Le blog gay de Cavaillon et ses amis prostitués

hétéro violé : "désormais il n’avait plus besoin de m’empêcher de crier. La douleur passait peu à peu, était toujours présente, mais le plaisir la surplombait"

 mais pourquoi ? plus c'est mal vu et secret, plus c'est interdit, plus c'est trop gros et ça va faire mal plus ça attire...

il faudrait s'appeler les malgré ou les " bien que" .   

.petebrownuk: A BEAUTY, PROPERLY TRAINEDWhen Darren was first enslaved he thought he would spend the rest of his life labouring in the fields. But something about his symmetrical features and wistful expression singled him out as being somehow different from the rest of the slaves being auctioned that day, and he was instead bought by a connoisseur of the male form.Darren needed a few weeks of hard training in the gym - harder than anything he had ever done as a free man - to hone and tone his body to a state of near perfection, and he spend many hours under the sun lamps to give him a delightful pale chestnut hide.  Darren’s owner is a purveyor of slaves who provide sexual services to jaded patrons - rather than buy a succession of sex slaves, such people hire one when needed.  So the slaves need to be excellently skilled in all the arts of sex and capable of understanding what the client wants or needs, and then providing it.  Darren always thought of himself as a rather special lover and had many compliments from his girl friends before enslavement, but now he had to be trained to understand how to use his lips, tongue and fingers to raise female clients to a fever of arousal before his cock went anywhere near them (and many females do not indeed want his cock at all preferring him to bring them to orgasm without it).   Following that it became much more difficult - Darren was “, straight”, but most clients are male  and Darren needed to be lashed almost constantly before he learned to show true enjoyment of the taste of another man’s cock and of his semen, how to breathe when being throat fucked, and how to groan with supposed pleasure when being used anally.  What was particularly hard for Darren to take was being ‘skinned, as he had always enjoyed masturbating himself sliding his foreskin on and off his cock head. Not that this is anyway a problem now as he is forbidden to masturbate and must save all his semen for clients who like to see a good volume. And he knows he will now never sire kids as as the same time a vasectomy was performed to prevent any lady clients subsequently suing his owner if Darren was careless in pulling out, or in using condoms (although most clients want to use him raw).  As he lies there waiting for his next client Darren is wondering if it will be a male or female. If it is a male, will he be old and fat (most men hiring fit young men like Darren are). Or if it is a female will she insist on him being “nailed” to prevent unsightly streams of semen?  He hates that  - when the shaft of the “nail” is inserted down his urethra it hurts, as it does when afterwards the head of the “nail” that just covers the tip of his cock has to be unstuck from the superglue that holds it in place (not to mention the pain in his balls from not being able to fir properly!).  He’s rather stoical about it though - after all he understands he’s a slave, and has no choice.  He’s just a performing animal now, hired to bring a hours enjoyment to  his owner’s clients..

c'est partti de là :

 

 

«  sa queue était incroyable , » je bavais devant. Je restais bloqué sur celle-ci, si longue, bien droite, et surtout tellement épaisse entre ses cuisses légèrement poilues et bien musclées. Des cuisses de footballeur, de sportif, avec entre celles-ci une bonne paire de couilles qui pendaient bien, surement à cause de tout ce foutre qu’il devait y avoir dedans. Et puis entre les deux cette tige très veinée totalement durcie et à la verticale, surplombée par une toison pubienne brunne. Je me léchais les lèvres, je m’approchais doucement, j’allais lécher cette queue incroyable quand mon frère me bloqua d’un geste la tête et tapa sa tige épaisse sur mon visage.

 

 

http://www.cyrillo.biz/histoire-gay-2012-hetero-incestueux-4.php  PRENEZ LE TEMPS DE LIRE  

 

  Submission: Already posted it, but it’s definitely worth a repost, yum! Wonder if the guy waiting outside is the cuck 😈  incroyable

 

http://faggyblog.tumblr.com/

à mon corps défendant

joes1026: I woke up to what felt like a tickle, like a feather on my back, the feeling drawing me from sleep into consciousness.  It moved across my upper back, light, stroking, making me shift my shoulders slightly lifting to it, to the touch, to…..his fingers.  That’s what it was…. I hadn’t heard him come home the way I almost always did, didn’t hear him come into my room.  I stayed up late, half hoping but when it was past 2,  I finally turned off the light and fell asleep. I’d been with him tonight as he got ready to go out, chatting with him, hanging with him as changed into better clothes than he usually wore, not that I liked them.  To me he always looked best in jeans and a tee shirt, or nothing….but he was going on a date, first one in a longer than I could  remember and he wanted to look good. He always looked good and not just to me.  The woman he was seeing tonight……I shook my head, being jealous wasn’t cool…. He’d run his hand through my hair, too short now for him to ruffle the way he used to, grabbed his coat, gave me a wink and said “Wish me luck, kid” and headed for his truck.  I did wish him luck, even though my cock was mounding hard in my jeans.   I could tell by the light in the room it must have been about 4, with day break still an hour or more away.  His fingers traced over my back, stroking my muscles, running down the valley of my spine, so soft, so insistent, his touch raising the hairs on my body, sending the blood rushing to my cock, fat and hard under me.  I heard the bed creak as he pulled the sheets all the way off me as he put his legs on either side of mine. He leaned down to my neck, his lips pressing softly, his tongue softly licking, tasting my skin.  I could smell a trace of bourbon, the dark scent of tobacco on his breath, mixed in with the body spray he’d used tonight.  Body spray!  This guy….I shifted under him, my body responding to his touch no matter how still I tried to stay.   His hands were on either sides of my chest now, his fingers reaching under, searching for my nips, finding them hard already.  He flicked over them and I put my head into the pillow, muffling my moans.  He kept his hands hard on my body and moved them down either side, pressing, feeling, stroking as his mouth, his tongue, did the same to my back, stopping at the top of my ass. I lay there. waiting, his fingers pressing down on the softer flesh of my upper ass, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions, his legs shifting, his hairy thighs brushing on mine.  He leaned into me now, running his hands back up, brushing his chest hair on my back, his boned dick, slapping my ass cheeks, slipping in my crack, dragging slowly through the coarse hair of my trench.  He was breathing hard, low, wordless sounds coming from deep in his throat. I wanted to turn my head, to see him, to look at him, to kiss him but I knew I couldn’t.  I’d done that once before and he’d gone blank, gotten carefully out of my bed and padded away and didn’t return for weeks.  I couldn’t look, couldn’t respond, at least not that way, not yet. He dropped his hands to my ass, rough, calloused palms rubbing my cheeks, pulling and groping and feeling me, up pulling my butt cheeks apart, thumbs pressing in my crack.  He buried his nose in my trench, tongue lapping hungrily from the small of my back, lightly over my pucker to my taint.  He breathed me in, sucked and licked and got my curlies in his teeth.  His fingers worked at my hole now, rubbing, probing, pressing inside me. I still couldn’t look at him but it was impossible to stay still.  I pushed back at him, pushed my ass up on his mouth, arched my butt so he could get his fingers, and now his tongue inside me.   There was a low-throated thrum coming from him as he ate me out, lapped and licked and dug deep in my musky sweaty hole, wet now with his spit.  I bucked back on him, grunting and moaning and cursing under my breath, telling him in the only way he’d hear that I wanted it, wanted him, wanted whatever he’d give me.   I felt his cock, so hard, the head of his dick so thick, slobbering precum on my thighs, then pressed into my nuts, rubbing on my sac till I was silently begging him to take it off my nuts before he made me cum, his dick feeling enormous even though I knew he and I were almost identical like that. Now he had his boned dick pulsing, riding  hard in my crack, the sweat from my ass, his precum lubing the slick, hot ride.  I pushed up my ass, begging for it now, needing him in me The head of his dick pressed at my hole, my pucker clenching closed the way it always did, even with me pushing back at him.  I felt him grab the base of his cock push at my pucker slow, inch by inch, rough past muscled ring, making me gasp with the pain of it, biting my lips to keep from crying out.  He stopped for a second but I pushed back, riding through the pain, him pushing all his cock inside me, the head of his dick hitting my prostate, all pain gone, fucking bliss, stretching my hole open, ramming deep in my guts, the feel of his bull nuts slapping mine, the feel of his groin grinding into my butt cheeks, scratching me with his fur. He leaned in close to me, his dick pumping steady and hard inside me, his head touching mine, his breath coming fast as his cock slapped my insides, hitting hard, my cock jumping, leaking, my nuts churning with his dick banging me hard.  He brushed his lips over my ear, so low it was like a whisper, I heard him say, “My boy”. And I shot, spurted, unloaded ropes of cum under me, on the bed, hitting my belly, those words, his slamming cock driving it out of me. I pushed in hard, deep, holding his cock in me, shuddering as his seed shot deep, splashing my guts, drowning my hole with hot cum, his throbbing bone deep in me spilling every drop inside my bruised butthole. He collapsed on top of me then, his dick still in my ass, glued to each other with cum and spit and sweat, his hands reaching under me and holding me tight while I reached back, stroked his body, felt his lips on my neck, nuzzling into me.   Still silent….maybe not always….. But that’s okay. He’s my Dad, man.  He’s my Dad.

il s'est montré plus fort

petebrownuk: A BEAUTY, PROPERLY TRAINEDWhen Darren was first enslaved he thought he would spend the rest of his life labouring in the fields. But something about his symmetrical features and wistful expression singled him out as being somehow different from the rest of the slaves being auctioned that day, and he was instead bought by a connoisseur of the male form.Darren needed a few weeks of hard training in the gym - harder than anything he had ever done as a free man - to hone and tone his body to a state of near perfection, and he spend many hours under the sun lamps to give him a delightful pale chestnut hide.  Darren’s owner is a purveyor of slaves who provide sexual services to jaded patrons - rather than buy a succession of sex slaves, such people hire one when needed.  So the slaves need to be excellently skilled in all the arts of sex and capable of understanding what the client wants or needs, and then providing it.  Darren always thought of himself as a rather special lover and had many compliments from his girl friends before enslavement, but now he had to be trained to understand how to use his lips, tongue and fingers to raise female clients to a fever of arousal before his cock went anywhere near them (and many females do not indeed want his cock at all preferring him to bring them to orgasm without it).   Following that it became much more difficult - Darren was “, straight”, but most clients are male  and Darren needed to be lashed almost constantly before he learned to show true enjoyment of the taste of another man’s cock and of his semen, how to breathe when being throat fucked, and how to groan with supposed pleasure when being used anally.  What was particularly hard for Darren to take was being ‘skinned, as he had always enjoyed masturbating himself sliding his foreskin on and off his cock head. Not that this is anyway a problem now as he is forbidden to masturbate and must save all his semen for clients who like to see a good volume. And he knows he will now never sire kids as as the same time a vasectomy was performed to prevent any lady clients subsequently suing his owner if Darren was careless in pulling out, or in using condoms (although most clients want to use him raw).  As he lies there waiting for his next client Darren is wondering if it will be a male or female. If it is a male, will he be old and fat (most men hiring fit young men like Darren are). Or if it is a female will she insist on him being “nailed” to prevent unsightly streams of semen?  He hates that  - when the shaft of the “nail” is inserted down his urethra it hurts, as it does when afterwards the head of the “nail” that just covers the tip of his cock has to be unstuck from the superglue that holds it in place (not to mention the pain in his balls from not being able to fir properly!).  He’s rather stoical about it though - after all he understands he’s a slave, and has no choice.  He’s just a performing animal now, hired to bring a hours enjoyment to  his owner’s clients.

      «eh oui ! ce fut une lutte...perdue. Le pire a été de s'entendre gémir...et  allez savoir pourquoi, les seuls mots qui sortirent de ma bouche furent « j’aime ça ». Moi, Yohan, pur hétéro, du genre à sodomiser des filles et à les faire hurler, à leur donner des orgasmes, à leur jouir à la gueule, je me retrouvais avec une queue énorme dans le cul, je me retrouvais à me faire enculer comme une véritable salope ». 

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