I just ate white caste last night.. now today I've had horrible gas. i mean my stomach cramps up and I let out hot dense gas. its wreaks of white castle burgers and now im hungry again.. why cant anyway eat WC without having the horrid after affects....???? oh god here comes more gass......wqfoehfoffjasjfdkbasdjkbasdn

Hi, my name is Steven Nicklas. I am currently a university graduate student in the greatest city in the world, New York.

I am a Caucasian male of medium build, about 6 feet tall. I like hitting the gyms on Thursdays. I am openly gay and in my free time I like to hit the clubs with men.

If you have any interest in meeting me, give me a shout and we can hook up. I'll fill you in on where I usually go to hang out. wink

I can be contacted at steven.nickles@gmail.com.

Please also check out my snazzy website here: http://stevennicklas.bravehost.com/.

It took me forever to make! It's very hard this technical stuff it is!

Thanks and hope to see you there!!! Sweet dreams. ;)))))

nate1989, call me buddy ;) xxx

I don't have a picture of me now because my friend Gary is using it for his little session with Tom and Chandler atm. However, my guys consider me the hotdog of the west side and I wouldn't disagree; I am quite the sausage on Thursdays. I am a Caucasian male, 6 feet tall with beautiful ginger features and nice robust armpits. A dense 6.5 inches in the tractor department, and nice tight pillows to balance it out.

I think it is advisable to include forums dedicated to gays and lesbians that would facilitate homosexual conversation! Just my 2 nickles.

I confess- I did not have a normal first sexual experience.

I remember everything. How could I forget? I first experienced carnal pleasure, sexual curiosity, and total shame all at once.

It was the summer of 2001. I was a boy. My mother hired a sitter (Let's call her Lisa) to watch me and my younger sister for the summer. Lisa was a later-year high school student, about average height and weight. She was a redhead, and had a dense patch of freckles on both cheeks.

At the time, I was in junior high and concerned mostly about my PSX games. I remember I was working hard on my Xenogears save and did not think I had time for distractions.

Lisa sat us from the beginning of June until the end of August. This is the base of what I remember. If you want to know about the specifics, ask and I will tell you all about it.

Lisa was very friendly with us to begin with but got very touchy as time wore on. My first unusual occurrence was a day in which I swam in the pool on her suggestion. When I was done, I changed in the bathroom. I did not lock the door because I thought there was no reason to. I heard her ask through the door if I dried myself off. I said yes, absentmindedly.

Suddenly, she burst through the door. I was completely naked.

She took my towel and then spent a good 10 seconds looking at me while I covered myself. All she did was giggle, then she said something like,

"Sorry, I didn't know you were naked."

She looked at me again and then ran off.

It was only the beginning of a very sexy summer.

Ingrid, a fierce shieldmaiden of the North, sails with a Viking scouting party to raid the Saxon shores. Renowned for her axe skill and unyielding spirit, she dreams of glory and wealth.

During a foggy dawn ambush in the dense forests, Saxon warriors overwhelm the Vikings with arrows and spears. Ingrid fights valiantly, her shield splintered, felling many foes.

Separated from her kin in the chaos, she is surrounded and disarmed. Captured rather than slain, Ingrid faces chains and humiliation at Saxon hands, her fate uncertain, interrogation, slavery, ransom, or execution, as the remnants of her party flee without her.

The night iz almost tangible. The darkness around me iz like soft velvet an' muh ma fuckin senses, aroused as dey iz allow me ta raise muh ma fuckin hand an' feel da subtle changes in temperature o' da air around me. It iz hot, da tropical night heavy an' dense around me. I smoke da sheet from muh ma fuckin body an' feel da night lean forward ta kiss me.

I arch muh ma fuckin back, deeply aware o' da need burning between muh ma fuckin legs. I allow muh ma fuckin legs ta part an' da night, muh ma fuckin lovely night seems ta breath on muh ma fuckin sex. But it do not tight me. Instead, muh ma fuckin clitoris yearns ta be touched.

I peep across at her lying in da next bed. She has nahh idea, not da faintest notion o' muh ma fuckin desire. She do not know how much I love her; gots always loved her since we's wuz both 13. No. She has nahh idea o' da nights I gots masturbated wishing she wuz wiff me, nor how often I gots wanted her ta bind me an' use me as her slave.

She lies dere, her own sheet almost off her body. I can see da roundness o' her hips an' da subtle swell o' her belly an' those perfectly formed, almost pubescent titties. Claire sighs in her sleep an' da sheet moves. She iz tantlizingly close ta being naked now, an', as she sighs ag'in, I discover da hairless smoothness o' her sex. Is it uh cruel trick o' da night or merely muh ma fuckin imagination dat makes me wonder if I can smell her poon-tang on da soft eddies in da room? No matter, I know, much ta muh ma fuckin regret, dat she iz straight. But I also know dat even muh ma fuckin own dislike o' men would not prevent me tasting da benediction o' her lover'ssperm from da cathedral o' her sex if she asked me ta.

My hand traces down muh ma fuckin body an' ta da hard, demanding bud nestled in da moist folds between muh ma fuckin legs. But I mus' be careful. The small cabin we's share will not permit da wreckless abandon wiff which I usually whack mah jimmy. I whack myself. I imagine it iz Claire touching me, or even me watching her whack herself.

My middle finger dips inside me an' I arch muh ma fuckin back. Oh, how I wish it wuz her finger. My thumb begins uh seductive get jiggy wit it wiff muh ma fuckin clit ring. (Making me glad I had it done. The pain o' da piercer'sneedle brought me ta orgasm, an' it has given me so many siince) As muh ma fuckin arousal increases, da clouds part an' allow da moon ta be muh ma fuckin audience. But da blessed moon bestows an unexpected gift ta me. There, lying on da floor between our bunks iz Claire'sknickers. I reach out an' collect muh ma fuckin prize.

Immediately dey iz in muh ma fuckin hand I feel da bud o' muh ma fuckin arousal begin ta open into da rich blossom o' orgasm. I bring her ta muh ma fuckin face an' inhale just once 'bfoe placing da very tip o' muh ma fuckin tongue where her sex nestled.

The orgasm washes me. It cleanses me wiff every contraction an' I feel da familiar wetness spray onto muh ma fuckin thighs.

Across from me, da object o' muh ma fuckin love rolls over wiff her back ta me. As she do so,her peeps open an' afta feigning sleep fo' so long, she smiles. you know das right!

Anybody have any good stories about hot encounters on a Greyhound (or other cross country type) bus? The following story is inspired by real events. I will disclose how much of this is true and what actually happened at a later date, but for now I will leave it up to your imaginations.

When I got on the bus in Albuquerque, I had already been travelling for a few days and was weary and tired. It was about midnight when we boarded and all I wanted to do was stow my carry on stuff, find a seat, and go to sleep. Since the bus was already mostly full, there would no chance of finding a row of two empty seats, so I resigned myself to just looking for an empty one on the aisle. My habit is to go to the back of the bus and I figured there would be overhead space toward the back as well, so I headed back there now. I managed to find space to put all my crap together and there was an empty aisle seat directly across from it. A lot of times people will put things in the empty seat to discourage people from sitting there, but there was nothing. And also many times larger people will 'spill' over into the empty seat (not judging but Americans r fat, lol), and this will naturally discourage you from sitting in a given seat. Neither was the case here though, and I glanced up the person in the window seat just long enough to notice that she was no older than 15 or 16, had averagely long, wavy brown hair, and most importantly that she was definitely watching me as I took the seat next to her. At first I took this as apprehension, but just as I was sitting down, her wide eyes and ever slight smile on her face, told me something else. I was way too tired to have conscientiously picked the seat just because there was a cute girl sitting there, but after a minute or two of sitting down, I thought that maybe she could have been slightly excited on her part about me sitting there. Later I would have to conclude that this was indeed the case!

Not long after settling into my seat, the lights in the bus went off and we started to back out of the parking space. Soon after that we were on the highway. I had quickly put the little flirtation or whatever out of my mind, but after ten minutes or so of relaxing in my seat in the darkness, my thoughts naturally turned back to it. Now I remembered that there had been empty seats in the row in front of and behind where the girl was sitting (we were in the second to last row on the left side of the bus). Maybe she thought I had purposely picked her row instead of the others and this was the reason for the nervousness or excitement on her part. Honestly though, even as she was pretty cute, I was just way too tired to even think about chatting or maybe flirting with her, so I focused on getting comfy in my seat and drifting off to sleep, lulled by the hum of the engine and the gentle pitching and swaying of the bus.

Probably not even an hour after falling asleep, I was awoken by slight pressure and warmness in the general area of my left thigh. Since I hadn't been dead asleep and wasn't totally out of it, I concluded it had to my seat companion and glanced over in her direction. As it's pretty much pitch darkness on the bus at night, I couldn't see all that much, but I did make out the vague outline of her legs against the relative lightness of the window. She had turned away from me with her knees curled up toward her in a semi fetal position. By my quick calculations, that meant that it had to be her butt pressing up against my leg. I just figured, though, that she was trying to get comfortable and didn't think much of it. That's not to say I minded the sensation at all! I wasn't about to move away, but I also didn't want to move more into her, so I just stayed put. After a minute or so, she started moving her butt a little more into me and then relaxing again. I really just thought she was trying to sleep and get into a more comfy position. After a few times of this, she pulled away and I thought it was the end of it. But then I heard in a whispered but clear voice, "Do you have enough room over there?" I quickly said, "Oh I'm fine, lots of room." Then I added, "Well, okay, maybe not lots of room, but enough I guess. Don't worry about me, just try to make yourself comfortable." Immediately I though, oh my god, did that sound pervy? Then she said "Yeah, I'm trying" and laughed a little. And added, "Just let me know if I'm bothering you." I said "okay" and then she turned back away from me. Her butt was again pressing up against my upper thigh and I was very happy! She made a few sighs like she finally getting comfortable and I thought okay she'll drift off to sleep and that will be the end of it. Not even five minutes went by, when I felt her pull away again, I sensed her turning around toward me and she said in the same whispered, but more confident, voice, "Do you want to spoon? It might be easier that way and might give u more room." I was at least a little shocked by this question but quickly came back with "Alright. You might be right." So now, finally, I thought something might be up with this girl! Yep, guys are dense a lot of the times, lol. I still had to be very careful though. So basically I just turned the same way she was turned, but tried to stay within my seat. We were barely touching at this point, but I wasn't about to smoosh up against her. Nothing really happened for a few minutes and I figured she got shy and thought twice about she had said before. But then she goes, "You sure u have enough room?" I try my best to feign chasteness and reply, "Oh sure. I'm good." She's still turned toward me, presumably looking at me and says, "You know, I won't bite." And even though I can't really see her face, I could hear a smile in her voice when she said that. "Well that's good to know" I say and we both laughed quietly. So I move slightly forward to where she's positioned and she proceeds to work her butt firmly against my lap and my still soft (at this point) cock. I'm still not sure about this girl at this point and I really think that she just likes to spoon and this is the end of it. Once we are in a full spoon and very much pressed up against one another, she squirms a little bit, but nothing major. Again, I just think she's trying to get comfortable and pass it off as nothing more than that. But even though she's not moving much, it's enough and directed well enough into my lap, that my cock is stiffening slowly. Now I think I'm crazy, because the stiffer my cock gets, the more she starts squirming. Fifteen or twenty minutes of this go by and I'm feeling very good and just enjoying everything when she turns around to me and whispers in a deeper voice this time, "That feels REALLY good." I can't think of anything to say really, so I just laugh nervously a little bit. Then she asks if it feels good to me too. All I can get out is "yeah" before her hand is back behind her and she's rubbing my cock over my jeans. I should mention that my Levis at this point have seen WAY to many wash cycles at that point and they're pretty threadbare, so I can feel everything! She's not only rubbing, but sort of grabbing my cock and balls too and sliding her hand up and down my shaft. As she's doing this, my right hand naturally goes to her hip and I gradually slide it up her side, under her jacket but over her shirt. I really want to return the favor she's giving my cock by rubbing her tits, but I'm a little hesitant before I jump in. And before I get there, I just come out and ask "Can I rub your tits?" She comes back with, "Oh my god, yes" in a breathy and eager whisper. I start slowly rubbing one tit then the other with just my right hand. She backs off slightly with rubbing me and really seems to like getting her tits worked over. And the more I rubbed, the harder and faster her breaths came, and the more excited this made me. Not too long after this, I whispered right in her ear, "I think I'm gonna cum." To that she says "Wait." She proceeds to turn toward me now and leans over to me and says "PUll it out." I face forward in my seat, slide down pretty low, unzip as quitely as I can and pull out my hard cock. She works her hands right to it and after a few pumps, I'm all done! She gently sucks the tip dry, gives it a few licks and I zip up.

Conclusion to follow. What do u all think so far?

I want to fuck my mother-in-law. There isn't really a reason for this, since she's fifty years old, isn't all that attractive, and is kind of a bitch. I just want something different. I've been fucking the same woman, my wife, for over nine years, and it's pretty boring. The mother-in-law lives in our house, so she's accessible. She hasn't had sex with a man in probably over two years.

Problem is, she's something of a prude. I've dropped some hints about this to her, but either she's dense or is ignoring them. I bought her a dildo for her birthday back in April, then I took her to a porn shop to get a few movies to go with her new "boyfriend". I can count on both hands the number of times she's used it though, and she hasn't used it at all in the last three months or so.

Oh, that's the other part of my confession. I spy on her every night. Mostly with a mirror under her bedroom door. I've watched her masturbate with the dildo all but one of the times she's used it, and that was because she did it early in the day while I was asleep. She likes the door closed and near total dark in her room when she goes to bed, and she's a little hard of hearing, so I'm able to sneak in (sometimes while she's still awake) and watch her. I watched her masturbate by hand recently, laying on her bed, while I stood not four feet away, jerking off over her, and she didn't have a clue. Last night she rubbed one out with the door open, but the curtains open, so it was bright in there. I had to hide in the hall. She didn't see me. I touch her when I can, but she's pretty sensitive, and she moves around a lot, so that doesn't always work out.

So, any suggestions on how to convince a 50-year-old woman who was sexually repressed most of her life to have sex with me?

PS I will not post a picture of her or myself, for two reasons. One, neither of us are good-looking, and two, it would be pretty simple for even a half-ass internet detective to find out who we are.

I yearn for . . . no, I CRAVE the experiences that were had in times long past. Experiences and encounters in locations and venues that were almost always dark, often dingy and always redolent with the smell of sweat, sperm and sleaze . . . with some even having the intoxicating overtone of stale piss.
Those venues might be public toilets – often in parks and always late in the night – or bookshop backrooms – especially those with labyrinthine corridors made built from ply, painted black and featuring small booth-like rooms with vinyl mattresses on the floor or rough-hewn holes carved in walls at the height that a cock may be inserted. Dark warrens lit only by red light so weak you could hardly make out the bodies lurking ominously around the corners, waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting for you to walk past very slowly. No words were spoken. No permission sought. Fluids exchanged. When you’d slaked your thirst, you’d leave . . . and, by the time you got to your car – often parked a few blocks away, lest somebody recognise it and tie you to this place – you’d already be thinking that you could easily go back in for another encounter . . . or two . . . or three . . .
Or the location might be a grove of trees or dense shrubs in a park, or on a headland where families picnicked in the day as they admired the view and dreamed that one day they might have their house in such a place . . . indeed YOU might visit this same place the next day with your family and have in the front of your mind other, more prurient thought than your cousins, brothers, sisters . . . yes, and even wives . . . who lay on grass where you know sperm was spilled just the night before. “Come!” you say, beckoning them. “Come with me, let me show you something!” and you entice them through the well-trod tracks to the wind-swept cliff where, not 12 hours before, you emptied your guts into a stranger’s bowels.
And still at other times, the venue might be a sad, old cinema long past its prime, showing a never-ending stream of grainy 8mm porn. The cracked and torn leather of the seats sticking to your bare arse as you thrust your oh-so-very-strong erection upward toward the beckoning hand of the stranger alongside whom you have sat. His jeans rolled up around his ankles – just as yours are. His cock beckoning in the gloom as the gritty and grainy porn flickers on the screen. Both of you sit side-by-side, eyes affixed to the screen, but yet darting the left or right to catch a glimpse of his cock and marvel how it gleams and you wonder how it might taste . . . you reach toward it, his hips thrust upward giving you permission (not that you doubted it would be given) as he sucks in his breath when your fingers enclose the silken, soft skin around the bone-hard shaft that twitches and throbs under the touch of your hand. The skin feels softer, silkier, smoother than yours and you reflect on why it always does. You wonder if yours feel softer, silkier and smoother to all of those who have reached out as you are . . . but soon such thoughts are driven away as other, more compelling and irresistible thoughts erupt behind your eyes and you find yourself leaning over and wondering if (perhaps even hoping that) he will vomit his cock-snot into your mouth.
The best part of this rundown old cinema is the toilet. You head toward the green sign beside the screen, through a concrete-rendered tunnel for a few metres and into a room with a concrete piss-trough and a cubicle or two. There are no doors – at least not any more. There is no ventilation and the stench is overpowering, but you came here for this . . . you crave it . . . you live for it. In the piss-trough are countless fag-ends soaked with the rank, stale piss of dozens of others like you. There is a chain on the old concrete cistern that could flush, but you doubt that chain has been pulled for weeks – or even months. There is a very sad old faggot lying in the trough scooping the butts over his cock and into his mouth. He is, of course, naked and his floppy old cock no longer able to get hard. The skirt he wore lies beneath him but he still has his red stilettos on and he whimpers and begs you to use him as a toilet. You oblige, of course. Why wouldn’t you? And, as you relieve yourself into his pathetic, simpering, ugly face you wonder how long it is going to take until it is you that begs and pleads for exactly what this disgusting old faggot is begging for.
Why are all such places now closed? What has changed that makes them no longer viable businesses? I have tried, over the years, to encourage similar events in my home (post-divorce, sadly), but the atmosphere, the spontaneity, the rank, foul sleaze just cannot be recreated in a garage . . . and anyway, the amount of time spent advertising it, answering stupid questions of people who have no right to ask and sheer effort of preparing the space are simply not warranted for the one or two who do actually arrive.
And so now I yearn . . . no, I CRAVE the experiences I had back then and know that, if I could, I WOULD be that sad old faggot lying in the stench of the cold concrete piss-trough whimpering and simpering for all to use me as little more than what I have become.
“Take your photos!” I would implore. “Piss, Spit, Snot into my open mouth!” I would entreat. “Blow your cock snot deep into my faggot arse!” I would beseech. “No load refused . . . I don’t care!” I would growl in deep, guttural tones that echo the true state of my mind.

Just dropped my wife off at the airport. home alone for tonight at least and ive never wanted to find a fat cock to play with more than right now. i just wanna compare my small pathetic cock to a long dense fat cock and see just how unlucky i am in life in having such a tiny pathetic dick