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OFFER UP THAT ASS By Randy Rawman
It's nine thirty in the morning on the Friday leading into Memorial Day weekend and I'm in about the last place I expected to be this morning; lying in a sling, my legs pointed to Jesus with a hot Russian-born man I met all of 17 minutes ago long-dicking me raw with his 9-inch uncut fuckmeat. I look up at the wooden slats in the garage roof and wonder how many other fuckboys have looked up at them before from this same position.
"You like that, fucker?" the man rawdogging me asks.
"Fuckin' love it, don't stop," I say, even though I have a conference call for work in 15 minutes.
"Then fucking open up for me!"
"Tryin," I insist. "I didn't get fucked much during the pandemic."
"We'll have to work on that," he says with a grin then pounds away even harder.
++++
I met this guy through an app, which is how a lot seed-swappers connect these days. But it wasn't a hook up app, like Grindr or Scruff. No, I owe interior whitewash I'm minutes away from getting to get to the app Offer Up.
It started innocently enough.
+++++
My neighborhood cross fit box didn't survive the pandemic and instead of running out a finding another one or joining an overpriced gym, I thought I'd try to improve the home gym set-up in my garage. I log onto Offer Up, which is like a garage sale in your phone--to see if anyone near me is selling any gym equipment.
I find a set of three used kettle bells being sold by someone named Vitaly45 who lives about 20 minutes away. I make an offer. He accepts. I have just enough time to pick them up and get back home before my conference call for work.
It's chilly out so I throw on a shiny black down Moncler puffer vest over a black long-sleeved Underarmour compression shirt, and a pair of royal blue three-stripe Adidas tights and head out.
Vitaly45's house is your basic suburban tract house. He advised me by text to "park across the street in front of the church" because his side has street cleaning today and he wouldn't want me to get a ticket for a five minute stop. Thoughtful.
I pull up in front of the church and text, "Here."
"Come around back to garage," he texts back.
I walk around to the side of the house, round the corner and the first thing I see inside the garage is the sweaty, rippling back of a olive-skinned man doing chin ups from a bar hanging from the ceiling. I watch as he knocks out rep after rep. He's got the V shape of a Men's Fitness model but he's a bit thick, too, like a man with a healthy appetite. His legs are like tree trunks, hanging down below a sweat-soaked pair army green silkies. He grunts out the rest of his reps and then drops to the floor.
"Hey," I say.
"Oh hey," he says.
"I'm here for the--" he turns around and the front of him is so fucking hot, the word `kettlebells' flies right out of head, "the, um, things...that you swing..."
He smiles like someone who's used to driving people to distraction. "I think the word you're looking for is kettlebells."
"Right, yes," I say.
"They're right over here."
He leads me to the corner where a three gunmetal gray kettle bells--a 35 pounder, a 25 pounder and a 15 pounder--sit in a row on the ground. They've clearly gotten a lot of use.
"These are perfect," I say. "Why are you getting rid of them?"
"I have another set and uh, those belonged to someone who isn't in my life anymore."
Interesting. "Got it. Can I Venmo you?"
"Sure," he says.
I find his Venmo account, enter the amount, type `Kettlebells' then add an emoji of two cartoon men lifting together. Then, just before I hit send, something compels me to type #BBBH, the Bareback Brotherhood hashtag. He probably won't see it until later, anyway.
"Can I help you load `em into your car?" he asks.
"Sure," I say. Just hearing him say the word load makes my rod twitch in my tights.
He picks up the 35 and 25 and I pick up the 15. He follows me out the gate, across the street to my SUV. I open in the back of the cluttered hatchback.
"Excuse the mess," I remark.
I go to move my gym bag to make room for the weights. A small bottle flies out of the side pocket and skitters across the pavement. My new poppers. Vitaly lifts the toe of his shoe and stops it. Then he picks the bottle up and smiles at me.
"Don't want to let those get away. You never know when you're gonna need them."
"Well, that was embarrassing," I say reaching out to take the bottle. But he doesn't let it go. He just smiles at me...devilishly.
"Like who knows? You might be needing them in just a few minutes," he says, holding my stare.
My heart starts to race. And then I start to laugh. Hard. Out of nervous embarrassment. I can't help it.
"What's so funny, popper boy?" he asks, confused.
"It's just um...I got out of a monogamous relationship a few months ago and the main reason I'm looking to step up my fitness is because, well, I want to have a slutty summer."
"So what does that mean, specifically, that you want to have sex with lots of guys?"
"How are you so sure it's guys?"
"Bitch, please," he says.
And then I'm laughing again.
"So yeah, I want to have sex with more guys. I came of age in the 90's...and I was pretty freaked out about sex and a missed out a lot. Now I want to make up for lost time."
"Does that mean like multiple hookups a day?"
"Sure," I say.
"Or maybe multiple guys at once?
"Sure."
"I think that's a worthy pursuit. Do you take loads?"
The way he says that, as casually as if were asking if I'd like a cup of coffee, makes my hole twitch.
"Because that's where everyone is right now. Everyone hot, anyway. A slutty summer where you don't take loads isn't really a slutty summer at all, is it?
The only person I've ever cum inside and whose ever cum inside me is my ex. But breeding is all I think about, all I want to see in porn, all I want to do now. I look Vitaly in the eye and say--
"Yes, I take loads. Give them, too. What's the point if you're not gonna swap cum?"
"Morning, Father Vincenzo," says Vitaly, looking over my shoulder.
Oh shit, who is he talking to? I turn around to see a Catholic priest, with the white collar and whole bit. He looks like Stanley Tucci circa The Devil Wears Prada. He waves to my kettlebell buddy.
"Morning, Vitaly," the priest says.
I wait for the priest to disappear into the church then lean in and whisper.
"Do you think Father McHot-ass heard what we were saying," I ask, "about taking and giving loads?"
"Don't know," says Vitaly. "Maybe you bring that up to him at your next confession."
I smile and get momentarily lost in Vitaly's brown bedroom eyes, then I hear a notification ding on my phone.
"Look, I have to be on a conference call in 15 minutes. I better get going."
"Going?" he says. "No. Is it audio or video?"
"What does it matter?" I ask.
"Because if it's just audio," he says, stepping closer and pulling the drawstring on my tights toward him, "you can be on your unimportant call, while I focus on what's really important; eating, fucking and breeding your hole. Video would make that trickier though not impossible."
I stare at him dumbfounded, not sure what to do. My cock and hole are not conflicted, however. The former is rock-hard and the latter is hungry and twitching.
"Look," he says, with a wicked grin. "Do you really want to make up for lost time or was that just talk?"
I think back to the goal I made for myself just last night: quit fantasizing and start fucking. And the most central component of the new leaf I want to turn over is cum. Jizz. Sperm. Semen. Giving it and taking it. The exchange of seed. And here is a smoking hot barebacker offering to start me off with a fresh batch of stranger spunk.
I look down at my phone. The conference call is in 13 minutes.
"Let's go," I say to Vitaly.
++++
And now it's 10 minutes later and I'm getting rawdogged by Vitaly in a sling that hangs from the same bar in his garage he was doing pull-ups on when I arrived. It took him two minutes to hang it during which time, I got naked...two more minutes to eat my hole open. Then he pulled his cuntflooder out of the leg of his silkies and now he's been inside me about five minutes, try to get my hungry but a-bit- out-of-practice fuckhole to let him all the way in.
"Dude, if you want my load, you're going to have to open up for me," he grunts.
"I'm trying, fucker," I admit. "But your dick is fucking huge."
"Then maybe deep down you don't want my cum inside you," he taunts.
"It's fucking all I want!" I bark. "I gotta have your cum."
"Where are those poppers?" he asks.
I crane my head to the pile of clothes I left on a bench; all the shiny, tight sports gear that's always turned me on.
"They should be in the pocket of the puffer vest," I grunt.
Vitaly pushes the sling away so I slide off his dick, then steps over to get the poppers. He brings me the poppers and the vest.
"Here, put this back on. I have a fetish for hot guys in shiny gear."
This morning just keeps getting better and better. "Fuck yeah, man. Me, too."
I lean up and slip the vest over my naked torso. The nylon feels so silky and smooth on my skin. I lean back into the sling and open up the poppers.
"You ready, stud?' I ask.
"Fuck yeah," says Vitaly. "Take a big hit and I'll go balls deep in one stroke."
I inhale. The poppers work their magic and the next thing I know, Vitaly is inside me to the hilt.
"Fuck, I feel so fucking full," I say.
Vitaly starts to thrust....never coming quite all the way out. The sling rocks back and forth. I roll my head back and see Vitaly's back yard with its tall hedge. We left the garage door open for the breeze. Vitaly assures me it's pretty private back here but who knows? The entire neighborhood could be watching and listening to this man I just met bareback me.
"Damn, I can already feel my nuts starting to churn, fucker," Vitaly says.
"How many days?" I ask.
"Dude, you are so in luck," he says. "My mother was in town visiting. She ran me ragged so I didn't have time to jack off let alone, fuck any hole. I literally dropped her off at the airport two hours ago."
"So?"
"Six days worth," he says. "I shoot pretty huge anyway...so your hole's getting fucking deluged."
"Will we need to call FEMA?"
"Possibly," he says. Then he reaches into the pocket of my Moncler vest and hands me my cell phone.
"Don't you have a conference call in about a minute?" he asks.
"Hold on. You're suggesting I go on it while I'm getting barebacked in your sling?"
"No, stupid," he says. "The sling's too noisy. We can fuck on the mat during your call."
He pulls out of me with a plop.
"Damn, I feel so empty now," I say.
"Not for long," he says, pulling me up.
I plop down on the mat and lay on my back.
"No, all fours," he says. "Doggie."
I get on all fours and arch my back. I feel his cockhead breach my pucker. "Poppers," he says.
I take a hit of poppers and then bam...he's back inside to the hilt. I close my eyes in ecstasy and when I open them, I notice he's positioned us in front of a full-length mirror. I can watch my body shudder while Vitaly fucks me. I can see his glorious torso heave and sweat and his handsome face contort in pleasure.
He hands me my phone.
"Conference call, pigboy," he says. "We don't want your Slutty Summer starting off with you getting fired."
"Well, slow your strokes then," I plead. "I can barely speak with you thrusting like that."
He changes his pace to a very slow and measured long strokes, innnnnn and outtttttt, innnnnn and ouuuuuuuuttt. Fuck, his cockhead is hitting all my spots. I'm leaking precum like a faucet all over the mat.
I hold my phone up for face recognition. It doesn't recognize me with my face contorted in ecstasy. I enter my six-digit code. Then I scroll to the email with the conference code link and click into the meeting. Vitaly smiles like a devil in the mirror as I awkwardly announce myself to the meeting room.
I'm not the last to arrive. Good. My immediate superior is. Also good.
For the next twenty minutes, I listen and occasionally speak as my company conducts its usual business, all the while Vitaly is sliding in and out inside me, then periodically pulling out to feast on my hole. What's happening on the call couldn't be more boring...while what's happening in my hole is pure bliss.
When a question is raised on the call related to my specific area, my supervisor asks me to expound a bit. I close my eyes and try to focus on forming words and sentences...and not on the gorgeous hunk of man raw-fucking me at 9:45 on a Friday morning.
"So in my experience..." I start into my spiel, pulling facts and figures out of my ass. Not literally, of course. My ass is otherwise engaged. After about two minutes of non-stop monologue-ing, Vitaly smacks my ass playfully and I totally lose my train of thought.
"You still there?" a co-worker asks.
"Yes, sorry. Just lost the connection for a second."
Then Vitaly goes from eating me back to fucking me and suddenly all is right with the world.
"...so that's what I think the company's position should be but if you all have other opinions, I'm wide open..."
I wink in the mirror as I say that...wanting Vitaly will pick up on the double meaning . Yep, I'm wide open all right...more open than I've ever been. And with a guy I just met a few minutes ago. As my supervisor starts into one of his supposedly motivational speeches, I close my eyes and savor the fuck.
When I open them a few fuck-eat-fuck rounds later, I gasp out loud. The man gently fucking me in the mirror is not Vitaly. Vitaly is behind the man, kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. No, the man fucking me is Father Vincenzo from across the street. He still has is collar on. In fact, he's totally dressed, with his glistening cock--a bit fatter that Vitaly's but not as long--sticking out of the fly of his slacks.
I look to Vitaly and give him a look like You're seriously whoring me out now? Vitaly walks to the corner of the garage and picks up the small white dry erase board he uses to track his sets and reps with. He grabs a black marker, scrawls something and holds it up to me. The letters are backwards in the mirror. I can't make it out so he walks around in front of me while Father Vincenzo keeps up his slow strokes in my hole.
His dick is right in my face. He replaces it with the board.
"Slutty summer? Y or N?" it says.
While I listen to my boss drone on, I grab the board from Vitaly and write my own message while his hard cock hovers inches from my face.
"Fucking breed me," I write.
Vitaly takes the pen and writes below my message.
"Already did once..." My eyes go wide. You fucking bred me? I mouth to him. He nods yes, then writes, "One load..." on the board, then adds in all caps: "SO FAR."
Boy, he didn't let on at all. It must have been one of those stealth breedings fuckers do when the bottom says he doesn't want to take the load. The difference in this case is I definitely wanted the load. It's just that my work obligations kept me from audibly begging for it.
I move the phone away and whisper to Vitaly, "Didn't even feel it. Must not have been that big."
Vitaly shakes his head then walks around behind me, gently moves Father Vincenzo out of the way and starts eating my freshly bred hole. I relax so that if there is a load in there, it'll ooze out. I definitely feel wetness...but I figured it was just lube and pre-cum.
After a minute or so of eating me out, Vitaly and Vincenzo come together in front of me and drop to their knees. Though I'm still supposed to be engaged in a work call, I watch riveted as these two red-hot fuck-studs start to open mouth kiss. Soon, there it is...a huge white chunk of jizz escaping from Vitaly's mouth onto Vincenzo's tongue.
More continues to ooze out, dripping out of the corner of Vitaly's mouth like beads on a chandelier. Vincenzo catches as much of it as he can and then the two studs snowball it back and forth. Vitaly's about to swallow the biggest chunk but he doesn't. Instead, he coats his index finger with it and coats my lips with it, like it's some kind of healing balm, which in a way it is. He drags a finger up to my mustache so that the smell of his manseed will be with me the rest of the day.
Finally, my supervisor brings the call to a close with a friendly "Have a great holiday weekend everyone," and we all sign off.
I toss the phone onto the mat.
"Oh fuck, man. That was torture," I say.
"I don't know," Vitaly says with a laugh. "I thought it was pretty fun. What did you think, Marco?"
Father Vincenzo's first name must be Marco. Hot.
"It was fun...and I definitely could have bred you a few times...but I tend to cum pretty loud when I'm breeding so I held off."
"My co-workers thank you," I say.
"But now that's done and it's time to dick you down proper," says Vitaly.
He slides his fuckstick back inside me with one stroke while Father Vincenzo walks around and shoves his fat cock down my throat. I can taste Vitaly's first load on the dick in my mouth. I groan around Marco's leaking log as Vitaly starts to pick up speed. His bull balls are slapping my ass and the sound echoes through the garage.
"You ready to get bred?" he barks. "Again?"
I pull my mouth of Marco's dick.
"No man, I want you to fuck me longer," I plead.
"I'll try," he says and then a few fuck strokes later, he reneges. "Aw fuck, I can't hold off! Your ass is too hot and wet. I gotta go for my breed."
"Then do it, stud! Fucking flood my hungry hole!"
"Here it comes, bro. Milk me! I want you to feel every drop go inside you!"
"Do it! Breed me! Breed my fucking hole!"
"UUUUUUNNNNNNNNGHHH! UNNNNNGH! UNNNNNNGH!"
This time, I feel it; rope after rope after rope of Vitaly's studcum jet into my spasming asshole. He made sure his first load was undetectable--so to speak--but this one feels like a fire extinguisher going off inside me. I welcome every single sperm cell into my writhing, sweaty, nylon-clad body.
After Vitaly and I catch our breath, Marco, who is now naked, stands behind Vitaly and caresses his heaving pecs.
"Pull out slowly so no cum comes out," Marco says. "I want to get him back in the sling to eat out your load before I breed him with mine."
"How many days worth?" Vitaly wonders.
"Five," he says.
"Hear that, stud? Our man of the cloth here has a five-day load for your hole. I guess he's pretty busy saving sinners and stuff so it builds up."
I smile up at Father Vincenzo and say, "Seed me father for I have sinned."
That gets a laugh out of all of us.
I try to rise from the mat and get weak-kneed from the pile-driving I've been taking. Vitaly catches me in his arms, then literally hoists me up so I'm straddling him.
"Keep that pucker tight," Marco barks. In this position, it would be so easy to just open up and cause a flash flood on the mat. Instead I contract my hole. Vitaly plops me in the sling. While Father Vincenzo eyes my fuckhole and strokes his throbbing cock, Vitaly places my right foot in a stirrup, then the left. Then he grabs Vincenzo by the cock and guides him to my hole.
"Not yet," Vincenzo says. "I want to felch out your load."
And that he does...for about five minutes, which Vitaly decides to catch on video. Oh fuck, is he getting my face? At this point, I don't fucking care.
After his felch-fest, Father Vincenzo stands up and rams his cock into my hot wet hole.
"Ah fuck," I groan. "Your dick is so thick. It feels so fucking good."
Vitaly goes to stand behind Vincenzo. He whispers in his ear as he fucks, getting up to speed with my story.
"Randy isn't a very seasoned seedswapper," he explains, "but he wants to be...desperately. He doesn't want a single day to go by without give or receiving a butt-breeding. It's that right, Randy?"
"Every day?" I say. "That seems like a lot. I get busy."
"It sounds like you need to readjust your priorities," Vitaly says.
"Ak, fuck," gasps Marco. "I'm getting close."
"Pull out!" Vitaly demands, pulling Vincenzo back by his shoulders. His cock is red, raging and drooling cocksnot all over the mat.
"Randy, if you want my buddy Marco's load, you need to spell out right here and right now exactly what kind of slutty summer you want to have."
"Okay," I gasp.
"Do you want to go to bathhouses, right?"
"Fuck yes!" I proclaim.
"And sex parties?"
"Yes."
"You're gonna be on Breeding Zone and Bareback RT every day, cruising for cock, cum and hole?"
"Yes!"
"And you're gonna let me text you with assignments that you have to complete? Slut School is in session, fucker, and you'll do anything to please your teacher, right?"
"Fuck yes," I gasp. "Just someone fill my guts with more cum!"
Father Vincenzo slides back in but Vitaly pushes right up behind him so he can't thrust.
"Make him beg," Vitaly whispers in Marco's ear.
"Beg for it!" Vincenzo pants, like a man in a trance. "Beg for my fucking spunk."
"Give me your seed, father. Add to the monster loads that are already in there. Breed me!"
The growling starts deep in Vincenzo's throat.
"GRRRRRRRRRR."
Then erupts in a series of loud groans. "AAAAGH! AAAGH! AAAGH! Ah, fuck, I'm cumming. I'm flooding your cunt! Take it, pig! Aw, shit, it's still coming!"
"I want it all!" I plead. "Keep seeding me! Paint my guts!
"AAAAGH! AAAGH! AAAGH! AAAAghhhhhhhhhhh!"
Just then, without me even touching it, my own cock starts to erupt its cocksnot all over my puffer vest and abs. Vitaly dives gets my cockhead in his mouth in time to taste the last two spurts.
"Awwwww fuuuuucccckkkk!" I groan, shuddering.
As I come down, Vitaly nurses my cockhead slurping up every drop of cum. Vincenzo churns his load for a bit, then snakes out and dives down to my hole to check his work with his lips and tongue. He sucks on my pucker and pokes his tongue into my hole over and over.
"Give me back that seed," he says.
Not having a very seasoned cumtunnel, I'm not sure what muscles to try and relax. Instead. I just visualize the loads sliding out of me and sure enough, it works. I hear Vincenzo groan with pleasure as he felches me out. When he pulls back and stands up, I can see my cummed-up fuckhole in the mirror, all wet and juicy and raw.
"Grab my phone, Vitaly," I say. "I need a shot of my wrecked hole."
Vitaly snaps a few shots of my happy cumhole. Click. Click. Click.
"Hashtag hole goals," he quips. "I'm getting some shots of your stomach too because that shiny vest looks so hot with your jizz all over it."
Click. Click. Click.
++++
A few minutes later, all three of us are dressed again. I'm wearing the cummed-up Moncler vest on top with no shirt underneath. We let Vincenzo walk back out on his own first, so as not to raise any eyebrows. "Later brothers," he says before walking back to plan that Sunday's mass. Then Vitaly and I walk back at my car. I have a swagger now that I didn't have before. This could truly be the beginning of a major transformation, especially if Vitaly is as into monitoring my slut progression as he seems.
"I feel like I got a really good deal on these kettle bells," I say.
"You think so, huh?" Vitaly says.
"Oh yeah. I'll definitely give you a high rating on the Offer Up app."
Vitaly pulls something from behind his back that I didn't realize he was carrying.
"Here's a little bonus item."
He hands me the white board.
He pulls out his phone, stands next to me and before I have time to think about anything, snaps a selfie of the two of us holding the board which still has "FUCKING BREED ME!" written on it in my handwriting and "ALREADY DID ONCE" in Vitaly's below it.
Then he hands me his phone.
"Type in your number and I'll text you that pic," he instructs. "And the other clips I shot, too. Don't worry, I won't share or post anywhere, unless you decide that should be part of your slutty summer project."
"I would appreciate that," I say.
"Look," he says. "I think you're really hot and fun and I'm really turned on by the idea of being like your...I don't know what the term would be...
"Fuck Coach," I offer.
"I like that," he says, then puts his hand under my nylon vest and caresses by chest and stomach. "I'm serious about it if you are."
I feel my breath catch in my throat. I just nod. Yes.
Vitaly grabs a towel from my hatchback and wipes the whiteboard clean. Then he uncaps the marker he brought and draws a line straight down the middle of the board. He writes LT on side and LG on the other, then he makes three small hashmarks under the LT. "LT is for Loads Taken. LG is for Loads Given. Right now it's at zero. We're not counting the one you shot because it didn't go inside another pig...but it does look awfully sexy splattered all over that vest."
He pinches a glob of seed off the nylon and sucks it off his fingers.
"I want this board filled up by Labor Day," he says. "What do you say to that?"
I say, "Yes, Fuck Coach."