Welcome back fuckers. This week it’s all about the CUM! I myself, am an unashamed, total cum hungry whore and wish to share with you some of the lengths I will go to get my fix. For some of us, this substance is the holy grail of piggery. It is what brings us to life. It’s smell causes a primal, feral psychological response which is better than any poppers I have ever encountered. Its taste triggers an insatiable greed for more. The feel of it flooding me from the inside; well lets just say, getting my hole loaded works better than any Viagra, Kamagra, Cialis, Chinese Emperor capsules or any other chemical male enhancement assistance. Knowing that another mans DNA is filling me up from the insides; feeling that warmth; that shudder; that wetness trickling back out makes my own cock grow as hard as granite!
But hold on a minute, there has been a travesty occurring in recent times. There is a tragic irony sweeping the western queer nation! There is a cum shortage.
“Why haven’t I heard about this?”
“Did he just say CUM SHORTAGE?”
I can hear you all right now and the saddest thing is that many of you have already encountered this drought. Many of you know all too well what I am going to talk about. We have entered an era in gay party evolution where the party itself has overshadowed our internal hunger for that precious, delicious man commodity.
We hook up in bars, online, on the apps to play together.
We get high together.
We take pills to get hard together.
We fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck together.
But the cum rarely comes. The drugs get us horny. The drugs make us crazy horny! But can we cum? Can we fuck! I have been to more parties than I care to remember and have seen a steady increase in uncontrollable horniness and reckless behaviour (OINK) and an inversely proportionate decrease in the amount of man juice being deposited in such gatherings. It is a cruel irony but non the less, us cum junkies have had to adapt!
Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not saying the only time I get my rocks off these days is in a room full of drug fucked Marys. I do like to vary my fun, but my quest for cum has, shall we say, become more imaginative.
I have a new name which I call saunas and bath-houses: The Sperm Bank! Where else can you find dozens of “Married, straight, sexually frustrated” men just gagging to dump their load somewhere more interesting than the old ladies squashed hedgehog? The only downside to hunting in the sauna for cum straight from the tap is that, said “Married” men are rarely happy to give you a direct deposit for fear of taking some unwelcome guests home to the little woman, and rightly so. This then leaves lots of bins strewn throughout the establishment full of recently ejected cum in handy little rubber wrappers.
Well, if they don’t want it then it’s a shame to just let it go to waste right? Oh yes, I have found myself, when left in a room in a sauna, after an afore mentioned “married” bloke has just peeled off the condom and tossed it into the bin, rifling through the contents of the bin to retrieve the loaded rubber. However, there have been times when whilst rummaging I have come across two or three condoms of unknown origin, also holding a precious cargo. I can almost feel the reaction I am getting from this paragraph; I’m sure I already told you I am a cum whore!
So, this then triggers the following sequence of events!
1. Feel happy with the haul from this room, get the collection of cum squeezed up my ass and any drips left drizzled down my gullet. Then move on to find some more real cock, preferably raw, to pound the cocktail deep into me.
2. Take to watching hot guys enter a room and hanging about outside until they leave. Then quickly going in to see if they have left a, still warm, fresh load for me to pilfer and recycle. This almost becomes a bit of a game for me and for a time I actually look to see which guys are carrying around condoms tucked under the rubber band for their locker key around their ankle.
3. Imagine to myself just how many loads there are lurking in the bins throughout the establishment. Then go on a hunting frenzy like some kind of debauched tramp, indiscriminately poking through bins and scanning the floor for discarded loads left by ungrateful bottoms and married tops. (By the time I am at this stage I am really beyond caring what anybody else in the sauna thinks of me).
The decision here generally cycles between all 3, dependent on just how horny I am at the time, which invariably is VERY. Sometimes I use the loads individually as I find them. Sometimes I covertly carry them around like quest trophies and then transfer them all into one condom, getting more and more excited as the rubber bag rapidly fills up its artificial shaft. The options go on and on. Sometimes pushing a 30 load cocktail from one haul up my ass to be fisted into me or maybe knotting the end and taking it home for the freezer to add to a previously harvested collection to make a nice fat devils dick popsicle.
If I am in the sauna for over 24 hours then I can easily manage to find several dozen recycled loads and plenty of fresh ones straight from the source and get them all churned up in my MAN-CUNT: Nothing turns a top on more than knowing he is fucking 43 loads deeper into a guy before he adds his own.
May the Sauna never die for the sake of all us cum hungry fuck monkeys across the globe. Here endeth the lesson.
Stay connected with Bruce, the Brit-PIG