Nifty is a wonderful resource for getting your juices flowing . . . no matter where you end up spilling them. Give a contribution to keep it all going. http://donate.nifty.org.
And if you like the story . . . please let me know! shahairyzad@aol.com
ASS UP
My life is like one of those good news / bad news jokes, but without the punchline.
The good news is, I got into DePaul.
The bad news is, we live in Andersonville, so I'm taking the red line every day instead of living on campus.
The good news is, my dad's a super successful doctor . . . a dermatologist, so he makes a bunch of money and practically never gets sued. He's a super cool dad too . . . when I turned sixteen, he let me go on PreP and didn't give me any lectures. And didn't tell Mom!
The bad news is, super successful dermatologists aren't around as much as you want them to be. It's like he's practically always at the clinic.
The good news is, I have two parents who love me and are still married . . . to each other!
The bad news is, Mom is ALWAYS home . . . so if I want any action, it's not happening there.
The good news is, Steamworks is halfway between my house and my university.
The bad news is . . . well, actually there isn't any bad news. Having a bathhouse so close is super great. I go to Steamworks a LOT, and I practically always have a good time.
Like, today. I did a quick enema in the men's room at the music building right after my last class, then I just walked up Halsted. I figured I had an hour and a half before I had to be home for dinner, and I'd spend it, ass up, on one of the bunk beds.
It's like the perfect way to be anonymous and recognizable at the same time. I drape a towel over my head, and I lie there in my jockstrap and nothing else, legs spread, my bubble butt available for anyone who wants it. My hole starts out lubed and practically always ends up loaded . . . like, dripping loads if I'm lucky.
I never see the guys who are fucking me, but I like to get their names, and I've gotten where I can recognize some of my regulars even without their names. It's like I know their smell, or the sound of their voice, or the way their body feels on top of me, or the way their dick feels in my hole.
And the regulars can recognize me, because of the port wine stain on my left leg. It's a big reddish-purple birthmark, but it's on the back of the leg so I never think about it. When I'm ass up, everyone can see it. Sometimes a guy will say something about it. Whatever. As long as he sticks his dick in me!
If anyone wants to know my name, I tell them `Brad' instead of Elliot . . . it's like an alter ego or something. Elliot is a nice Catholic boy, taking music performance at DePaul. Brad is a slutty cumwhore, taking random guys' loads at Steamworks!
So, I'd barely settled in on the bunk bed . . . ass up, hole lubed, towel over my head . . . when I felt a finger tracing down the back of my leg. I felt it circle my birthmark, then head for my asscrack.
I pushed my ass up, `presenting', to let the guy know he's welcome to keep going. His finger pushed into my hole, and I moaned and humped the mattress so it would go even deeper.
He pulled his finger out, and I felt the mattress sag as he climbed on and straddled me. I heard him spit, and then his cock was poking my asscrack, looking for my hole. I wiggled into alignment, and his dick slid right in.
It wasn't a big dick, but it was nice and hard, and he was prodding my prostate with every thrust. His body felt heavy on me, even though he was putting most of his weight on his elbows and knees, trying not to crush me, I guess. He smelled sweaty and a little sour, and I pictured him as a big, hairy daddy bear, pumping away at my twink ass. It was a hot image and turned me on even more. Fuck me, daddy!
I moaned and whimpered a little so he would know that I was enjoying his dick, and he picked up his pace, pumping harder and faster. He was panting from the workout, but he kept fucking me, harder and harder, until finally I heard a long, drawn-out moan, and I felt his dick twitch inside me, loading me with cum. Yeah!
I whispered,
"Thanks, bro . . . that was hot. What's your name?"
"Carlos."
His voice was low, and heavily accented, but since he was whispering too I couldn't tell if he was Mexican or Puerto Rican or what.
"Gracias, Carlos. Me encanto!"
He pulled out, and immediately someone else climbed on board. I guess we'd had an audience!
This guy had a smooth, muscular body and an even smaller cock than Carlos, but I loved how silky smooth his skin felt on my back, and he fucked really well, with a nice steady rhythm. He said his name was Terence.
I took two more loads after that: Anthony, who was lean and muscular and moved confidently and fucked like a jackhammer . . . his voice sounded Black, and his body had a distinctive funk that was a super turn-on.
The guy after him ignored me when I asked his name. He fucked quickly and blew quickly and behaved like I was just a hole for him to get off in, not a person. His dick felt great in my ass, but I didn't like how me made me feel.
I wondered if I should call it a day, but I didn't want to stop on a sour note.
"Hi Brad . . . you ready for more, or you need to rest?"
This guy didn't bother whispering!
It was great to heard a familiar voice . . . one of my regulars. But which one? His accent rang a bell, but I couldn't quite place him.
"Go for it, daddy!"
Calloused hands grabbed my asscheeks, prying them apart, and a meaty tongue dug into my butthole. I could feel his moustache tickling my asscheeks.
Andrzej! I know the feel of that moustache.
I pushed out, and the Polish daddy slurped up every drop of cum that I could squeeze out of my hole. Then he climbed on top of me and shoved his fat uncut cock straight in.
He swore and gabbled in a mix of Polish and English as he fucked me, and knowing how much he loved my ass made me feel great. He took his time, and I zoned out, not even thinking, just feeling his chunky body against mine, feeling that fat cock in my ass, enjoying the rocking of his hips, feeling his heat.
At last, he blew his load. He lay on top of me a long time after he bred me, chatting a little as he hugged me. Before he left, he kissed my cheek and said,
"Thanks, Brad. Hope to see you next time!"
I lay there, still ass up, taking a breather. I was starting to think I should really call it a day, when I heard a deep voice give an appreciative "Mm HMM!"
A finger ran softly down my spine from my neck to my ass. Strong hands grasped my butt cheeks and gave them a playful shake. The hands shifted to the back of my thighs, squeezing and kneading them. They stopped moving abruptly, and sort of pulled my legs apart, like the guy was staring at my butthole . . . or my birthmark?
It must have been my butthole, cause suddenly he was diving in, tongue probing, swirling, lapping cum from around my hole, sucking cum out of my hole, driving his tongue deeper into my hole. His beard was tickling my inner thighs, and I squirmed and moaned and gasped and squealed. It felt fantastic!
Then he fucked me. It's like every fuck today was a warmup, a dress rehearsal for the real performance. His dick was thick, and long, and hard, and it stretched and probed and rubbed things in me that wanted to be stretched and probed and rubbed exactly like he was doing.
This guy knew how to fuck! He'd pound me, then slow down and slide the whole length of his dick in and out, then poke at my hole with the tip, then shove in full depth.
I was moaning and squirming and practically crying. I screamed out,
"Fuck me, daddy! FUCK ME, DADDY!"
I wanted it to never end, but no one can fuck forever. After an epic pounding, the guy thrust five times, extra deep, and let out this big long sigh. I could feel his dick twitch inside me. I could feel the heat of his load filling me up.
He lay on top of me, breathing hard.
I whispered,
"Hey stud! That was fucking fantastic!! What's your name?"
He whispered back, just inches from my ear,
"You can call me Daddy."
He gave a playful nip to my ear, then whispered,
"And what's your name, Son?"
"Brad."
"Well, Brad, I hope I see you around. You're too delicious to leave alone."
After `Daddy' left I rolled over onto my back and furiously beat my meat, digging four fingers into my sloppy butthole. It took all of thirty seconds for me to shoot a massive load . . . ropes of cum spewing all over my chest and belly. I licked all four fingers clean . . . even the guy's cum was delicious . . . and wiped my load off my body with my towel.
It was later than I'd thought . . . no time even to shower . . . so I threw on my clothes and made a beeline for the red line.
Mom was putting the finishing touches on dinner as I walked in the door, so I ended up setting the table instead of showering. Dad arrived ten minutes after me, just as we were sitting down. It was a great dinner, and super nice to have all three of us around the table at the same time.
As I was finishing dessert, Mom got up to clear the dishes, and Dad leaned back in his chair. He stroked his beard and stared at me, looking . . . I don't know . . . amused?
"It occurred to me, Elliot, that it's been quite a while since I took a good look at that birthmark of yours. I should give it a proper checkup."
"You can look at it tonight if you like, but, um, let me shower first."
"No, the light's no good here. Come by the clinic tomorrow at 5:00. I'll block off an hour in the exam room so I can take a really close look . . . without any distractions."
Then he winked and dropped his voice so it wouldn't carry to the kitchen.
"And clean out before you come . . . Brad."