It was around 9pm and I'd just finished my medium double-pepperoni pizza all by my lonesome in my hotel room, watching some pirated cooking show. Was eating while watching a cooking show like having sex while watching porn? Something to think about later.
Existential thoughts aside, I was already feeling super-guilty as I entered a full pizza in one day into my food log. I mean, I could cheat and not record it, or not record it all, or do half today and half tomorrow and just have a protein bar tomorrow ... any of those. Or just put it all today, it's not like I was following my diet plan.
It wasn't a hard plan, just don't over-eat! I'm 41 years old and have been "trying" to lose weight and build muscle since I first started ogling the guys in high school, and my mom's off-handed comment to my dad, "I might have to start buying him husky pants."
I had my ups and downs, but the ups were more than the downs, and I was now medium height at 5'8" and "average" weight according to the last time I updated my For Real dating app profile at 230 lbs. Okay, maybe 234 lbs after the last few days. "Average" is a large range, right? Maybe I had one of those tape worms that overrides my brain's "STOP EATING" directions. I should look into that.
Feeling guilty and sorry for myself, I pulled out my phone and loaded Humpr, the greatest time waster for gay men ever. My profile was nothing like me. I rationalized it by saying that it was a "social experiment" to see how people responded to my own ideal. Sometimes it made me feel better about myself to get attention because Some Day Soon® I was going to look like that. And men would be crawling over themselves to hook up with me and fuck me.
Not two minutes in and letting it access my location data (that I normally blocked) did I start to receive unsolicited dick pics. Some were "eh." I mean, they didn't look like the porn I liked. Others were "Oh daddy!" and made my hole clench. In my fantasy "social experiment," I was, of course, the only one with a fake profile and fake pics. Of course I was. Also, there were the ads; I deleted those messages.
It had been awhile since I had tweaked the profile, so I went in to remind myself of what I was pretending to be. Name was good, iBTM. Yup, that was right, and real. I mean, not my name, but certainly I was a bottom.
I listed my likes as muscles, running, swimming, surfing, mountain biking, weight lifting. Yeah ... sure, we'll go with those. The only real one was muscles. I also had music and roller coasters, and the sax. Well, two of three are real. Telescopes for astronomy, yup, and bacon and ice cream. Ok, we'll stick with those.
I had a heart next to "massive 🍆" ... definitely true. Keeping that. I had a heart next to "🚫✂️" ... WTF was I thinking with that one? Oh, right ... uncut. Yeah, Jewish American parents had screwed my dick over in the hospital before I was even a day old and I really wish I were uncut, and I certainly wanted to play with a guy with a hot, thick foreskin.
Anything else to tweak? Anything to tweak at all? I then remembered a recent hot erotica story I'd read. Paraphrasing, since it had been a few days, I added: "Sloppy man cunt to be used, prefer XL or XXL. My 🕳️ is already ruined, do your worst 😉." Heh. I mean, if it's a fantasy anyway, why not? My hole gave a tight squeeze and reminded me it had been over a year since I'd done any dildo or plug play, and three years since I'd been fucked. 'Cause no one likes a fat fuck. Or, so I told myself. Yeah, I should probably see someone about my negative self-image. Probably wasn't healthy. Just like the double-pepperoni pizza I'd eaten in one sitting.
Save, then back to the messages.
Oh wait, no, there were now Tribes and I should probably take another look at my birth date. Eh, I was feeling older tonight, so I rolled the year back to a healthy 31 years from the 26 it had been. Maybe those allegedly top twunks on InstaPix who claim they like older men were real and really meant it. Tribes ... College, Circuit, Jock, and ... oh, let's add Kinkster for good measure; my hole twitched when I did that. Maybe someone would want to fist "me" ... not that I'd ever done that. Okay, save, and back to messages.
Another guy with a massive dick sending me pics. Nice.
And then the fucking popup ads that take over your whole screen! Sigh. No, person-who-is-supposed-to-look-like-a-king, I don't care to save you from lava or drowning, just let me get back to my fantasies. Last time I could exit out of them by tapping the almost invisible "X" at the top-left, but I didn't see it this time. Quit the app, load back in ... done.
No new messages. Come on, guys! I'm hot! Or, based on my profile picture I am. I had selected a pale, nicely muscled ginger with neatly groomed facial hair sitting on a rock. Probably flexing his biceps to make them look bigger, but not in an obvious "I'm flexing mofos!" way. A pic I found on some image sharing site a decade ago so kids these days wouldn't recognize it and I felt pretty safe using it. I even had a few of him in other poses just in case people wanted a "confirmation" picture that it was really me.
More ad messages. I thought I deleted them? They now just seem to re-message me as soon as I delete them. Fuck! No, I didn't mean to tap, I meant to swipe left to delete you!
Now the app seemed to be frozen on this fucking ad. Though the ad was playing, I couldn't exit out of it and I couldn't exit out of Humpr, either.
Mild panic that whatever the latest virus to hit uPhones had invaded my device, I went to restart it ... hold + up volume should do it ... nothing.
I felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of my round face. When was my last backup?
I went to turn to look up on my laptop how to do a hard reboot of the phone, only to discover I couldn't move. Now something was really wrong. My eyes were drawn to my iPhone's screen as bright colors started to fill it.
The ad didn't have any product, no "Click to Go to the App£€ Store" or "Play Now!" But, it was sending out wavy, spiraling wedges of color from the center to the edges, where the central radiant started to move around, or maybe that was just the wavy colors throwing me off.
"Zane," my phone spoke to me. That was NOT the fake name I used on Humpr, it was Isak (gotta make it more exotic, Scandinavian!). A few more beads of sweat rolled down my head, one dripping off my chin.
"Don't you think you're a bit old for playing these kinds of games?" It appeared to be a rhetorical question given I could no longer speak or move, just watch my phone as more sweat dripped down my face.
The voice paused for several seconds before continuing, "So do we."
Whatever force had stopped my vocal cords released for a moment, letting me grunt out, "Who are you?" before freezing them again. It was playing with me. They(?) were playing with me.
"Let's just say that some people in positions of power or ability don't like to be catfished, and they feel a moral responsibility to stop people who are doing it."
You know that sense of panic where you feel as though your internal organs are falling through your torso? Like, if you had a wardrobe malfunction during a video telecon? Yeah ... that was how I felt when I heard the voice. I had no idea what was going on or what was going to happen, but based on the (previously) unbelievable happenings, I was taking what the voice said seriously.
It continued: "We're not bad people, Zane. We just don't like being lied to. So, your profile isn't going to lie anymore."
I felt a momentary glimmer of hope. Okay, they were just going to make my profile be the real me? Fine, I'll just delete it. Or maybe that's what they'll do, instead.
"Nothing so mundane."
FUCK! Reading my thoughts now? This was not going to be good.
"Calm down, Zane. Deep breath." I felt myself breathe deeply as my eyes were still fixed on the radiating rainbow wedges on my phone's screen. "Promise: Cross our hearts and hope to die, or something like that -- when we're done, you will really like the result, and Humpr will be a little safer and less frustrating than it was before with one less catfisher out there.
"Now, what we're going to do is just adapt you to the profile. We want you to watch, and we're just telling you this because there's nothing you can do to stop it. It's not some Bond film where we're telling you our secret plan and somehow you're going to find a secret lever to get out of the trap and stop it at the last minute. In fact, we've already started, like in Watchmen: it's certainly too late for you to get out of this."
They paused again and – as if by magic, which it certainly might have been – a mirror appeared in front of me. Just floating there, near the wall, above the desk of this mediocre hotel room that fit within work's per diem rate for this city.
"Take a look and see what we mean," the voice continued after the phone seemed to release my eyes and I could focus elsewhere.
My eyes shot up to the mirror, and I did look different. Just tiny changes, but I knew my face well enough to know that my thinning – fine ... balding (people don't respect the ing) – hair was not that thick. Nor was it that light. As I watched, my very dark brown hair filled in the top and even thickened on top and the sides beyond what I had had in my early 20s, the hair line now just an inch or two above my similarly much heavier eyebrows. It was lightening in color, too, passing through shades of brown and taking on a reddish hue, settling after two minutes on a medium copper-red that looked dyed and yet I knew, somehow, that it wasn't. My eyebrows were thick and settled on the same color but just a shade darker; my graphic design brain thinking it was maybe 10% less B in an HSB color system. If I could've, I probably would've smacked myself for that part.
While mulling on implementing a close cousin of self-flagellation, I also wondered how I knew that two minutes had passed. My eyes glanced around the mirror and noticed – I must've noticed it before it just hadn't registered in my conscious mind – a faint glowing LED set of numbers in the upper-middle part of the mirror. Each second, they decreased, so it was clearly a countdown clock. It was now at 16:52.
The voice spoke up again: "We started at 20 minutes. Thought that was long enough to make you pretty anxious but also draw this out to make it more fun for us watching. We might narrate some of this, but we also want to enjoy our popcorn, and some of the fun is seeing if you realize what's changing when.
"As a hint, we'll tell you that something is ALWAYS changing during this countdown. Pretty sure you know what's happened while we've been giving you this exposition."
I did. I was only half paying attention as my face itched like a gazillion ants crawling across it. I had never been able to grow a beard before, I thought it looked silly, was too much maintenance, yet at the same time super-lazy because you didn't shave. That was my justification for my own insecurities for always having a light, patchy beard the few times I experimented.
But, while that voice was talking, my face had erupted with hair to form an extremely neat, stubble style beard with no patches, and I somehow knew that it was a 2.0 mm trimmer to maintain. It seamlessly merged with the hair on my head with a color gradient to a lighter copper-red at the bottom. The hair on my head had been styled in the interim to have the correct length to merge to the full beard, while being longer on top and what appeared to be gel or some other styling agent to give the long-on-top some waves.
As my eyes trailed up-and-down my face, they hurt for a moment forcing me to close them. When they opened, my nondescript hazel had changed to an incredibly intense emerald green. Just as my hair looked dyed – but I somehow knew it wasn't – my eyes looked like I was wearing colored contacts – but again, I wasn't.
As I stared into those green pools, contrasting amazingly well with my hair, my eyes grew wider, more circular, taking on what I could only think was a more innocent and possibly vapid appearance. I tried relaxing them, but they were relaxed -- they had somehow changed my eye structure! Though, I'm not sure why I found that shocking when I had already been frozen, I had a magic mirror floating in front of me, and my hair had completely changed. Context matters, I suppose.
Right after my eyes changed shape, my plain, large nose appeared to shrink down a little, forming a more rounded nose that one would probably call a "button."
Pondering nose shapes, I barely noticed as my lips grew thicker, plumper, pinker, and even looked more smooth. "Perfect dick-sucking lips," I thought in my head. Not sure if it was my own thought or something they had planted.
"Nope, that's all you, Zane," I heard from my phone.
I heard a snigger come from my phone, and some faint cross-talk as though there were multiple people having a discussion. Then I heard, "At least for now."
FUCK.
I pushed my chair back and stood up. Not by my own choice, I just felt compelled to do it, my body following without my conscious brain in the loop. As I pushed back, my laptop slid to the side and the desk in front of me vanished, while the mirror grew to full length. The countdown timer was at 14:29. As I was standing and the room reconfiguring in front of me, I didn't notice my skin growing ever-so-slightly more tan, but the common pale color of a natural red head. A few freckles appeared on my cheeks.
After the mirror finished growing, my clothes dustified. "Nice one, Mxy," I heard from my phone.
I stared at my body. A pale comparison with what I wished I had, what I fantasized from my profile. What I called "pecs" were sagging, and my belly was hanging below my pants line. My dick was small and inconsequential, while a somewhat light but thin brown hair covered basically everything from the neck down. If I could've, I would've shrunk away from embarrassment, but that wasn't an option.
Instead, I watched as the room grew smaller -- no, I grew taller. Bigger. Stick me in a photo filter and press Embiggen and I embiggened. The mirror grew with me as I passed 5'10", 5'11", 6', 6'1", and then settled at 6'2". I must've weighed close to 280 lbs now! The same body shape, just ... bigger! I wanted to cry out of my innocent-looking wide, green eyes.
But, I couldn't. Those bastards had blocked my tear ducts?!
Helplessly, I watched as my body started to compress now, not down but in. My heart leapt as my belly lost its keg, no longer hanging down, and my moobs compressed back down. Even my thighs shrunk in as I watched. I could feel the weight lifting from my feet, and my back was no longer working so hard due to the removal of weight from my front. I'd forgotten what that felt like. 11:39.
Not pausing after the liposuction, my body now started to fill out again. A moment of panic was replaced with more joy as I saw how it was filling out: Muscle! I could see it like a wipe filter was moving up my body, and I simultaneously feel it tingling my skin. The tingles from my feet went up my calves, filling them out as I could see now in another mirror that had appeared behind me, so I could see front and back now in the mirror in front of me.
As my calves filled out with muscle, the tingling pins and needles continued up my thighs as they ballooned now with new muscle. I could see each individual muscle, like it was an anatomy display from that day in high school when my anat-phys (elective) teacher brought in some body builders to point out all the muscles. Fuck!– if I hadn't figured out I was gay before then ... .
No time for reminiscing, it was a constant wave as it washed up. I hadn't realized how much my butt had deflated from the liposuction but now filled out with shapely muscle, and another small, tingly wash over it and I saw it plump up more with a thin layer of fat. I was okay with that: My gluteus maximus was more maximus with a subtle, giggly fat cap. I almost giggled.
The tingling wave washed up more and it refined my lower torso into a firm but not massive six-pack, the rectus abdominis subdivided by intersectiones tendineae as my obliques similarly gained definition. It was only then that I realized I was remembering more of this high school class, a thought quickly tucked away as I also finally realized that the tingling was also removing any and all hair! No! I didn't want to be smooth! I wanted something!
But, the tingling wave continued on up, shaping my latissimus dorsi, my pecs, and then my deltoids. My pectoralis major spasmed and I could make out individual muscle fibers flexing, rippling across, while my deltoids were clearly separating into anterior, lateral, and posterior. How the hell was all this coming back to me? I hated the muscle identification test, the only one I did worse on was the cardiac system!
The spasming coincided with the wave seeming to pause at my shoulders, still there tingling, while it washed briefly up my neck and I could see my neck muscles start to get more pronounced. The tingling dissipated at the base of my jaw and then went from my shoulders, traveling down my arms. My upper arms went from what were probably 12" around to what had to be at least 19". Just massive biceps and triceps – at least compared to what they were – as the tingling wave of hair removal and muscle creation continued down my arms, emphasizing my forearm muscles, and then finally dissipating at my finger tips. 7:06.
I was a new man. Taller, muscular in an "I clearly work out" way, completely smooth below the neck, and a restructured nose, eyes, narrower face, and scruffy beard that seamlessly transitioned into revitalized hair that was a new color along with my eyes. My tongue snaked out of my mouth and went a surprising distance before coming back to lick my thick, plump lips. I shuddered at the tingling, horny sensation that emanated from them. Fuck, I was turning myself on now. And if I had to guess, this musculature at this height would put me at ... wait-- really? I estimated about 230 lbs.
Those thoughts were quick (7:03) and interrupted as I felt new pins-and-needles all over my limbs and torso. Thin, dark copper-red hair sprouted on my legs, forearms and thickly around my dick, while simultaneously all the stretch marks across my skin were repaired. The sensation and hair restoration traveled up from my crotch in a thinning tree-like pattern, with a thicker central trunk through the center of my abs and growing less dense farther away from that center line, petering out to nothing by the time it would have gotten to my transversus abdominis (off the side of my six-pack). It disappeared at the top of my abs and sprouted again, hair popping out of the center of my chest over my sternum and lightly coating my pecs, but staying away from my neck and my shoulders; instead, some more freckles emerged there. My arms were slightly away from my torso due to their new size, and I could see thicker red hair growing in my pits.
The tingling had disappeared now except at my crotch. I could see in the mirror that the hair was thick down there, and then I suddenly spasmed as though I had just had an orgasm but without any warning, my eyes clenching shut. I spasmed again, and again ... I lost count, but each time it felt like my penis was growing harder and harder, even though it had started soft.
The sensation finally stopped, and when I could open my eyes (5:58) I saw a red monster standing out from my crotch. It had to be at least 8" long and thick, and with - seriously? - a thick foreskin stretching over the angry purple head. My balls had grown to the size of chicken eggs, stretching my sack down. As I watched, all the new hair that had sprouted on my balls and below my dick disappeared, but – again, somehow – I knew this was a style choice and I'd have to maintain it. Similarly, almost like a barber had done it, there was a short fade up to the thicker, lengthy pubes above my dick and they now appeared well manscaped and tidy, and growing up to meet the hair on my abs.
There were almost six minutes left, I wasn't sure what else was going to happen. I had already been through an incredibly intense set of changes. I was a walking (if I could move my legs) wet dream and my dick had started to drip precum down its new, lengthy shaft. Suddenly, I shuddered again from what felt like another orgasm only ... it was from my ass? Was an assgasm a real thing?
My dick softened to just semi-hard, bending down under its own weight while the precum disappeared as though it had been sucked back in through the slit. It must have been because felt like a solid lump that I could literally feel zoom through my urethra and – somewhere? – migrating inside me only for me to feel it slipping across my hole as my ass spasmed again. Throughout that migrating motion it felt like it was dragging something with it, and my dick felt less sensitive while my hole shuddered again. I could see my hairless cheeks separate, as though pulled apart by invisible hands -- apart and up and then frozen like that, as though I was wearing an invisible, permanent jock strap that not only lifted but separated.
The mirror curved ever-so-slightly and it magnified the image of my asshole. The hole glistened as though lip gloss – or, lubrication? – had been applied. My hole spasmed again as the sensitivity ratcheted up and felt more intense than any orgasm I'd ever felt from my previously small dick. Then, the fourth assgasm came and I felt a head rush, and my whole body felt flush and relaxed as though I had just taken a massive hit of blasters. I didn't think it was possible, but I felt even more horny. 4:32.
My head was swimming and I was sure that if I hadn't been immobilized and held by some invisible force, I would've collapsed. My eyes were still focused on my hole, and it felt as though it was being pumped. Or, how I imagined it would have felt to be pumped, I'd never broken down and gotten an ass lips pump before.
The assgasm feeling was focused all through my manpussy lips and inside them, and it no longer was a single massive spasm event, it was an ebb and flow sensation: The flow felt a building of pressure and intensity, and the ebb released it, at the same rate as slow breathing so it must've been every couple seconds. I squinted my deep green eyes at the mirror, trying to see my hole better, which was a bit hard to do as I was unfocused from that phantom hit of blasters. Through my whole-body flush, I could literally see it opening and shutting, as though it was being forced open by some inflatable dildo that was inflating and deflating. 4:01.
I don't know if it was the blasters (or something similar?) or the experience of these changes in general, but it felt as though time was slowing down. The normal background hotel sounds grew more distant, and my own heart beat felt slower and sounded slower pounding in my ears as I lost all focus to anything but what was going on with my hole.
The feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced before: Instead of surfing a massive wave and then spending 20 minutes paddling out to find another good one, it was like I was in a wave pool with crest after crest pushing through my body with no pause between them, emanating from my hole with pleasure I had never ever experienced before. I watched as my hole kept opening and closing, as though it was breathing in time with the sensations of whatever was going on back there. I tried to look closer through the mild pounding in my head and ... yes! ... it was opening wider each time. What started as maybe 1" at the widest was now clearly being pushed open past the width of a soda can, and I kept watching as it pushed past the width of a standard wine bottle, maybe even a Champaign bottle. The stretching, full sensation of something invisible forcing it open wider and wider each time made my knees buckle, and each time it closed back down the cunt lips were puffier and looked more and more, well ... used. My hole was turning into me, my focus was only with it, I was becoming my hole; I felt as if my entire being was being centered on that area of my body, a desire to be used and stretched and filled, with so many pleasure receptors that even a light breeze blown across it would set me off.
The sensation of time's passage slowly started to return to normal when I felt what again could only be described as some massive hit of blasters. My head swam and I was vaguely aware of my pussy feeling another massive stretch, this time without an ebb, it just kept widening. I blearily watched in the mirror at what could only be descried as a massive void between my cheeks. My hole was leaking juice or precum or – something – all around it, the lips were stretched so taught, and it looked like my cunt could fit at least three fists. If I had been more alert, I'm sure I would have wondered how I would ever be able to walk again, how anyone would ever want to have sex with me again, my hole was ruined.
My head started to clear from the blasters, and my entire body shuddered. As I regained more awareness, I felt the sensation of something pulling out of my void, extremely slowly, and I saw my manpussy lips pulling inwards following the phantom ... whatever it was.
I swear I heard a plop when it came out but it could've just been in my head, and I looked at my hole in the reflection of the mirror. Suddenly, I remembered my profile: "Sloppy man cunt to be used, prefer XL or XXL. My 🕳️ is already ruined, do your worst 😉."
My hole gave a light squeeze and my knees felt weak again. THAT was a hole now. It dripped lubricant that I somehow knew was a natural pussy juice it would produce. I tried to have some muscle control and squeeze it again. It was the most non-committal muscle contraction I'd had, but in doing so it burst with sensation and caused me to moan again. At least I wouldn't have to worry about leaking too much. I felt the sensation of a finger, tongue or - something - travel from my balls up my open cheeks across my manpussy; the sensation was so intense I literally saw stars before recovering. The thick lips that were gatekeepers to my prostate and cave of wonders quivered, practically inviting anything to part them and feed their need. I thought "cunt" in my head and it squeezed again. It was a hole - I was a hole - ruined but so very needy for the next cock. 3:02.
I was still recovering from the sensation, and swimming out of the blasters when I noticed the LED at 2:30. The voice had said something was always happening during the count down, but what had happened the last half-minute? My eyes changed focus from my plump manpussy lips and quickly scanned over my body. Big muscles, trimmed bush with shaved balls, chest hair, beard, green eyes, DSLs, big uncut dick ... what was different?
"Zane, weren't you 41?" I heard the voice from my phone.
Then I realized my skin was smoothing as I watched. Collagen I had lost or had broken down was re-forming and making my skin look younger, erasing lines. Even my facial structure was changing to round out subtly into a more youthful appearance. I was still clearly past my mid-20s, and if I had to guess now, I looked right around 30 years old. And the more I looked, the more I thought I recogni– I LOOKED LIKE THE PICTURE I STOLE! Or, a close cousin. There were definitely differences (I knew all the details of those photos very well by this point). But there was an obvious resemblance.
My eyes traveled from my face down my corded neck and to my chest again when I felt an immensely pleasurable sensation from my right nipple. It had just been pierced. The mirror showed a 14 gauge circle with a tiny dick dangling from it. FUCK. No hiding that. I guessed it was not something I'd be able to remove. I gasped as a breeze came from nowhere and blew across my pecs. The tiny, dangling metal dick wobbled back-and-forth and I felt a tugging on my tit: The mirror showed both nipples thickening and lengthening. It wasn't obscene, but they were now much larger than average, and they looked like the result of regular pumping. The skin of my pecs had a much larger surface area now, and as soon as the nipple tips finished growing, the darker pink areola increased in size. No longer tiny little nipple buds the size of dimes, my pec shelf was sporting dark pink nipple areas nearly the size of half dollars, crowned by nipples the size of small pencil erasers (did anyone still use those?). A last final blast of wind across them and I shuddered, my hole twitching.
My focus shifted: Out of the corner of my eye I saw more changes near the top of my head and looked up in time to see a few thin lines, maybe slight wedges, shaved into the red hair going from my temples back towards my ears on my left side.
I felt something cold and a new weight on my crotch. Looking down, I saw a metal cock ring up against my pubic bone, and a metal ball stretcher gripping my balls and pulling them down with a pleasant, continuous sensation. My dick was still not past semi-hard at this point, it hadn't been hard since I felt that bead of precum travel back inside me. I had a dread that it might never get hard again. 1:48.
I looked again at the ball stretcher and managed to wiggle my hips a bit, feeling the sensation of the stretcher wobble and pulling deliciously at my egg-sized nuts. It wasn't orgasmic, but it certainly felt amazingly pleasurable in a different – almost naughty – way. When I did so, I noticed I barely felt any sensation from my dick. My mind thought back and remembered I'd recently selected "Kinkster." My eyes re-focused towards my feet just in time to see an anklet form, what looked like an anodized aluminum or titanium chain with rainbow stripes.
Not quite as interested in that, my mind went back to my hole and I was about to try to squeeze it again when my body went more rigid than before, as if I was seizing up.
I'm sure if I could see I would've seen my eyes roll back in my head and my body twitching slightly as my head felt like it was being zapped all over by massive static discharges, so quickly and in rapid succession that I lost track of them or, really, anything. There was nothing I could do, I just felt it wash over me and I could not see, feel, hear, taste, or smell anything. Just a seemingly endless electric surge throughout my brain.
I looked at my phone and was hoping for some action tonight. I was stuck in a shitty hotel room for a fitness expo all week, and I was itching for some action. While I liked the college boys, I certainly didn't qualify as one anymore, but I fully embraced my jock bod and at 31 I was certainly still in my prime. I'd bed an 18 year-old twink, twunk, otter, or wolf as easily and as quickly as I'd spread my legs for a 50-year-old bear, cub, or older silver fox. "Got dick? Will make you cum," was my motto.
I would've just hit up a club but I had no ride, though a Yubre could've worked in a pinch. But, why get take-out when you can have delivery? There were definitely some like-minded guys here at the hotel tonight based on the distances in Humpr.
As soon as I opened the app, I was already getting guys messaging me. And ads. I hate those ads. Why do I care about matching up jewels so a cartoon king-looking guy can escape drowning? I could clearly do it better than the person who recorded it but without a way to exit the ad, I quit it and re-opened.
Okay, first person ... meh, they're too far. Second, yeah, too far and can't travel, either. Third, same. I could host, but I didn't want to. I've done the "I'll leave the door open slightly" where I'm on the bed ass-up and blindfold on, but I just wasn't feeling that tonight.
My hole involuntarily flexed and I shuddered. "Don't worry, you'll get some dick soon," I muttered to myself. I'd been training my hole since I knew stuff could go in, and by this point there wasn't much that couldn't. My pussy lips were swollen – anyone looking at them could tell my hole was used and made to be used some more. I was more interested in it than my dick: It seemed like the more I played with my hole, the more sensitive it got while the less sensitive my dick got.
FUCK! How hard is it to get laid? I unconsciously palmed my thick, heavy, mostly soft dick. I loved the feeling of the cock ring at its base, I pretty much never took it off, and somehow it never triggered TSA. Same with the ball stretcher. Weird, but WTF do I know about this stuff? The added sensation from the heavy metal was nice, and I could feel my dick plump up. Not too hard, these days it rarely got past semi-hard unless I was about to shoot, but guys seemed to love seeing a hung bottom's semi-hard dick slap around, drooling precum past its heavy hood while they were fucking me.
Focus!
Okay, fourth guy who hit me up ... mid-50s, took care of himself but had clearly seen some better days, looks like he has nice lean muscle. Ooo! A room number! Okay, this was promising.
≫ Rm 502 if interested.
≪ Cool man. What do you like?
≫ Pounding hot guys like you.
≪ ;)
≫ You?
≪ Getting pounded. Exercising, music, stargazing, cream.
≪ Err, ice cream. But man cream works, too! :P
≫ Heh.
≫ *Hot. Ducking autocorrect.
≫ *Ducking
≫ *Ducking!
≫ *FUCKING!!
≫ Wanna get fucked by two guys tonight?
≪ Oh?
≫ Yeah, I have a student with me.
Alarm bells started to go off. Student? Did I need to remind people 🔞?
≫ ...
≫ That came out wrong. I teach high school bio. I'm here on vacation, and I ran into a former student of mine who's in college for sports medicine. All above-board, legal, he's 20, not a creamer I swear.
≫ *not a creeper
≪ Ah, ok.
≫ You got any more pics? No offense, but you look like some pictures I saw online a decade ago.
I rolled my eyes and went to the bathroom and switched to the camera app. That question happened more often with older guys, no one younger ever asked. Seriously, did they think I was catfishing them? Only fuckin' morons trying to get their rocks off for who knows what reason would do that.
I tried to figure out what pose might turn this daddy and - maybe twunk? maybe wrestler hunk? maybe twink? - on. First, standard pic looking at the mirror, smiling. Mouth closed, lips untightened so he could see my sexy DSLs through my scruffy, copper-red beard. Deep, emerald eyes focused at the mirror, and snap! Send.
Next, I put my right arm behind my head, making sure to flex just a tiny bit. I want daddy hot and bothered by the time I show. My loose tank top exposed my hairy pit that spilled with gold-red hair like straw reflecting the light of sunset, my biceps and triceps bulging, and a cute nip slip with a hint off my nipple ring showing past the shirt ... with my naughty dick dangle from it. I pushed out my lips into a pout that went well with my button nose and wide eyes. Snap! Send.
≪ Those work, Daddy? Do I need to send a pic with a newspaper with today's date? ;)
≫ Fuck!
≫ How quickly can you be here?
≪ Always ready, be there in like 2 min.
≫ :D
My room key was on my phone, so I took a quick rinse of mouthwash and went to the stairs. Jogged up three flights, out the door, around two corners, and knocked.
A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal a guy whose head maybe came up to my pec, and he looked somewhat stunned. He stood perfectly still, so I was able to size him up and perhaps stereotypically placed him solidly in the "twunk" category. A few seconds later, he hadn't moved, so I coughed slightly and he stepped out of the way to let me in, the door closing behind me.
The daddy came out of the bathroom then and stopped suddenly when he saw me. "Isak?"
"Mr. Moore?"
"Oh my gosh! I thought you looked familiar! Please, call me Ben." He came up to me and gave me a hug. The twunk just stood by the door. "Jeremy! Come over here and meet Isak! I knew I recognized those eyes." Jeremy shuffled over to us, shyly, before reaching out his hand.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed him, pulling him closer and hugging him. I said in a low, husky voice, "Come on dude. Your dick is gonna be buried in my pussy later, I think you can touch me a bit more than a handshake!" If he could've melted, I think he would have. But, his hands tentatively clasped around my broad back and he started to rub up and down. I purposely flexed my back muscles – just a little! – for his benefit. And, well, groped him. I mean, why not? It was semi-soft and felt maybe a bit on the larger size but otherwise unremarkable. But, a dick's a dick. After letting him rub me for maybe ten seconds, I slithered out my tongue and licked behind his earlobe en route to pulling back a bit and giving him a quick peck on the lips, moaning into it since my lips seemed hard-wired to my hole.
"Hey guys, leave some for me!" Ben laughingly called to us. Jeremy pulled back at that and moved closer to Ben, like he was afraid of me, but Ben wouldn't let him move farther away. "Isak, take a seat on the bed. Seriously, I didn't realize it was you – the beard is new. What the fuck have you been up to!"
I told him about how after taking his anat-phys class in high school I chose to pursue a career in fitness and how it had taken me on the trajectory that led me here. Mr. Moore – Ben – was still teaching, and Jeremy had taken the same class. Jeremy opened up during my story and asked if Ben had brought in body builders for my class, too, during the muscle lesson. "Oh yeah! I was so glad I sat in the back and desks were low, otherwise this monster would've been shown off to the whole class!" I replied as I yanked my shorts down.
Both Ben's and Jeremy's mouths opened slightly in awe, while Jeremy looked up and asked if he could touch it. I rolled my eyes but nodded permission and he tentatively took my cock and balls into his hand. Ben remarked, "You know, I can see a lot more from the front of the class than you students think." He winked at me.
"Does it hurt?" Jeremy asked of the stretcher.
"Nah, it feels amazing. Gentle tugging all the time, reminding me it's there and how much cum they pump out!"
Jeremy just continued to feel the smooth ballsack, surrounding skin, and then took my dick in his hand to feel its weight. He muttered "love fire bushes" as his finger started to rub back-and-forth over my slit, dipping between the head and the foreskin that hadn't pulled back yet.
"Damn, Isak, you look -- wow." Ben shook his head. "I mean, wow. I could've sworn I was being catfished."
"Aww, come on now Mr. M-- Ben. I'd never do that! Only absolute pricks do that!"
"Yeah, but you're like -- wow. Everything I look for in a guy to hook up with. You've gotten so much more 'mature' since 12th grade." He paused. "Are you sure this isn't too weird?"
I looked at him while Jeremy continued to thumb my dick head. It was still semi-soft. It never got hard these days unless my cunt was also being stimulated. A lot. But I didn't care, my pussy lips were much more sensitive than it, anyway. Genetic abnormality or training or whatever, it was like most of the nerves that should be in my dick were in my pussy. I didn't care.
"Fuck, Ben. No. It's been almost 15 years. We're both - err, all – consenting adults here, right? Besides, tell me you never had any student-teacher fantasies. I know I certainly did ..." I growled that last sentence.
Ben coughed and came over to sit on the bed with me and ran his fingers through my lush red hair, the back of his hand down my stubble while staring into my eyes. His finger traced my neck muscle and he asked, smirking, "Name this one?"
"Sternocleidomastoid!" both Jeremy and I shouted at the same time. Ben smiled.
"Correct!" he smiled. "I'd say correct answers get rewarded with a lollipop, but I want to save that for later."
He reached through the wide holes of my tank top to rub my pecs. I flexed them for him.
"Mmmm," both he and I moaned.
Jeremy was still thumbing my dick but used his other hand to rub my abs and obliques.
"Isak, do you want to come do the muscle demo next year. You're still in the area?" he asked as he took my right nipple into his mouth.
"Yes!" I gasped, answering his question and his mouth on my tit, his teeth gently pulling on the ring.
"And maybe after ..." he said as he pulled my shirt off and licked the line at the insertion of my long and short biceps brachii head under my anterior deltoid. Damn, why was my brain going to muscle names?! "... you can call me 'Mr. Moore' and we can explore these muscles some more ... ." He licked from my armpit, taking a deep inhale, up my upper arm to my fucking shoulder and I was so very turned on.
Jeremy's hand had moved from my abs and obliques to my thighs, his other hand still thumbing my dick head and glans.
When Ben was finished licking, he moved back to take off his own clothes. He was still hot, hairier than me and most of it was silver, but it was generally lean muscle with maybe a bit of a belly that is so hard not to develop as one ages. His dick was average, but I knew my cunt would enjoy sucking on it. Maybe an appetizer? I still hadn't seen Jeremy naked.
Speaking of which, with both of us naked, Jeremy took the cue and shucked his own clothes. Now that was a nice, tender morsel exposed. The kid might've been 20 and a twunk, but was a sleeper build. Certainly not a twink, he had defined muscles, but I could tell as he flexed while he stripped off his shirt and pants that there was some distinct muscle under there. "Flex for us!" I told him. Generally smooth-ish, I could tell from my hands now roaming his pecs that he didn't shave it, his unruly bush said he didn't manscape. Eh, he'll learn. Or not, depending on how he wants to really go forward. Curly brown hair and pale blue eyes, the muscles certainly popped out as he flexed and moaned as he enjoyed my hands roaming over his skin. He was otherwise unremarkable until I saw his dick.
Now THAT was a sleeper, too. When I'd groped him before, he was mostly soft and it felt unremarkable. Maybe a bit thick, but it was hard to tell. Or, soft to tell? Anyway, what I was looking at now was hard and dripping, with a thick hoodie that was pulled back from the head and draped tightly across his upper shaft. I'd taken some big dicks up my hole, and fists, and a traffic cone dildo, and two fists, and ... okay, where was I?
Right, I've had some big dicks up my hole, but it felt like it was quaking looking at Jeremy's dick. I was drooling from both my mouth and my manpussy, the latter leaking a natural lubrication that a doctor hookup of mine once said was a "remarkable mutation" but didn't raise any cause for alarm. I would have tried to squeeze my cheeks shut to avoid making a mess on the bedspread, but remembered that my cheeks never really closed. Another quirk of my musculature was that my cheeks were always open to reveal my hole. Meanwhile, my hole was so ruined at this point that, while it could suck any man's cock like no one's business, it still leaked its own precum. Sigh. Sorry to the housekeeping staff.
Anyway, Jeremy's dick had to be longer than 10". I fell over towards it, on my knees, ass up, my mouth hovering close to that glistening dewdrop of precum begging to drip down. My left hand grasped his low-hanging, hairy nuts while my right hand grasped his shaft. I'm a big guy. Okay, not huge, but Economy class on an airplane was uncomfortable. I hated flying it, but being a PT didn't afford me the luxury of many upgrades. Maybe I should try that JustFans thing and could make some cash? Thoughts for another day ... . The important thing was that even with my larger hands, my fist could not close around his dick, and its base stretched from my chin up past my eyes. Wow. And on a guy more than a head shorter than me, it looked ginormous.
I stuck out my tongue and licked from the bottom of his balls up to JUST below the tip of his dick, then back down. I buried my nose in his pubes and inhaled deeply -- he smelled of soap and a bit of sweat, like he'd just finished in a locker room. Mmmmmm...
I moved back and stuck my tongue out, flicking it across his slit and finally tasting his precum that had already started to drip down the length of his massive shaft. It tasted of salty caramel. I couldn't resist any longer.
As I plunged down on his massive shaft, I groaned and moaned loudly at the combination of what was happening all at once: First, his dick was stretching my mouth and going down my throat in an eye-watering stretch that felt amazing. Second, his hands clasped through my hair and he pushed down while thrusting up, forcing his dick all the way in my throat. The shove down caused my pecs to graze his knees as he was kneeling down on the bed, and the sensitivity of my nipples sent a jolt straight to my hole. Which, third, was suddenly being assaulted by Ben's tongue. Though both of his hands were placed on my ass cheeks, I thanked my lucky stars – which I was seeing from the sensations – that my cheeks were naturally spread open. It gave me so much better access to my most sensitive area that was now being munched on by my former teacher.
As I swirled my tongue around the base of Jeremy's dick, Ben's tongue was swirling inside my hole. I flexed it, opening it, and I could feel my own precum leaking out of it and mixing with Ben's saliva. My hole was wrecked, but I still managed to squeeze it around his probing tongue, I hoped giving him a preview of what would come if – when – he shoved his dick in.
I'm a multi-tasker, and as I consciously flexed my mangina around Ben's thick tongue, I was also working my throat to caress Jeremy's cock as it dribbled its own lubricant down my esophagus. I stretched my jaw a little bit more and managed to stick my tongue past my plump, stretched lips, sliding it down his cock's root to lick his balls. Jeremy shuddered, "Oh! Fuck!"
I smiled. On the inside. He pulled my head up and down by my hair, skull fucking me, using my mouth like a fleshlight, focused only on nutting into a hole. squeeze
I felt like I was no longer a person to him, I was just something giving him pleasure. Whether it was my own fantasy or something shared didn't matter. His thrusts and arm motions got faster than I've had in awhile, and they were growing uneven. I stretched my incredibly long tongue just as far as it could go and managed to lick his perineum. With just one lick, he jammed my head down as far as it could go, thrust his hips up, and I could feel his testes contracting. The tip of my tongue felt his reproductive muscles spasming, while the back of my tongue wished it could taste the cum I could feel streaming down my throat. My nose, buried in his pubes, smelled more sweat and sex than soap now, and I knew he was experiencing a sensory overload like me.
Because Ben was still working my hole. In fact, while the two of us were distracted with Jeremy's cream cascade, he had switched from tonguing me to dicking me. He was an average size, maybe a bit less than 6" long and 1.5" across, but my cocksleeve was so sensitive at this point that I felt every little bit of it gliding through my canal and stroking past my prostate. But I could also ignore it while I finished with Jeremy. Or, round 1 with Jeremy.
As Ben pounded me, Jeremy was frozen, holding my head down, my plump, sensitive lips feeling around the base of his dick and the small amount of perspiration that had dripped there from his torso. He was breathing so heavily after nutting what must've been at least ten massive spurts before tapering off, and I was happy to continue to let him use my mouth and throat as a sheath for his enormous dick. But, "all good things" 'n' all that, I could feel his dick slowly start to shrink back, and his grip relax.
I swirled my tongue around his balls one more time, and then gently lifted my head and tightened my DSL's around his shaft as it smoothly withdrew. I stopped at the head, hoovering as much cream as I could so as to savor the taste, causing him to squirm from the overly sensitive head. I smirked, made sure my lips pulled his foreskin back over his glans, then let my tongue do one lap between those two bits of sensitive skin before letting his dick fully withdraw from my mouth with a wet slap onto his thigh.
Still panting a little, Jeremy shakily backed off the bed and plopped down into a chair, arms on the armrests, and watched us. I said to him, "When Ben's done, I expect round two in my other hole." Young guy like that, I was sure that in 10–20 minutes, he'd be "up" for the task, and I could now focus on Ben pounding my swollen ass lips.
I've never been that much of a size queen. I mean, yeah, what red-blooded massive bottom doesn't like a giant dick? But if a guy knows what he's doing, and does it well, then it doesn't really matter how big he is. And Ben knew what he was doing. The silver fox was pounding me like a jackrabbit, almost as quickly as my fuck machine at home did, or so it felt. Now I knew part of how he stayed in shape. I worked hard on squeezing him given that I probably was looser than the average hole, and he moaned into me as I felt his balls smack up against mine, doggy-style.
After a few minutes, he flipped me over, while still impaled on his dick, and I could watch him as he looked into my wide, deep eyes while thrusting in and out. The head of his dick just managed to slide fully past my prostate with each stroke, making me whimper in time to his thrusts. Jeremy – as I suspected – was a fast recoverer and came over to the bed within five minutes. Ben pushed me a little farther so my head dangled off the edge, and Jeremy teased my eager lips with the head of his cock. It was still pretty soft, but 7" of "pretty soft" dick is still a nice appendage to lick and slurp. When he tweaked my nipples after running the backs of his hands along my torso, well, that was an extra bonus.
Several more minutes of pounding and – I admit – I wanted to move this along and try my hand ... well, hole ... at Jeremy's dick. I swallowed his stiffening 8" down to the hilt, and moved his hand to feel his dick in my throat. When he did, I felt him shudder and it grow a little more.
I started to work my cunt harder, gripping Ben's dick for all it was worth. A little reluctantly, I let Jeremy's cock go and gestured with my eyes over to Ben. He managed to understand my vague cue and walked up behind our former teacher, got up on the bed, and grabbed hold of Ben's pecs from behind. Jeremy's hardening shaft nestled between Ben's own asscheeks that were flexing with each thrust, helping get Jeremy harder while Ben started to grunt and moan more as his thrusts became erratic. Jeremy tilted his head up just a bit and started kissing, tonguing, and nibbling slightly on Ben's neck.
"Can I cum in you? I'm almost there," he asked.
"You've been tested recently?"
"Last week, and on PrEP."
I nodded and reached up to pull him closer. Jeremy took the opportunity to twist Ben's nipples hard.
"Ugh! I'm cumming!" Ben yelled as he froze and I could feel his load filling me. I counted three big spurts before he knelt down and kissed me; I moaned into the kiss, my thick, pink lips overly sensitized whenever I was getting fucked. I snaked my tongue into his mouth as we kissed.
Eventually, he withdrew from my mouth, and he rubbed my scruff. "I like this, very sexy."
I smiled at the compliment and chuckled, "And that's all you liked?"
Ben and Jeremy both laughed, and Ben pulled out of my ass. "It's a bit of a fetish," he replied, "especially on a hot ginger." He gently rubbed the hole his dick had just emerged from with his fingers and I involuntarily arched my back, my semi-hard dick flopping around and smearing precum over my abs.
"But, the rest ain't bad, either," he winked. He rolled off the bed and stood up, turning to Jeremy. "Sloppy seconds?"
Jeremy didn't answer verbally, he just spit on his hand, gave his full mast a few strokes, and rammed it home. Ah, kids these days: No finesse!
With a dick that big, though, I swear I saw stars again as he started to pound me. So many sensations emanated from my hole as he thrust while pushing my legs up on either of his shoulders. The stretch was incredible, both width and depth. Yes, I've been opened like this before. I mean, from novelty dildos that are modeled after mythical creatures to a baseball bat, pool balls, and a traffic cone use (that was a wild night on the side of the road!), sure, I've had bigger.
But, there's nothing quite like a real dick. To know that my cunt is being used as it was meant to be used: for pleasuring dicks. That I was being used as I was meant to be used by other men.
Jeremy's fuckstick stretched my hole wide all along his length, and I could feel my pussy lips distend, following his dick out – trying to hold on – only to be pushed back in with each thrust back in my hole. I could feel his length rubbing along my prostate, milking it for the entire duration of each and every thrust. The head of his dick easily popped through my second hole, massaging at least 3" extra beyond it, something that few men had done before. And, even though Jeremy only pulled about half-way out each time, that meant my prostate was stimulated 100% of each stroke while my second hole got massaged each and every time.
I was a bit of an incoherent mess, just lost in the sensations emanating from his amazing dick. Ben apparently decided he wasn't done – at least not done playing – and ran his hands all over my body. From my thighs first, he migrated to my crotch and jacked my dick a few times, playing with the foreskin while Jeremy's pounding did most of the work, fucking Ben's hand with my semi. I was producing so much precum from it that Ben had no need for lube, while my hole's own lubrication kept Jeremy sliding in and out trouble-free.
When I didn't get hard, Ben moved to run his fingers through my trimmed pubes while one hand tweaked my pierced nipple. He then moved his hand from my pubes to my lower torso, gently caressing my cobbled core and the thin hairs on it, then going back to the center and tracing the thicker hair line up to my pecs. I had my hands behind my head for this, my upper body muscles flexing, and when Ben moved around to my head, I grasped my dick and balls with my left hand, leaving my right one behind my head. Ben used both hands to caress and squeeze my pecs, playing with the muscle, eraser-sized nipples, and swirling through my chest hair.
He moved his left hand to caress the side of my head while his other groped my large deltoids, biceps, and triceps. He bent over and licked my armpit just a bit, the longer hairs sticking out, while I instinctively tried to grab his soft dick with my mouth. I missed, but Ben didn't care. "Beautiful," he remarked. In another situation, I might have blushed, especially given how light my skin was.
Instead, I was so lost in the sensations from my other end I just stared up at him with my wide, green eyes, jerking my dick up and down from the force of Jeremy's thrusts.
Despite having cum a massive load down my gullet no more than a half hour ago, Jeremy sounded off, "Getting close, gonna cum soon!"
I was so lost in things that by this point, I didn't know who was doing what, but I felt a hand on my balls and another on my pierced nipple. It was growing too much. Without any warning, I felt my smooth balls draw up and my dick harden to its full 8". I had just had time to yell, "Cumming!" before I blasted all over my hair, then in my own mouth, and down my chest to my pubes.
The powerful contractions set Jeremy off. I heard "Oh fuck, fuck, FUCK!" and felt him pull out. He frantically beat his meat while moaning, "Gonna paint that ginger chest," and he started to shoot. My eyes were open so I could see, and fortunately he missed my eyes. As Ben tweaked Jeremy's tits, I could feel and hear the heavy splat land on my hair, smelled it as it shot near my nose, managed to get my tongue out and mouth open so a fair bit landed there, while the rest was strewn over my chest and torso.
Ben let go and Jeremy collapsed down on me, breathing heavily. A few pants, and he lifted himself up and started to kiss me. He moved his face to my cheek and licked the cum from it – a mixture of mine and his – and kissed me gently again. He repeated this, and I heard a "Fuck that's hot," from off to the side, and then I felt another tongue on the other side of my face licking the cum and kissing both of us.
After several minutes of that, we all laid down on the bed together and rested. And fell asleep.
Some time in the middle of the night, I was awoken when I heard the shower turn on. No one was next to me, so I got up – crusty – and saw the two of them together in the shower. Neither hard, but both helping to wash each other off. Jeremy with his leaner, nearly hairless form but large, soft dick clearly standing out from his thick bush; and taller Ben with his silver-grey hair matted down by the streaming water.
"Guys, what about me?" I asked.
"Didn't want to wake you," Ben replied, "but come on in! Tight fit, but we can make it work."
I'd be lying if I said the shower was completely platonic, but there was no penetrative sex - neither oral nor anal. Certainly lots of caressing and fondling. Both Ben and Jeremy had me leaning against the shower wall and massaged my hole – ostensibly to clean it out but I'm pretty sure a tongue is not required for that. I didn't complain.
When we finished around 3am, we all got out and "helped" each other dry off. Who knew so much water could stay on one's ass hole and dick that they needed to be dried so much?
Since the expo didn't start again until 9am, we all went back to Ben's bed and got in. It was hard to decide who would be in the middle, but we finally agreed Ben could be.
I'm pretty sure I slept with a smile on my face that night, though I had a weird dream. I dreamed I was an overweight, balding guy in his 40s with some graphic design job I hated, sitting in a hotel room eating pizza while watching "Worst Chefs in the USA." The guy – me, apparently – was on Humpr looking at my profile and drooling a bit over it. I then realized in the dream that it was my – dream me – profile, and I was on Humpr catfishing people. The me in the dream looked over his shoulder at me – the real me, the dreamer – and I woke up gasping in a cold sweat.
I frantically felt myself all over. Scruff, big dick, smooth balls, nice pecs, and a handsome silver fox and twunk sharing the bed. Whew! Just a dream. I laid back down and turned onto my right side, putting my left arm over Ben's torso and tweaking Jeremy's tit on the other side. Jeremy moaned. Just a dream, but it felt so real and was hard to shake.
As I fell asleep again, I could've sworn I saw a set of rainbow wedges, twisting and turning from a central point, while the faintest of faces appeared within it. A thin, short, balding man, with white hair flowing off the sides of the back of his head, and a small bowler hat. The face only appeared for a brief moment, so I probably imagined it.
I sighed into my sleep-bound haze as I felt my hole throb and flex to the pace of my slowing breathing. It was ready for anything, and it would be ready for tomorrow's hookup, just like it said in my profile.
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