engage and put on a show. My take is: if I’m going to be watched, I’ll give them something at which to look. (just because it’s a sex post / blog doesn’t mean proper grammar shouldn’t apply.)

The guy sucking me took a break and had to run down the hall (should have been a second clue) for a minute. I asked the second guy if he wanted to blow me. He was trying to be deferential to the host, I told him not to worry about it. He got on his knees and put my cock into his mouth.

He was good. Not great. At some point earlier, he mentioned how he had four kids, but now only into guys. He was better than a novice cocksucker, but not as good as the host. Still he was more enthusiastic than the host. He struggled with my last inch, but I tried to help him with a grip on the head. The host wandered back in and got on the bed….face up. As I was standing near the side of the bed, he scooted up and started eating my ass. It’d been a long day and I can attest I was not squeaky clean. Maybe not even by a long shot. It did not deter him. He munched hole like a champ.

The buddy cocksucker kept up his valiant effort. My dirty talk went to him now. “Looks like you’re really working on that cock, like you’re really working for the load”. He nodded. “Go for it – keep working it, maybe you’ll get the reward”. He pulled off talking low saying it should go to the host and went back to work. “It goes to whomever I say and whomever I find worthy”. The host pulled off my ass and asked what we were saying, I told him to go back to eating my shitter. He did.

Buddy wanted me to fuck his friend but for me to pull out and feed him some cum. It’s a nice thought, but that’s not necessarily how I perform. But deep down, I love his buddy would have fucked over the host by taking my load. I know he wanted to. I know he wanted to do the “right thing”, but if it came down to it, he would have taken every drop regardless of sexual social convention.

As it turns out, fucking was on the agenda. I wanted the host on his knees at edge of the bed. Like last time, I basically fell in. His buddy talked about the load he took earlier that morning and the night before. Whore!

I fucked. I did ok but nothing great, though by both of their assertions I was doing well. I think the bottom was a good actor with his moans and such. The buddy got behind me and played with my nipples, which normally does so much for me. With this guy? Nothing. He was remarkably bad at it – and I couldn’t figure out how. Still, I persevered.

If I’m being totally honest – and I mean, why not? – I had to go internal to find a way to make it to the finish line. I actually have a go-to past scenario which I think of when in need to cum if I’m struggling. The story is actually documented here – years back – but I don’t reveal it, as then I’ll have to find another one should I not be able to fully perform in the future.

I think it had been like five days since my last orgasm, so while it would be big, when it did arrive, even I was surprised at the volume, the force, the toe curling nature of it all. And I was vocal. No words, per se, but vocal nonetheless. The buddy fucking loved this, saying this is how a real man cums.

The ass squeezed my cock but hard. He has muscle tone but doesn’t use it much. At least with me. Yes, he squeezed out every drop. But I shot deep deep up him, so there is that.

There was no ceremony about my leaving. I started to find my discarded clothes, glasses and phone. This is when I realized there were clues I missed.

The guys were ok, but not good enough to put up with that kind of drug use. I’m not one to judge on this, as I had my drug time, but once you start with needing spoons not for coke and syringe (that I almost stepped on), I really have no need for you. My first clue should have been two guys “hanging out” in the middle of the day.

I told the host after he hit me up to tell me was looking forward to the next time, via Scruff, that was the last time. He immediately knew why, without me saying a word. “It’s not what you think………….I just use that to measure out GHB and crystal”.

Ummmm….no, it’s exactly what I thought. What the fuck did you think I thought it was for – your insulin? It is the problem with most users, besides not being in the moment (limp dick), they’re usually stupid too.

There are plenty of men with which to play, I will actively avoid the known addicts.

Thursday, July 18, 2019


I was in a hotel out of town (you know a lot of my stories are out of order, right?). I had a time limit due to scheduled activities, but got hit on by a guy who claimed to be beefy and muscular – and the image he used verified that. Slightly older, but nothing undoable. The pic of his cock was nice and fat. I do love girth. His body type seemed heavy but not fat.

Pictures lie.

While the body type was not my type, depending on the personality (and the dick!) I can work with that. This guy’s personality, when he showed, was just overpowering, but not in a good way. He kind of barged in, started making demands and not necessarily sexual ones. He was definitely heavier than he portrayed – much heavier.

The bad thing was, I knew it would not be easy to get him to leave. He was the kind of guy who missed all the social queues, or ignored them. On the right kind of guy, that could be hot (the ignoring them). This was not that kind of guy.

I was trying to beg off, due to my social engagement, but his pants were coming off anyways. There stood his fat, but shorter cock. At least he was erect. He wanted me to go down on him, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good situation. It’s one of those things where I’d have to fight his belly to get his cock. Again, I tried to beg off, saying I misjudged the timing. He was having none of it.

Get on the bed….face down. This is where I know I’m slutty. Where I am just a fucking disgusting pig. I figured it would be easier to live through the fuck and get him to go.

I will give him this. He hit the bullseye the first time out. And he POUNDED. These were cheap mattresses on a cheaper stand. He was moving that bed every which way. The hotel was so sleazy and disgusting that none of this would be out of place. Standard operating procedure here. I lay there, basically taking it like a victim, just hoping it would end sooner than later. My lack of interaction and enthusiasm didn’t deter him in the slightest….if he noticed at all.

He lasted longer than I thought he might. But eventually groaned and shot. Then laid there. I’m trying to say I needed to get ready to go……and he just kind of lingered, on me. Then when he did pull off, he wanted to shower. Lord. I tried to tell him the hot water did not work – which wasn’t a lie. He even brought his own towel. Clearly he didn’t care about the water warning. He took one anyway while I bided my time.

He wanted to chat as he dried and changed. I kept looking at my non-existent watch, pretending to get things ready for my departure. This did not spur him on to make haste. Eventually he finally got out of there…..with his own towel in hand. There he went, clean.

Something no soap and water would do for me the rest of the day.

Sunday, July 14, 2019


I knew one guy from eons back. We’ll call him “Dick”. We fucked around once with his then partner and we just became friends after that. No more sex. I find I normally don’t have sex with friends. And if I become friends with a sex partner, then the sex usually ceases. Maybe that’s weird, but it is the way I am. Dick ended up moving and living out west.

The other guy, “Ben”, I knew from Scruff. I knew he visited here and had some ties to this town, but didn’t live here. He’d blown me in my office on weekend days twice. Nice mouth. Sub boy – the kind that makes me want to be a dom. He has zero idea I suck cock or bend over for strangers. He thinks I’m the kind of guy who uses guys like that. And in his case, he wasn’t wrong. I only knew him from his Scruff handle: B.

In discussions with Ben, he tells me he “dances” on the side for cash. Prodding further, it goes beyond dancing. Always for cash. Allegedly there is no anal, or at least nothing that is not wrapped. Strangers who hire him out – sometimes for weekend gigs. He claims his husband (or partner?) doesn’t know of these activities. Possible, but harder to explain with overnights and weekends. Granted, I don’t think it’s a full time gig, just something he does for fun, in which he gets paid. I totally get that being a rent-boy could be fucking hot.

When he’d hit me up for chat, I’d ask him about his exploits – just because I was curious.

Somewhere over social media Ben somehow came across my path – him reaching out to me. I’m not stupid enough to accept his ‘friend’ request, but I engaged him via messaging. I asked him specifically if he was still renting himself out. He said yes. Though he was quick to follow-up with, “but I’d do you for no charge”. No shit!, was my reply.

He also said he’d like me to pimp him out sometime.

Not knowing the answer, I asked where he resided. It was Arizona. Tucson specifically. My brain immediately went to work. My friend “Dick” lived in Tucson. My friend Dick now is exerting his dom top behavior. I immediately messaged him and asked if I sent something up with Ben would he be into it? He responded in the affirmative.

I reached out to Ben and told him I was pimping him out. Now. And he was doing it for free. He didn’t hesitate to agree. I knew he wouldn’t. We arranged a way for the two of them to communicate that didn’t involve me as the middle man, yet I was to be told by both exactly what was going on. Not so much as to if it would happen, but I was looking at the different perspectives on this doing.

I know being a pimp isn’t this easy. But fuck, I cannot get my own hook-ups to go this easily, or quickly.

The plan was to meet at a certain time at Dick’s place. As it turns out, it would be the garage. The plan was for a certain time, but Ben was delayed enough that Dick nodded off while waiting on him. That annoyed me, though Ben denies it. I know Dick, I trust Dick, so his take to me was true.

From both accounts, the hook-up was marginal at best. That was sad to say for me personally. I wanted a few outcomes from this, so maybe I should have been more specific – though technically I cannot dictate the entire session. It wasn’t a porn and I wasn’t the director.

For Dick, I wanted an amazing experience. One for which he could take charge and just use this guy. I wanted Ben to give him great head and show him an expert time. For Ben, I wanted him just to feel cheap and used – both at my hand, albeit a thousand miles away, and from Dick, my surrogate john.

For me, I’m not quite done with this concept. I’ve always wanted to be pimped out myself, and there has been talk of it, but no action. I wanted to be different and have action, which I provided. But there is a first time for everything and it’s all a learning experience.

Next time I’ll have a different check-list of what to do and what to avoid.

Thursday, July 11, 2019

Semi-Spontaneous 3 Way

I wasn’t planning a 3-way. I wasn’t planning anything at all. Except for the fact that two guys blew me off or ghosted me. Fuckers.

One guy contacted me. A little larger than I prefer. I wasn’t saying ‘no’ to him, and then he mentioned a buddy who wanted to get off too. Hmmmm……a 3 way. Without asking stats, I agreed. I said I needed 10 minutes to get home. He said they’d see me in 15. I replied, ‘no. 10!’. They were there in 10.

Guy 1 was as he stated. 6’1”, but roughly 240. Bald, semi-handsome. Guy 2 was 6’ or so, built. No other way to say it but classically handsome. Both maybe 40. I didn’t, and never did, get the relationship. A ‘buddy’ was used in convo, but there was another aspect to it. More than FWB I think, but I can’t say. Relationships are so fluid these days, I should just give up second guessing anything.

The dynamics were all over the place. Depending on the timing, each of us being more submissive or more dominant than the minute before. Each one directing something going on. I don’t think there was much hiding it, but I was way into #2 than #1. But oddly, with both of them, I believe I was #2. They were into each other, I had the place and the ability to watch or be watched. I was a pawn. I wasn’t thrilled with it, but it wouldn’t be the first of last time.

It is the problem with 3-ways. One person is more into one of the other people and it’s disconcerting and even troubling if you’re doing it with a couple. I learned this eons ago when doing it with a couple – one of whom picked me up without telling his partner. It was awkward, and ironically, the partner became one of my best friends………….and is probably reading this right now! And super ironically, he wasn’t the one I was into in that 3 way.

So, everyone blew each other, at least one. Everyone kissed each other, at least once. The handsome one slapped my ass once. I asked him if that’s the best he could do? He showed me a number of times, it wasn’t.  I fucking do love a firm palm on my cheeks.

At one point I said to the hot guy, “sit on my face”. He didn’t hesitate. I was on my back. Him telling me in great detail HOW to eat his ass. He fucking loved my responsiveness. I fucking loved his ass and eating it. Honestly, it’s been a good long time since I ate a butt like that. He was happy to let me keep going. He even stood and leaned over a desk so I could dive deep.

I was on my knees while guy #1 was close by jacking as I blew #2. He told 1 to cum in his mouth. No way, I thought. I pulled my mouth off long enough to say, ‘cum on his cock while I suck him’. This got both of them hot and bothered. I will say this, #1 had great cum control. It all went on the cock. All of it. Then it went all into my mouth, as the cock became cum-slimy with each up and down motion of my cocksucking mouth.

He was way into telling me to eat his buddy’s cum. I was way into eating it. Showing off. Making #2 harder while I sucked.

But sucking him off was not to be. He said he can’t cum that way. But fucking wasn’t even brought up. “Get on your back, again”. I did. He knelt over me jacking his cock right in my face. I talked dirty. His ‘friend’ talked dirty. Enough so that it got him to bust his nut onto my face, into my mouth, into my eye (ugh!). I ate what I could. I always do.

There was no real discussion about me getting off. I would have deferred anyways. They thanked me and left. Now I’m wondering how to get #2 back here on his own.

Sunday, July 07, 2019

Mixed Race Hottie

I wouldn’t think I was his type. I’m older than he, by a bit. He had profiles up on Scruff and Grindr – probably other places too. He was handsome, but not classically so. His profile was written in a bit of a stand-offish way, but perhaps that was to ward off the flakes, or the guys who are only after black cock.

One profile he says he’s black. The other says he’s mixed race. I’d tend to go with the mixed race in terms of skin coloring, but in terms of, well, penis stereotypes – the man is black.

Via Scruff, I ‘woof’d’ at him. He already had ignored a salutation on Grindr. I wasn’t expecting a thing. But he engaged on Scruff. I was careful to not mention his race. Yeah, it was a turn on to me, but it’s never going to be the defining thing either. His profile was clear, his race is not your fetish. I knew what he was getting at. His profile says he identifies as ‘high femme’ but he’s anything but.

Things oddly progressed quickly. We chatted and talked of getting together. I thought he meant later in the day, he thought I meant sometime later. I didn’t really have to convince him of later in the day. He said he could stop between work and gym.

We sent pics back and forth. He had what looked like a nice cock. I provided my address.

6’2”, 210, 29 years old. In person he seemed taller. When he arrived I swear he had to bend down to kiss me. I wasn’t expecting a kiss and I told him so. He pulled back immediately, but mine wasn’t a #metoo moment. The man had great full lips (stereotype #1). He fucking knew how to kiss with passion. I honestly could have done that for our entire time together, but we both truly had other desires.

“Why don’t you show me what that mouth can do”, he said as he sat in my home office chair.

I was on my knees shortly thereafter to demonstrate. He was confident enough not to care when I mouthed this still pants-covered crotch. My mouth was wet, his pants were tan. There was no way for this not to show up on some level. I nuzzled. I gnawed. He looked on.

I reached down and slipped off one of his shoes. I don’t have a shoe fetish (thoughhhhh……boots might be another thing), but I’d need to get one off so I could at least remove a leg of his pants. I went through the motions of undoing his belt and unhooking his pants and drawing down his zipper, all while I rubbed and gnawed on his groin.

The pants dropped exposing his dark colored cotton boxer briefs. And yes, I gnawed at those too. It was clearly a nice bulge he had going. It wasn’t long before I started pulling those down, exposing pubes, then base of shaft, then shaft…………..then all of it.

I’d like to say it ‘boing’d’ out, but it fell out with a thud. The laws of gravity were firmly in place. I’m not sure how his pants and boxers hid what it hid. I’m not sure why no pic he sent captured how fucking gorgeous and big (stereotype #2) that cock was.  ....including this one.

A man who kisses like that and is hung like few others? He was definitely pushing past the 10” mark. Again, it's the one time a picture is inaccurate on the small side.

I had immediate regrets. Not about either of us being there. No, this would be about me not prepping my asshole. We never discussed up-the-butt sex, but when you’re faced with something like he was sporting, the now it was hard not to think about it. What if this was my only chance.

Even if I was semi-confident with most guys, this guy would strike oil if I wasn’t 100% sure. Mouth action it would be. It would have to be. Only.

Any thoughts of me being a good cocksucker went right down the drain with this guy. He wasn’t just 10” (or more), he. was. thick. While I could get my mouth around it, taking more than half was a challenge. You could see my progress, as my spit made his dark skin darker………and shinier. But you could see where than ended an how much more I had to go.

I FORCED myself down on it. “Fuuuuuuuuck Yeahhhh” was the response. I was doing something right. Not as good as I wanted, but good enough to evoke that from him. I saw it as a win.

I’m not trying to minimize the blowjob, but I did the standard things: licked the underside of the shaft, licked the nuts, sucked the nuts, worked the head. My signature move of the dancing tongue while deep throating was not gonna happen. There wasn’t enough room in my mouth for it to be physically possible….at least not to the point where would make him jump and squirm like so many before him. I did what I could and bobbed, licked, sucked and gnawed (but just a little). These all got good responses.

I told him I wanted to eat his hole. He was more than willing for that to happen. He mentioned he came right from work – which was nice, if unnecessary to say. As it turns out he wasn’t dirty, just damp and sweaty. Musky. Manly.

I licked the crack as he squatted over my face as I lay on the floor. I ran my tongue in circles around his pink hole. I stuck my tongue in a little. He moaned. He pushed back. I pushed in. Deeper. He moaned more. So did I. I hope he felt those vibrations. Turns out he could squat for a long time. Turns out, I could eat ass for just as long.

As I was on my back, he ended up kneeling next to me, leaning in to feed me his cock. This is great and yet scary. Head pinned against the floor, nowhere to go. His baby arm of a cock “forcing” itself into my mouth. Totally at his mercy. Totally wanting to be. As he pumped, he’d make me gag. As I’d gag, my mouth would spasm around his shaft. That would almost always garner another “Fuuuuuuuuck Yeahhhh”. And that would always make my dick hard and my head happy.

Oh, and he was into spit. I know a number of guys I’ve brought this up to – in conversation or play – are not down with this. I love that they will take cum (or give it), but think spit is gross. I’d say “where’s the line?” but I still struggle with drinking piss…..and still trying to get over that. He spit in my mouth more than on my face, but either was great. I would have liked it done with a little more force and conviction, but I was new territory. I’m sure he didn’t know how I’d react. (spoiler alert: I reacted just fine!)

It was with me sucking and him feeding from the supine side of me where he finally went over the edge.

While he said he had cum earlier in the day, you would never fucking know it. The amount of semen was phenomenal. And while I wish I could say I captured it all in my mouth, I did not. It hit my face, my neck, the carpet, my shirt….and yes, my tongue and mouth. Oh, he was nice enough to scoop up some of the bigger blobs and feed them to me. I even took in some of the smaller ones.

He loved it. But then he wanted to see me shoot. I was hard, but wasn’t planning to get off. It’s almost never my intention. But I wanted to please him. That is kind of my station, no? So I jacked, I came. I added to the mess he helped create.

We both liked it very much. And while we text / sext, so far there has been no repeat. I remain optimistic.

Thursday, July 04, 2019


He doesn’t like “Sir”, but told me to call him “Boss”.

This I could work with.

“Bruno” was a guy I had been interested in for years. YEARS!!!!

He’d click on my Scruff profile often and then disappear. I could tell by the frequency that he either dropped off-line for weeks / months, or he only was in town infrequently. And then there were the few times I ran into him at my gym. He’d look at me – and I was never sure he put 2+2 together.

Bruno was and wasn’t my type. Bearded – yes (and very much so). Shaved head – yes. Butch – yes. Height – no, as he stood maybe 5’5”. I know I’m buying into a stereotype, but I find it hard for a guy pushing a foot shorter than myself to be ‘the dom’. I knew I could work through this issue. I’m a professional. One that doesn’t get paid for this line of work, but a pro nonetheless.

So over this holiday season, he was around. I reached out and ‘woof’d’ at him. We started to converse, and while he said he was introverted, it did not take much for him to come out his shell. Soon the conversation turned to him wanting to see me suck his cock……….then get bent over. A little more and he was mentioning his leather jacket and Harley boots. Score!

After a bunch of start and stops, I was over at his place. He wanted to kiss. And kiss. And kiss. Sigh.

I’m all about kissing some guys, but this isn’t exactly what I was expecting from this guy. Or really wanted. It was a lot of tongue action. But I was there for him, so I did what was needed and what he wanted. On the plus side – he was a good kisser.

It took a while but soon his hands were on my shoulders pushing to my knees. I know the drill and went while looking up at him. He had on black jeans, and I undid the belt and opened them, which then dropped around his thighs. I mouthed the mound that had been there since I walked in the door. While kissing, I felt it….and felt it again….and again and again. Now it was the width of cotton away from being in my fucking mouth. I pulled them down exposing his 6”. He trembled when I ran my tongue over the head. He jolted as I made my tongue dance across the underside. He moaned when I took it all in my mouth in one motion.

Then he fucked my face. Hands on head. Hips moving expertly. It didn’t take him long to come out of his shell. Introverted, my ass. I went further down and worshipped his black Harley boots. He liked when I licked the black leather. He fucking loved it when I used my tongue on the soles and when I tried to take the tip of the boot in my mouth. He of little height, still looking down at me literally and figuratively. That part, I loved!

Whenever he would ask me something, the answer would include the word, “Boss”. He liked that, I loved it.

But while all of this was all well and good, both of our pre-discussions determined that this was about my ass. It’s what we both wanted – him to fuck it, me to be fucked.

We went upstairs to his bedroom. I loved the bed, as it was tall and high off the ground even for me, so way big for him. But we got down to it. Big time. 6” is a fine cock size, assuming one knows how to use it – but that true of many sized members.

Boss knew how to use it.

The guy was well versed in how to fuck. We would end up doing it on my side, on my back, on my front, sitting on him facing him and away. He had stamina. It got to the point that my hole was just so open for him. And slick, but not full of lube. More like self-lube. He had me excited enough that I was producing my own wetness.

He loved that I was open. He loved the way my hole felt and kept commenting on it. How silky it was. How great it felt to him and his cock. I started feeling self conscious, as I’m not great at accepting compliments. Ironically, this is not the first time I’d heard that during that same week. So my thought was: one guy saying that is him just being nice. But two saying it, well, maybe it’s true. He said it with such passion and conviction, if nothing else, it was true to him.

When I said he had stamina, I meant it. We pushed the two hour mark just at fucking. Edging. Fucking. Edging……….and so on. He wasn’t going to give up his cum that easily, but I figured that out after way, the 40 minutes.

By now my hole was way open and very accommodating. He loved how it blossomed for him. How it made moist sounds and he fucked. I loved that he loved it.

But truth be told, I did have things to do. He laid back to rest a bit and I took matters into my own hand……and butt. I straddled him, held his shaft in place and slid down on to him. He didn’t resist. He didn’t try to stop me. I rode his cock. Nice steady strokes with no relenting. His face said it all. The glaze in his eyes, the upward turn of his lips. He was happy.

While he didn’t say he was going to cum, there are some things a boy knows. The stiffening of the shaft up the pooper is one of them. His grabbing my hips and pushing me down, holding me there, was another. Actually, that was way more telling. So were the moans and the “oh SHIT”, as he fired his guns. Well, yeah, when he came I knew it, just not sure of the before.

I climbed off….eventually. First I had to milk the shaft, with each squeeze he shuddered head to toe. All 5’5” of him. We will get together again. Timing is a bitch, but when he’s in town, arrangements will be made.

Sunday, June 30, 2019

Piss & Cum

It seems when I write here, I’ve been splitting my writings between my bottom and top experiences. In theory, there seem to be more topping than I’ve ever done, but that’s not really the case. It’s just that A. I’m very behind (still) on getting my exploits to the CRT. B. Sometimes, the topping experiences are just easier to write, since for me, they’re fewer and farther between. C. It’s just ok to mix things up a bit – in life and in blog form.

He hit me up via one of the apps. Fair enough, but nothing outstanding. As always, I was hoping to go to my knees, or at least sit on a crapper, while a guy standing in front of me fed me. But as always, or almost always, the guy wants my cock. SOOOOOOO many bottoms. SOOOOOO many cocksucker. I hate the competition.

Still, I was kind of in a mood. I didn’t agree readily, but didn’t turn him down either. He was at a nearby facility for appointments and wanted to hook up. I told him I was tied up with meetings and couldn’t for X amount of time. He said, he’d message me after his appointments. He did. I wasn’t free for a few hours still and still he said he’d wait. I told him ‘no promises’ and this did not deter him. Clearly he had nothing better to do. Even I know I’m not worth hanging around for hours and hours.

But he did. Oh, and now he said he wanted my piss and to blow me.

Now, I don’t know this guy from Adam. While he claims to be an excellent piss drinker, I am in a suit and the last thing I need is for him to gag on a mouthful of urine. My urine. My urine that ends up all over my suit. And I thought a few dribbles when I didn’t shake enough were embarrassing.

I told him he could suck me, but we wouldn’t do piss. Ironically enough, not in a bathroom stall.

In person, he wasn’t really a looker. The bathroom in mind was now out due to some construction issues. A second bathroom was potentially busier, but was in a non-high traffic area. And there was a two door entrance system, giving enough time to adjust things as needed.

Into the stall we went. He sitting on the toilet. He took my dick into his mouth and started to suck. I stopped him and whispered not to move. Somewhere between leaving for this restroom and getting there, now I had to take a wicked piss. So I did.

True to his word, the man knew how to handle a full bladder. I drink a LOT of water all day long, so I know it was a clean, clear stream. There was just so goddamn much of it. He sucked it like a pro. He drank every single fucking drop. My biggest mistake was not filming it. Live and learn.

After the piss was gone, he didn’t take a break. He started moving up and down, sucking my cock. This I did remember to film.

I left him there, telling him to wait 3-5 minutes before leaving. I darted to the stairwell and was gone in an instant. Bladder and balls both feeling relieved.

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Columbus 7

The next morning was a bust for the most part. No one really on line who was interested in me, or vice versa. …..and as you know, I’m not that picky. Part was the time limit while I still had my hotel, though I was willing to travel. One guy wanted to film me sucking his cock. I think he was surprised when I agreed, but then the timing didn’t work out.

I hit Starbucks for morning caffeine when I got hit up by a bi-married guy. He was looking to be blown only. I can deal with that. I love giving head and I probably should give my ass a rest for a bit anyway, though I wouldn’t have turned down a fuck.

He said he was 5’10” and 200lbs. Doable. He said 7”. Doable. As it turns out, he’d lie about weight and length. So many do. As we got closer to getting together, me hustling back to the hotel, he became more erratic and even paranoid. “There had better not be anyone else in the room other than you!”. Kind of makes you wonder what situations he’s walked into in the past.

I left the door open, which was now a potential issue with housekeeping right next door. For all his weirdness, he breezed right past them, pushed open the door and secured it. In the light of day, he clearly wasn’t the physical being his profile described. But he was confident, and I kind of like that.

He disrobed and I got on my knees. His cock was maybe 5.5”. Thick, yes. 7”, no. This always baffles me, but here we were, him lying got him in the door, me not saying anything, he still getting what he wants. What’s the downside for him?

He is forceful. No finesse. This isn’t really satisfying for me, and I’m wondering if it is for him. I think it is, in an odd way. It might be the only way he knows, or the only way he can get through this with another dude.

The guy has me get on the bed, on my back with my head hanging over. I’m down with that. He feed me his cock for all of about 90 seconds. Then it’s, “lick my balls”. I lean my head back. He takes a half-step forward. Balls above my mouth. I lean up and let my tongue glad across his nuts. He strokes his dick. I lick more. I suck.

”Do you eat ass?” I lie and mumble, with a mouth full of sac, “no”. Clearly you all know this is a lie. He does not. But his ass, while smelling freshly washed , seems clean, his extra weight is making his ass less appealing. I continue to eat balls. He takes another step forward, forcing his balls to move with him and placing his ass over my mouth.

He told me to “fucking eat it”. With tongue extended, it hit his crack, then hole. Then into the hole. All the while I kept up with a weak protest of ‘no’. I don’t know if I sold it or if he didn’t care. Upon retelling this tale to Mr. Steed, shortly after the actual act, he goes, “that made me hard”.

Folks – I do what I can to keep you all erect and dripping. This is what I live for.

Clearly, it turned on the guy over me. “Where do you want the load? WHERE??” I immediately reply “my mouth” as I can tell my tongue in his shitter took him to the edge. I didn’t want to lose it, as he said it was a massive load.

He takes a step back, my tongue now extended. He doesn’t even try to aim for my mouth. He starts to shoot. Fire. Explode. The load is massive. Sure, some hits my tongue. Some hits my chin, my eyes, my cheek, my chest, the bedspread and I’m sure other places.

My best efforts dashed, I’m lying there with my head hanging off the bed, being unsuccessful at keeping semen out of my eye(s). First, he ended up shooting there, secondly, what didn’t was not being taken by gravity to my sockets. I’m going to have red and sore eyes in about 20 minutes.

While I even remotely try to gain my composure, he is out the door in a flash and without a word. He blocks his Scruff profile from me before he hits his car.

....and yes, I scooped up the load and ate it.  I'm not a monster.

Thursday, June 20, 2019

Columbus 5 & 6

So, with 4 loads in my ass, I still had an itch I needed scratched. I think many of you would understand that just because you get laid doesn’t mean it sates your desire, want or need. Sometimes, like this evening, it just fueled it.

At this point it was well past midnight, but I kept toggling between BBRT, Scruff, Grindr, Recon, A4A like a maniac. I was afraid I’d miss an opportunity. Before you think me being too manic, please refer to the full title of this blog. It all stands to reason.

A really cute, bearded man was less than a mile away. In his profile he said he didn’t mind unsolicited nudes. So I sent one. Well, one of another guy’s cock which was in my mouth. Then one of my ass. I got a ‘thumbs up’ emoji back. We had a little back and forth when he asked how late I’d be up. My reply was: “as late as you need me to be”. His response? “Good Answer”. '

Trust me. I know my place. But I know the right answers too.

I assumed he would be much later, but within he was on the way. As I did the usual prep, I missed his message asking me to be ass up, face down. Of course, that’s what I already was, which is why I missed his message. Dark room, door cracked. Lube right there for him, along with a towel….just in case he wanted one.

I heard the door shut, obviously. But he was silent about disrobing. I’m guessing gym shorts dropping and that’s about it. Soon enough, I felt him. His chest on my back, his dick between my legs. His mouth at my ear. “Right where I wanted you”, he whispered.

There was a squirt of lube, but truth be told, I’m not sure he’d need it. My insides were slick, granted a lot of that was deeper than the entrance. I’m willing to take it anyway they want to give it. But I’m telling you nothing new, unless you’re just hitting this blog up for the first time.

He was right at my backdoor and pushed his head in. There was a sigh / gasp from both of us. And he kept sinking in steadily, not fast but not slow. When he bottomed out, his mouth was right at my ear, “so…….how many loads do you have up there?”. I eked out saying “four”. This is a tricky thing to do, believe it or not. Guys are weird. Slutty but you don’t always know where the line is. Knowing he is the fifth could be a huge turn on, or a complete turn off. Luckily, he was totally into it.

The guy knew how to fuck and used my hole good. I fucked back too – pushing myself back onto him on his in-stroke and using my ass muscles like a champ. I begged him to fuck me harder. It’s not that I wanted him to shoot sooner, I just wanted this handsome man’s power. I wanted him to feel he was free to let go. He was in a hotel room, with a stranger. All bets were off………………well, you know, kind of. He had great verbal skills – telling me how the hole felt, how his cock felt and how he wanted to add the fifth load into my ass. My cock was hard and pressing into the mattress.

The problem with late night and probably edging himself during the evening hours and now fucking a guy who was fully loaded with semen, and giving me his dick harder and harder, well…… does end up being a shorter fuck than I would have wanted. He stiffened up, head to toe, almost going into a rigid plank position as he fired his gun up my ass, swearing the entire time. I fucking loved it.

He was the one guy who didn’t pull out too soon. He stayed deep in me while I used my muscles telling him I was going to take every drop out of his cock. He didn’t protest, not that I thought he would. When he did slip out, he didn’t rush to get his clothes on. He didn’t even get off the bed immediately. I took that opportunity to slip off the bed and to my knees. Kneeling on the bed facing me, he didn’t stop me from wrapping my lips around his slimy cock while I looked up at him (fucking handsome!). Slimy from lube, slimy from sweat, slimy from cum – his and four others. He did wince a little, as I think he was a little sensitive, but he never deterred me from my task at hand…..or mouth as it was.

He thanked me and left. Only after did I see his profile on another app. This time he listed his age: 24. Fuck. While I wouldn’t have turned him down at any age, his attitude, verbal skills and fuck skills were well above what one usually sees for his age.

While we were fucking, I got a BBRT message that I missed. 6’ black guy, nicely built with no cock pic, but his profile said ‘large’. Don’t they all? We went back and forth for a bit. While he said he’d come to me, I noticed his distance doubling then tripling. I’d kind of given up on him when he messaged, ‘almost there’. Sure enough, he was now less than a half mile from me. I gave him the room number, told him the door was open and to just push in.

He did just that. As with most of the others, I was face down, ass up. And he wasted no time.

The guy started snaking his cock into me. And it kept going and going and going.

While I know in theory it wasn’t a long time, but it felt like it. My ass was getting full. It already was, but now we were having a displacement issue. All that cum in me, was getting squeezed around, then down his cock. The ass nerves aren’t tell me if this cum or not, just that, well, something feels it is being pushed out.

Clearly this is my 6 th of the evening. I underestimated how tender my ass was at this point and how swollen the tissue was inside. While my hole was more open, ironically, insides it was a little closed up due to that swelling. As he still had not yet bottomed out, I asked him how big he was, “9…..maybe 9 and a half”. Without having seen it or even felt it, I don’t think he was even exaggerating a little.

When he finally hit bottom, I asked him to stay put for a minute so I could adjust, “what’s wrong, can’t take it?”.

This is a loaded question – one with no right answer. If you say ‘no’, well chances are the session is over. If you say ‘yes’, there can be little to no room for compromise. You need to read the room on this last part. For him, it could easily turn into a ‘no’ if it is not at the speed, depth, intensity he demands.

I said I could take it.

While I wouldn’t live to regret that answer, there were a number of times during the fuck that I gritted my teeth to stop myself from asking him to slow down, readjust or stop. Doing any of that can be like throwing cold water on the guy.

He was a fuck machine. There is no other way to say it. While I talk in this blog about the love of being just a hole, there are times when I feel like one and rarer times when a guy truly makes me one. This would be the latter.

At some point, while I didn’t say anything about his assault, my body must have told him the tale. He wants to readjust me, so soon I’m on my back – for the first time I see him. The man is a tank. He’s dark as can be in terms of skin color. He is big, but muscly. He has a wide face, a wide but flat nose. He is intense. He is a tank! And acts like it, when it comes to ploughing his cock into and out of my ass.

There is little talk at this point, though at one point in my head I’m wondering what kind of load I’ll get, so ask him when he came last. I was surprised at the answer: “an hour ago”, he grunted between thrusts.

FUCK. But not necessarily in a good way.

Now in the back of my mind I’m thinking this guy isn’t going to cum anytime soon and he’s down for the long haul. I reset my expectations and doubled down knowing I have got a while to go before this is over. And it did.

The man just drilled my ass. That hole going into the second ring thing – it’s a real thing. He was hitting places few guys had gotten to. Part was due to his size, but a lot was due to his fierceness at nailing some white guy’s ass. The bigger problem with the second ring? No matter how good you think you clean out then you’re getting pummeled like this, the chances of stirring up shit (literally and figuratively) is high.

As he fucks me, his eyes are closed. He is picturing someone else, some other scene. He just wants to empty his nuts into a hole. Any hole. It just happens to be mine. I’m under no illusions he wants to fuck me specifically.

With no warning, he roars as he shoots his load into me, adding it to all the others. Whatever scene is playing in his head finally got him to his ending.

He slips out, way faster than he put it in initially.

I had to – since I had for the last number of cocks. So I got on my knees and ate his cock before he fled. Due to that second ring thing: while his cock wasn’t clean clean at this point, it wasn’t dirty either. Mind you, he was super clean by the time I was finished.

With no thank you (phew!) and no pretense, he just dressed and walked out the door.

While my need still ran high, my body wasn’t quite where it was hours before. That said, I did one more perusal through the apps just in case. There wasn’t anything viable, so at 2:44a, I shut down my phone, locked the door and went to bed for a few hours. Full, but mostly satisfied.

Monday, June 17, 2019

Columbus 3 & 4

The first two departed and the next two would be separate, but in close succession of each other. Unlike the first two – one would be decent, one would be not as much. One would be white. One would be black. One would have a good sized cock, one would not……and based on the previous two sentences, you’d be wrong about which one was larger.

The white dude was probably older, smaller stature and decent hang. His BBRT account was dick pic. He never sent an actual pic. But it wasn’t about that. Door was to be ajar, lights off, ass greased and up. I’d never see him. He even called me from a block number to say he was near so I could get ready.

He knew who I was (well, kind of), but this would be as anonymous as one can get these days with everyone attached to everything electronic.

Face down, I heard the door open, close and the latch be secured. I heard the belt open, the pants drop, the struggle to get the shoes off. If a shirt came off, I have no idea. I didn’t pay attention to that. What we both wanted existed below the belt.

Even with the lights out, I think the bottle of lube was in sight against the white bedspread. Either way, he found it. With his dick slick, he lined up and systematically pushed his 7” cock up my ass. Now his ass…….at least temporarily. His to use. His to fuck. His to mark.

He did an admirable job with almost no verbal. A few “oh yeahhhh”s as he’d bottom out. He moved me around the bed a few times, me always face down. He did it nonverbally. I know the drill, so I don’t need aural direction.

He knew how to fuck, but he did it for him, not for his partner. I get that a lot. I’m used to it. Conditioned to it even. Rarely do guys ask “does that feel good”. Often I’ll ask if they like my ass, but I know that is my need for validation.

No real lead up to the end. But when it came (ha – pun!) rooms 201 and 100 probably knew it happened, should they have been occupied. Very deep and loud growl. He did come to the end of the bed after he pulled out and told me to clean him off. I knew not to look at anything but his thighs and cock. I didn’t look up. I did as he needed and I wanted. I turned back around, he dressed and was gone.

Not longer, the door opened again. I was still face down. But from the word ‘go’ this guy was substandard. First off, did you know they had black people in Sweden? I mean, I guess it stands to reason, but that place seems SO white. Yet he was a PhD candidate from Sweden. And black. Black as night.

He was maybe 5”. Sigh. I get I buy into the stereotype, but I try not to be a size queen. But with black dudes, I want bigger. There. I said it. And remember this two segments from now.

For a guy getting his PhD, you’d assume he was smart. But no one said he was getting it in anatomy. If he were straight, no woman would claim he ever found their clit. He couldn’t find my asshole without me reaching around and guiding him in. He never tried to find it with his hands before lining up – even after multiple failed tries. Maybe hand to ass is icky for him.

His fucking style was lame. I’m not a load collector – well eventually I am – but I just wanted it to be over, but selfishly I didn’t want to kick him out without getting his white gold. And I did, but his climax was anticlimactic.

He wasn’t happy with me either, let’s be honest. I gave him nothing for him to like me. I hate being a bossy bottom, but c’mon dude – you have to be a functional top.

At least the weekend would be saved by the next two visitors.

Monday, June 03, 2019

Columbus 1 & 2

I was in Columbus for a meeting.  I went down the evening before, knowing I'd have a good chance at getting laid. Hopefully more than once.  My last trip there resulted in 7 guys and 9 loads in 12 hours or less.  Not too shabby.

While I could afford better, I stayed at the same hotel - two stories, doors to rooms on the outside, so no desk to get past at all times of the night, no keycard for the elevator.  This isn't my first time at being a whore.

My "problem" is, I started too early in the evening. I thought I'd get some right after work dick, but that didn't pan out. Nothing would until close to 10p.  Sure I had some stops and starts, but no one would show until that time.

He messaged me on BBRT and said, "young, hung and full of cum".  He was 30, 5'10, 180lbs.  He looked younger when he showed up. His baby-ish  face was full, almost cherubic, right down to the red in his cheeks.

As I waited for him to arrive, a guy who delivered two loads to me on my last visit wanted to stop by. I told him there might be someone there, and he was ok with it. I'd leave the door open. Also, it was only a chance the first guy would show. We all know how guys flake.

But as you know by now, guy 1 did arrive. He was shy looking but not shy. I sucked him first, at his request, and he had a cock that grew nicely. Pushing 7.5", good thickness. I was afraid he was going to shoot while I did that, and neither of us wanted that.

As he just lay back while I blew him, I took control for the moment. With my spit as lube, I climbed up and straddled him. I grabbed his shaft, found my own hole (easy enough), and started sinking down onto him. His eyes closed instinctively and his mouth opened just enough for a small moan. We got into a good rhythm and he was seemingly well versed in using his hips from this position to put his prick into me.

After a bit, he wanted me on the side of the bed. That mean him behind me, my ass up, shoulders down. His cock felt good from this angle and I thought it was working for both of us, but it turns out, he wasn't a fan, so onto my back I was.

Legs up, he speared me with his man-boy cock. This worked better for both of us. His red cheeks were getting more and more red. I was asking him to fuck me harder. He complied.

We changed positions and I was on my back. He looked like he was trying to finish. My legs were up and he was going to town.

Just then I saw movement outside my cracked door. As I was at the end of the building, there'd be no reason for anyone to come that far down unless they were looking for my room. He was. He showed. He pushed open the door and shut it behind him, and stripped down.

I remembered him well from the last time. Middle eastern leanings, 40-ish, 6', 200, about 7.5 straight inches,

He stood there stroking while "the kid" continued to fuck. Guy 2 encouraged him to keep going, to fuck me, to fuck me harder, to cum. 

The kid was working hard to get over the edge, he was having to concentrate. But when he came, he came big. It was one of those when the hole sounded wet and sloppy as he continued to fuck. He deposited a 4-5 day load up there.

As soon as he pulled out, Guy 2 moved over and immediately went down on him, licking him clean - no questions asked.  As soon as he did that, he stepped over and pushed in - period. Right in. All the way.  You could hear the wetness.  I could feel it

And then he fucked.

I had forgotten his style, or lack thereof.  He is kind of jack-rabbit sex. No doubt what he's doing makes him feel good - or he wouldn't do it, right?  His partner is a tertiary thought at best. That said, I wasn't really there for great sex. I knew this night would be about taking cock......taking cum.  I don't say quantity over quality.....but I won't not say it either.

We were probably 10 minutes into the fuck before young guy started getting ready to go.  He had been watching. He had been hard. I was hoping he'd go another round after #2 was done.

After he did leave, we fucked in every position. I thought I'd milk it out of him by sitting and riding. He was more about turning me over and pounding the fuck out of me.

I got my second load of the night with a groan to let all know what we were doing.

This time, he let me clean him off.  I tasted his load and the other guys. My ass was sparkling clean, so I got none of that taste.

He left hoping for a second go round in the morning before work. Alas it never happened, but now my butt and libido were primed.

There was more to cum.  As there will be with the stories.