...for taking SO LONG to pick this project back up again. It hasn't been for a lack of sex but rather the intrusion of life and the sheer laziness in writing down all my experiences. I intend to pick this back up and do a better job of keeping you all updated with my experiences. To that end, many of the true tales I share will be in a non-linear format, without respect to dates. At least until I'm "all caught up"...shall we begin?
Its 1:30 am on a Sunday. I'm standing on the side of a main thoroughfare in my city a few yards from my SUV in flip flops, silky nylon running shorts, and a tank top (purchased at Target just like every other gay guy in the US this summer apparently). I'm desperately attempting to keep the load that was just shot in my ass actually IN my ass, doing my Kegels like no one's business, conversing with one of my fair city's finest law enforcement professionals in the glare of blue strobe lights and 60 billion candle power spot lights. A few steps away, the man responsible for the spunk wad fighting its way outside of my body is chatting with another representative of law enforcement. During all of this, "Bad Boys, Bad Boys, whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when the come for YOU" is running through my head. How did I get to this point you may ask? Lets back up about an hour and a half.
I'd had an extremely arduous week professionally and was ripe with anticipation for Saturday to come when I would have a little free time to work on getting bred. I made the necessary preparations and headed down to the parking lot behind the seedy gay bar I like to frequent to take loads. Now. In this city, I can get loads every night of the week with the exception of Saturday nights as a general rule. I haven't been able to figure out. Needless to say my expectations were fairly low.
At any rate, after fending off the resident aggressive hustlers behind the bar, I spy a fella ( 6' 2", tall, lean, 8c, white, usually somewhat drunk redneck in a beat up truck) who has bred me nearly weekly since I made this one of my regular stops when load hunting. Easy lay, hop out of the car into the bushes, get him hard with my hot wet mouth, turn around, bend over, and BAM! This guy fucks like its his JOB to get his nut inside me. He usually shoots pretty quick which is a bonus in a situation like this since time is of the essence here. I was certainly not disappointed. After about 5 minutes of hammering my hole he unloaded, with a series of grunts, what felt like a bullet of cum inside me followed be 4-5 more spasms of his rock hard cock. He always stays inside me for a little bit as if working his wad in there and making it take. After he's taken his pleasure and begins to deflate he pulls out very slowly as I flex my powerful ass muscles to milk out every last available drop. I get back into my SUV as he jumps into his truck and roars off. I'm sure you can all testify to the fact that when something as hot and satisfying as that experience occurs, ironically you are not satisfied at all and want more.
I open the mobile website for A4A and begin to look around, check messages, look for more, etc. when I get hit up by another guy (29, 6'4" white, thin, 9" uc) hits me up with a "sup". I've been trying to get this guy for months and it turns out he's at another seedy bar down the street from where I am. We arrange for me to pick him up out front and he is going to gladly give me another load.
Now, what I SHOULD have done is taken him to my place (a few minutes away) to relieve his balls of their precious cargo. For some dumb reason, I thought it would be hot to pull behind an obviously closed business on a side street, hop in the back of my SUV and arch my back for his load. He had a verifiable 9" blazingly hard cock which he slipped inside my naturally lubed fuck chute with just a little bit of spit for lube. We started out on my knees and then I flipped around on my back, braced my feet on the roof of cargo area and presented to him. He dove right in like a sailor on shore leave. THANK GOD he was also a quick shot breeding me with what he said was, and what certainly felt like a five day load.
We hopped back in the front seat, pulled out around the building, and here comes a pair of PoPo, lights off, making best use of their stealth mode. We actually made it to the main road before they pulled us over. Fortunately we hurriedly discussed our story (met at the bar, wanted to talk, needed a quiet place to do so, didn't get out of the car, blah, blah, blah) since I knew they were going to separate us to see if we both told the same story. The cop came up with some BS story about getting a call about two guys climbing fences and looking into windows. I'm pretty sure they knew we were fucking and we weren't fooling them in the least. We both had our documents in order, I have an HRC on the back of my vehicle, and most prowlers don't traipse around looking for a place to knock over in a brand new vehicle where the registration and insurance documents match the name and address of the driver's state-issued driver's license.
After they let us go, we both let out a HUGE sigh of relief (I think I even crossed myself several times) as I drove him back to the bar. We exchanged numbers and texted each other as we drove to our separate destinations (Sh. Don't tell the cops). I apologized profusely assuring him that it was not my intention to put him in any danger. He was totally cool and gracious and even wants to breed me again, albeit NOT behind a warehouse in the back of an SUV.
