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jefferson2103
On the Prowl
I went drinking with some friends two Saturdays ago during the day. About 5:00 pm, I picked up this guy. He was hot. He hadn't shaved, and he had been drinking most of the day also (We were in the French Quarter in New Orleans). We were both a little ripe since we had been enjoing the weather, partying outside most of the day. When we got back to the hotel room, the first thing he did was to walk into the bathroom to "clean up." I stopped him and pulled him out of the bathroom. Guys, when we stripped and I saw his furry, unshaved ass, I went crazy b/c I knew that hair was going to make his ass musky as hell. But, when he laid back on his stomach, and I spread his furry ass cheeks, his ass was even better than I imagined. It smelled incredible. Only like a long day of not showering could make it. It was also a little "slimy". You know what I mean, sweat mixed with ass funk. The best was that he got so turned on by my eating his funky ass, and kept he telling me to lick his dirty ass, and to clean his hole for him. I can't remember a hotter time rimming a ripe hole.
I never really got the whole "ass sniffing" thing until six months ago. I was in a trashy strip bar in Chicago. I hadn't really spent much time in them so I was a bit nervous. They don't have such "naughty" things in Utah.
There were a few cute guys up dancing. Then one came out in a jock strap and I thought "damn that's hot". All inhibitions aside I jumped up and went to give him a buck. This boy knew what he was doing. I got a damn good show for that dollar. I even got to run my finger down his crack before sitting down. When I got back to the table I absently put my hands up to my face. I immediately got a whiff of man stink from my finger. I pulled my hand away in disgust. Then for some crazy reason I brought my hand back up to my nose, just to confirm thats what I was smelling. Sure enough. Only this time I started to feel my self get a bit hard. I kept smelling my finger as nonchalantly as possible until the smell started to fade.
Then it became like a drug for me. I kept returning to his stage brandishing my ones, and each time managing to get my finger in his crack enough to refuel. The first time I went up I was so nervous i hadn't realized how moist and "slippery" his ass was. But on the second, third and fourth visits, I was certainly aware of his funk and I was I was possessed.
I finally got up enough courage to offer him a $20 if he would stand up, and back his ass up to my face and let me smell his ripe butt first hand. He was very hesitant, but finally gave in. He even pushed back hard enough, my nose rubbed across his hole and I even managed to get a little taste before he pulled away. I was stunned, I nearly came in my pants right then and there. I immediately rushed off to the bathroom and with my finger to my nose and licking my lips, I pulled out my cock and blew my load.
Ever since I've been obsessed with sweaty dirty butts. My own included. I take every chance I get to sniff, finger and lick a ripe ass. I'm afraid I may have become addicted. Do they have a 12 step program for this?
There were a few cute guys up dancing. Then one came out in a jock strap and I thought "damn that's hot". All inhibitions aside I jumped up and went to give him a buck. This boy knew what he was doing. I got a damn good show for that dollar. I even got to run my finger down his crack before sitting down. When I got back to the table I absently put my hands up to my face. I immediately got a whiff of man stink from my finger. I pulled my hand away in disgust. Then for some crazy reason I brought my hand back up to my nose, just to confirm thats what I was smelling. Sure enough. Only this time I started to feel my self get a bit hard. I kept smelling my finger as nonchalantly as possible until the smell started to fade.
Then it became like a drug for me. I kept returning to his stage brandishing my ones, and each time managing to get my finger in his crack enough to refuel. The first time I went up I was so nervous i hadn't realized how moist and "slippery" his ass was. But on the second, third and fourth visits, I was certainly aware of his funk and I was I was possessed.
I finally got up enough courage to offer him a $20 if he would stand up, and back his ass up to my face and let me smell his ripe butt first hand. He was very hesitant, but finally gave in. He even pushed back hard enough, my nose rubbed across his hole and I even managed to get a little taste before he pulled away. I was stunned, I nearly came in my pants right then and there. I immediately rushed off to the bathroom and with my finger to my nose and licking my lips, I pulled out my cock and blew my load.
Ever since I've been obsessed with sweaty dirty butts. My own included. I take every chance I get to sniff, finger and lick a ripe ass. I'm afraid I may have become addicted. Do they have a 12 step program for this?
MisterMajestic
It ain't easy being King
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2009
- Posts
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...LOL @ Pervhead....You need to stop...Tom Welling is a Handsome dude..I havent seen any pics of those Buns of his..
MisterMajestic
It ain't easy being King
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2009
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I agree with you Dude...But I'm also in agreement that a Hot Fucker is a Hot Fucker even if he is Famous...
Now I sorta laugh at Guys that actually remember the names of the Porn Models in their DVD collection and have wet dreams about Male super-stars...To me that is a "make-Believe" world...It's not real..But as they say to each his own...
Now I sorta laugh at Guys that actually remember the names of the Porn Models in their DVD collection and have wet dreams about Male super-stars...To me that is a "make-Believe" world...It's not real..But as they say to each his own...
- Joined
- Mar 9, 2009
- Posts
- 953
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- 16
I tried rimming female before, boy, what a big surprise i was in for. not for me. definitely a guy's ass is at the top of my list.
coloradobottom
Sex God
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2007
- Posts
- 710
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I've only come across one butt I didn't care for. This hot biker really had me going. Gave him some great head and then wanted to sniff and lick his hairy tight ass. He had ballls of shit clinging to the hairs. Not a turn on for me.
jhnphilipps
Porn Star
- Joined
- Dec 31, 2006
- Posts
- 439
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I'll just place this here.......
somehow this pic makes me wanna throw up!
there is nothing sensual/sexy about all the hair in that dude's body!
Well, why did you read them if you don't like it? It is clear from the start what these posts are about.
Anyway, I'd like to add that I like/do all of this and that I have no time for squeaky clean characterless (and especially shaved) arseholes. Give me man as he was made with all the smells that go with him. Sooo fucking hot to sniff those tell tale skids or get your nose into a guy's shit hole after he's had a dump and a got a good sweat up!
- Joined
- Apr 25, 2009
- Posts
- 187
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Me too, but I always rather a clean one!
I was on rough solo coastal trek last weekend and was just getting back towards civilisation hen I was overtaken by the hottest jogger I've seen in a good while. He was dressed in a dazzling white wifebeater that clung to a prfectly formed muscly chest and skintight light grey shorts.A perfect arse - and a dark, dark sweat streak right along his arse crack! My nose and tongue started twitching convulsively and my dick drooled its approval copiously. End of story? No. A couple of metres past me he actually fingered his arse crack pushing his shorts into it. Then he turned briefly, grinned and shot off again. I'm still getting off on that experience!
From my age 12 to 18 most everything I did behind closed doors (and doors sometimes not always closed) was then classed by others — elders, of course! — either as “experimental” or “appropriate for the age” and nothing especially to worry about. Touching, looking, holding, fondling, dressing, smelling, kissing, sucking, swallowing, and fucking (finger and otherwise) seemed not to cause much alarm with anyone, excepting those left out of the activities. At 12:01 a.m. on the day of my 18th birthday all became felony. The chargeable offense? For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. What I began at 11:30 p.m. of the hour before might have led me (depending on the jurisdiction) to a term of 10-20 years residence in a state penitentiary if continued on to the following 12:15 a.m. and having been caught in the act. No longer as a matter of acceptable conduct could I suck the nipples of an ever-eager sixteen-year-old girl or the vibrantly enflamed cock of an even more ever-eager fourteen-year-old boy. Decades after my date of transition, I’m still trying to fully understand the mania for validating by chronometry any important human experience.
Prenatal erection and intrauterine male masturbation are now matters of common documented record. Whether or not I led the vanguard on those two points remains an unsettled question — for others. Leadership notwithstanding, the first sexual experience, at age four, of which I retain any recollection was with my little playmate who lived only across the street from my house. While playing with our trucks under her front porch, she suddenly stood up, turned around, pulled up her skirt, pulled down her underpants, leaned forward, and asked, “Do you want to smell?” At that early age I didn’t know the firm implications of “yes” or “no” to any questions, so I simply said, “Yes.” In went my nose and, after decades later, it’s never been removed. This first reverie was aborted too soon by the arrival of her father. “Do you want me to tell your father what you’re doing?” “No, sir.” I fled home, forgot the (w)hole incident by the time I had crossed the street, never again saw my playmate, and never ceased to wonder if everyone smelled the same — as good! — back there as she. Jumping ahead a bit . . .
About age ten I began awakening to new anal sensations when wiping myself. Good things happening. On a lark I tried activating my butt with finger insertion, using the only available lubricant, Dr Scholl’s Foot Cream. Instant burning with an irresistible sustained inflammation! This continued intermittently until age 12, when one evening my friend, Billy, jumped me, aggressively pulled down my pants, and then gave me my first blowjob. My first swallower. Reciprocity didn’t need to be requested. Because Billy was only a pre-ejaculating 10-year-old, he gave me my first mouthful of piss; wholly unexpected, but its own kind of bliss. (Preadolescent boys’ piss has a crystalline del-cacy in a class of its own.) I wanted to smell Billy’s asshole. He willingly turned around, bent over, spread himself wide, and in I went. I’ve seldom come up for air since.
I’m drawn to all very strong body odors, especially feet and crotch, front and back. My one requirement is that everything be reasonably clean; definitely not recently washed, but clean and having been confined for at least a few hours (preferably on a hot day). There is nothing that can surpass a lack of aggressive cleanliness, in preparation for a fulfilling smellfest, than concentrations of natural body odors. Drugs? Though I’ve never tried, No contest! One special treat is having the chosen-of-the-moment propped up on his knees with his head resting on a pillow. This is, for me, one of life’s great views. From the rear, this gives me direct access to his hole to smell and pendulous balls to lick and suck.
From this position I also can blow air in his ass so I can suck out his farts. In and out, back and forth ‘til both tire. No harm done; delight for both. And his feet are never far behind. As many a veteran rimmer sure has lamented in conflict, the more the tonguing the less the aroma.
Amidst all this passive ménage a gymnastique, I’ve got to say I could, if possible, dine regularly on cum.
Prenatal erection and intrauterine male masturbation are now matters of common documented record. Whether or not I led the vanguard on those two points remains an unsettled question — for others. Leadership notwithstanding, the first sexual experience, at age four, of which I retain any recollection was with my little playmate who lived only across the street from my house. While playing with our trucks under her front porch, she suddenly stood up, turned around, pulled up her skirt, pulled down her underpants, leaned forward, and asked, “Do you want to smell?” At that early age I didn’t know the firm implications of “yes” or “no” to any questions, so I simply said, “Yes.” In went my nose and, after decades later, it’s never been removed. This first reverie was aborted too soon by the arrival of her father. “Do you want me to tell your father what you’re doing?” “No, sir.” I fled home, forgot the (w)hole incident by the time I had crossed the street, never again saw my playmate, and never ceased to wonder if everyone smelled the same — as good! — back there as she. Jumping ahead a bit . . .
About age ten I began awakening to new anal sensations when wiping myself. Good things happening. On a lark I tried activating my butt with finger insertion, using the only available lubricant, Dr Scholl’s Foot Cream. Instant burning with an irresistible sustained inflammation! This continued intermittently until age 12, when one evening my friend, Billy, jumped me, aggressively pulled down my pants, and then gave me my first blowjob. My first swallower. Reciprocity didn’t need to be requested. Because Billy was only a pre-ejaculating 10-year-old, he gave me my first mouthful of piss; wholly unexpected, but its own kind of bliss. (Preadolescent boys’ piss has a crystalline del-cacy in a class of its own.) I wanted to smell Billy’s asshole. He willingly turned around, bent over, spread himself wide, and in I went. I’ve seldom come up for air since.
I’m drawn to all very strong body odors, especially feet and crotch, front and back. My one requirement is that everything be reasonably clean; definitely not recently washed, but clean and having been confined for at least a few hours (preferably on a hot day). There is nothing that can surpass a lack of aggressive cleanliness, in preparation for a fulfilling smellfest, than concentrations of natural body odors. Drugs? Though I’ve never tried, No contest! One special treat is having the chosen-of-the-moment propped up on his knees with his head resting on a pillow. This is, for me, one of life’s great views. From the rear, this gives me direct access to his hole to smell and pendulous balls to lick and suck.
From this position I also can blow air in his ass so I can suck out his farts. In and out, back and forth ‘til both tire. No harm done; delight for both. And his feet are never far behind. As many a veteran rimmer sure has lamented in conflict, the more the tonguing the less the aroma.
Amidst all this passive ménage a gymnastique, I’ve got to say I could, if possible, dine regularly on cum.