CUMM UK Edited Bi/ Mr Cox
There are two sides to the jockstrap that symbolize the homoerotic paradox: the pouch in the front as the shrine of masculinity joined to the straps in the back framing its mythic violation.” Brian Pronger describing the jockstrap In his book The Arena of Masculinity. Jockstraps, slingshots, jock-in-the-box, you name it, its all a man’s essence … Read moremythic violation
With the exception of Rugby, it’s hard to imagine any other sport more associated with homosexuality than wrestling. It’s sexy pinning combinations, makes it a source of great erotic delight for many men. I have a mate that is addicted to wanking while he watches his wrestling videos, or his pornography, as he calls it. Wrestling … Read moreis wrestling homosexual ?
Your depression is connected to your insolence and refusal to praise. Whoever feels himself walking on the path, and refuses to praise–that man or woman steals from others every day–is a shoplifter! The sun became full of light when it got hold of itself. Angels only began shining when they achieved discipline. The sun goes … Read moreRumi on Male Depression
My Soul turned its face to that happy place, The land of peace Where questionings cease. The mystery, That till now from me Thousand veils concealed, My soul revealed. Rumi FOUND ON HOT HOMOEROTIC MEN
After a big rugby game, all the players came off the field and hit the showers. These sweaty men strip to their jock straps and soap up their magnificent bodies. They glisten in the light, their cocks ripple as they scrub every inch. Their huge balls hang there dripping with water, begging. Then the players … Read moreAfter a big rugby game
My name is Rob and I live in Australia, 6′ 2″, brown hair, broad chest, not flat but not fat with a soft brown fur, thick thighs and a nice rugby ass. I had just moved from Sydney to Melbourne. In Sydney I was part of a great team, a lot of really sexy guys, (but none of them were gay!). So I was moving to Melbourne because my partner was offered a really great job. In Melbourne rugby doesn’t really exist, it’s all about Aussie rules football here, which I wasn’t really interested in. To play rugby you had to drive almost and hour and a half. But after three months of no exercise I had no choice but to take the drive. So I sign up and meAt the guys. They were not a sexy as my last team which was really disappointing because that’s 75% of the reason why I play. In fact there was not one guy that turned me on. I guess now I could shower without wearing my jockstrap to hide my boner. It was the day of my first training session with the new team. I went into the locker-room to change and there where a bunch of guys hanging around, some nude. I felt quite comfortable to strip down knowing that I wasn’t going to get caught with a massive hard on. So I stripped down and thought I might as well make the most off it so I walked around in the nude for a while and met some of the other guys, and to show off my cock! Then a big voice from the front of the room yelled ‘c’mon fellas’, I was the coach who I hadn’t met yet. Everyone started heading out to the field, I quickly walked over to my stuff to get changed when I saw the coach approaching me. He was about 5-7 years older then me, about 47-48 or so, He was really hot, his thick arms were covered in a thick layer of hair, the same colour as the hair that poked out the top of his tight polo shirt. I could se his nipples pressing against his shirt and his tree trunk legs nearly tearing his shorts, his cock was bulging. He stopped to shake my hand. “Hi, I’m James the coach” he said, “Call me Jim”. “I’m rob…..ahhhh… I’m new” I replied nervously looking at his big fingers, then up his chest to his beautiful face, his eyes were amazing. We chatted for a couple of minute, I couldn’t take my eyes of him. He was standing so close I could smell him, and hear the noise when rubbed the stubble on his face with those big hands.
Then it happened, I didn’t even notice. I guess I forgot that I was naked! But I felt a little pressure on my cock, I had got an erection, god knows how long I had it. But because he was standing so close it was pushed right against his thigh. He must have noticed. I looked down and gasped! I freaked out I was looking for my towel to cover myself. Once I had I looked up and he just had a little smile on his face. I didn’t know what to say! He stood there, and then he slowly licked his bottom lip while making eye contact with me. I don’t know why but I didn’t respond and looked away. I then felt him move closer and run his hand up the slit in the towel and gave my still hard cock a couple of tugs and then turned around and walked out to the field, he turned and looked at me as he walked to the door. My heart was pumping a million miles an hour; I got a great view of his ass as he left the locker-room. While we where training I couldn’t even look at him. But every time I took a quick glance at him, yep, he was looking right my way. I began to get horny again and build up a little courage. So I stated to stare at him. He was subtly re-adjusting his cock while looking at me, so I gave him a bit of the same. It was time to hit the showers. Jim had disappeared, all the guys were in the shower but I wanted to wait for Jim so I could get a look at his cock. It was getting a little late so I jumped in the shower fully naked. There were two other younger guys in there finishing up. I didn’t know but they were the last to leave. I heard someone locking the doors of the locker-room, I ran out there to tell them that I was still in here. And it was Jim! I stood there dripping wet, and without saying a word he approached me with a smile on his face. I put my hand on his sweaty, hairy thigh and slowly and firmly dragged my hand up his thigh to his beautiful ass, and pulled him even closer. His hands clutched my ass and started to squeeze my cheeks really hard it almost hurt. I slipped one of my hands down his shorts and rubbed it up and down his warm, wet and hairy ass crack, I kept pulling my hand out to smell his sweet smell. My cock was now rock hard and dripping pre cum, and I was dying to see his.
Without any hesitation I went to my knees again, he hiked one of his legs up and rested it on a bench, and with those big hands he spread one of his cheeks. I didn’t muck around I just went for it rubbing my face up and down his crack, tounge fucking him, fingering, the lot, He was moaning so loud ahhhh, yyyyeah, oh lick it, lick it, oh fuck me’ his ass started rocking back and forth on my face. I reached through his legs and grabbed his cock and released it. I licked for a good ten minutes. He turned around and slipped his cock into my mouth, all round my lips were wet from all the saliva, I could feel pubes on my face, and I could still smell it. Surprisingly he liked his cock sucked slowly, and he wanted me to look him in the eyes. I worked his whole shaft and big balls; I started jerking my own cock. He pulled me up and gave me a big wet kiss and told me to lie on the bench, he pushed my knees to my chest and went to work on my ass with his tongue.
Slowly fucking me with it, I was in heaven, running my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. I shut my eyes and enjoyed it. Then I felt the tip of his cock at my hole. Slowly it went in, He had it all in and he came down and kissed me, all I could taste was ass. He kissed me and slowly started to fuck me, pulling it all the way out then back in again. I shut my eyes and enjoyed it. Then I felt the tip of his cock at my hole. Slowly it went in, He had it all in and he came down and kissed me, all I could taste was ass. He kissed me and slowly started to fuck me, pulling it all the way out then back in again. He kissed me and slowly started to fuck me, pulling it all the way out then back in again… He got faster in no time and soon he was riding me hard… I looked up at him as he took of his polo shirt while he was fucking me to show of his hairy chest and beautiful pecks. I jerked my dick and came all over my stomach, he pulled his cock out and got me on my knees and jerked like hell. Then it sprayed everywhere in my mouth on my tits. I stood up and we kissed and the come on my chest rubbed into his, we both had cum on our chins. We licked each other up then jumped in the shower. True story, if you want to hear more leave a reply below.
We have to visit all the way back to the 1870s, and a Mr. Bennett of Chicago, who had been clearly *very* worried regarding the particular injury that cobbled streets were doing to bicycle courier’s nuts. All that unchecked moving about kept him up during the night. Poor Mr. Bennett. Yet the good news is … Read morehistory of the jockstrap
There was an old lucky jockstrap quietly hanging in a corner in the changing room at my local rugby club here in Birmingham. It was always worn by a different team member during and after every match for luck. It was hung back up at the end of the game. It had never been washed, … Read morelucky jockstrap
I ring the bell three times as arranged. The door release clicks and I push the door open and enter the building. I make my way up to the first floor and the door to the flat is open, as arranged. The flat is in darkness, but for an ultra violet glow from the bedroom. I enter to find a naked man face down on the bed. He sits up, picks up a joint from the bedside cabinet and lights it, taking a long slow pull before handing it over to me. I unfasten my trousers and step closer towards him, taking the joint. He slides his hand through my open fly and plays with my cock through the fabric of my jockstrap. The wind makes the blind throw itself against the window, emitting a rattle. “Nice one”, he says as he feels my cock stiffen under his touch. I push my jeans down and he pulls my cock out and slides it into his mouth, making me groan. I lean across to place the joint in an ashtray before peeling off my t-shirt. The man takes a sniff of poppers and hands the bottle to me. My nervous system crackles in flames of animal nitrate. I reflect on the brain cells I’m killing, feeling each one pop like a blown light bulb in my skull. The universe becomes a place I can live in once more. He sucks all the way down to the root, right down to the metal of my cock ring. I spiral with pleasure, sliding along the curves of the spiral till I land in the centre with a splash. I push him back onto the bed and climb above, thrusting into his face with my hips. He moans with pleasure as I feed him, as arranged. I slide out and slide my body down across his till my chin rests on the top of his shaved head and I stay like that for a moment, feeling just enough tenderness to consider planting a kiss on his crown, and just enough restraint to hold back. I roll over onto my back next to him, feeling myself recovering from the high, floating back into my body from the white light of orgasm. “Fuck, that was hot”. “It certainly was”, he says, licking his lips and sitting up to get a cigarette. My fingertips glow from the UV, emitting their own light. I wonder what it could possibly signify, this feral hunger that pushes me towards this. During the long walk home these words emerge like bubbles and I write them down for someone to read, someone like you. He has five more men due to visit him throughout the night. What are the secret griefs of wild and unknown men? He walks in the door and falls straight to the floor, belly pressed against the boards, and begins slurping from the dog bowl of piss you have placed there. He breaks off to look up at you and ask, “Does sir want me to drink it all?” “Yes.”
You marvel at his submission, his desire to be degraded. It fascinates and disgusts you. Short-term memory includes forgetting as a process. You pull down your football shorts and pull aside your jockstrap, releasing your semi-hard cock, and then you watch him kneel at your feet and hold the bowl up to his mouth so he can drain it, with a delicacy that belies the moment, in tiny bird sips. “Good boy”, you say when he has finished and placed the bowl back down. You push your cock into his mouth, right down to the root, making him gag and choke, which makes you harder. You withdraw and slap your spittle-slick prick against his face, and he groans. You turn around, and present your rump to his face. He buries his foraging tongue in your arsehole, licking it, eating it, attempting some kind of total penetration, as if he could crawl inside and sleep on the moss there, die there. The veneration I feel for that part of the body and the great tenderness that I have bestowed on the men who have allowed me to enter it, the grace and sweetness of their gift, oblige me to speak of all this with respect. It is not profaning the most beloved of the dead to speak, in the guise of a poem whose tone is still unknowable, of the happiness he offered me when my face was buried in a fleece that was damp with my sweat and saliva and that stuck together in little locks of hair which dried after love-making and remained stiff. You turn around and hold out your cock, uttering the single word, “toilet”. He holds his mouth open whilst you piss into it a steady jet of warm, clear liquid, which arcs from your body to his body, from inside you to inside him, this circuit of pleasure and waste that constructs its own economy within this blasted region of the soul. By the time he leaves, he has choked so much on your cock that bile stains are visible on his shirt and trousers, you can see the black curls of his chest hair through the damp fabric; he has drank your piss and swallowed your cum, and thanked you for the privilege.
I measure the success of a night by the way, by the amount of piss and seed I consume. Something has been released, some demon fed, the walls fall away and spaces yawn around you, unfathomable, unknowable spaces. And although it is still daylight, all you can see is darkness, the many shades of darkness, patterning your vision of yourself and this world, yourself in this world. And you see him, getting into his car, renegotiating his way back into his life, as you must renegotiate your way back into yours. One cannot write sufficiently in the name of an outside. Movements, becomings, in other word pure relations of speed and slowness, are below and above the threshold of perception. Nothing left but the zigzag of a line, like the lash of the whip of an enraged cart driver shredding faces and landscapes. I am hanging, suspended, like an angel trapped in the branches of a tree, sling-shot and low-slung; the cum of twenty men drips from me, like hot wax, creating a pool of pearl beneath me, on the black painted floor. I hang like a cage between heaven and earth, inside which, perched on a swing, my big red heart is singing. The taste of twenty men bruises my lips. I suffocate in an aroma composed of sweat and amyl and the cold damp of bare brick. I am euphoric with weightlessness, lost in some transcendence that still defies language, try as I might to trap it in the loose-knit net language offers. Each grunt still rings in my ear, each thrust still lodges in the archive of my skin. Each touch and taste documented, etched with crystal on the cold metal of my memory.
Every detail hovers above the moment like a halo: the leather encasing my back, the metal links kissing my legs, the circuit of pleasure flickering around me like static, the solidity of the last cock inside me. And still, still I want more, still I feel a need within that nothing can assuage, a deep dark thirst or hunger that comes from some place I have yet to find. Perhaps I never will. Now I know why they call it raw. I am raw from the roaring of my soul, for tonight my evil twin stormed the city gates and besieged me. I feel addled with lust. I am pure sensation, no consciousness, no ego. Pure id; still demanding, still hankering. I reach for my clothes and, still stoned from the experience, still wobbly, proceed to dress, to find the pieces of that other self I left behind in the scramble to obey my every wish. I wrap my self around me like a life. I retrieve the fragments of another life and assume the shape they offer. For now I can inhabit oblivion, like an addict after a fix, a cloud around my head that will rain down happiness. Its organisation is very rich and complex. Love and life appear to be separate only because everything on earth is broken apart by vibrations of various amplitudes and durations. Each moment is as empty as a mirror.
Introducing, Dave, Hairy Arse of the Month. And Mylos, smooth, manly butt. What fucking beauties
Big hairy bear Jo models the traditional japanesee jockstrap, fundoshi, proudly displaying his rather godly arse, those beautiful hairy cheeks.
Straight acting masculine white bi guy. Looking for man on man fun at my hotel this Thursday/Friday. 6ft 1, hairy, broad shoulders, rugby legs, tight arse, 7″ uncut, short dark hair, blue/green Irish eyes. Height and weight in proportion. Into kissing, body contact, mutual sucking, wanking and fucking. Versatile but more bottom. Clean, safe and … Read moreRugby Jock (City Centre)
