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Suddenly, as if sensing what was in my mind, the young man thrust a brown bottle under my nose.
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Somehow I knew this man was going to poz me if I let him. I could tell he was going to come and started to squirm with a sense of fear. The Asian guy growled with pleasure and I felt his thrusts becoming more urgent. I gasped with pleasure and felt myself sinking into the depravity of what was happening. Then I felt a hot stream of piss splash over my back and my backside. He came closer and watched me being fucked, then reached for his cock and pointed it. Should I take the risk? What if he came in me?įrom the corner of my eye, I noticed the young chubby guy return, a beer in his hand. I had barebacked before, but never in such sleazy circumstances. He started to thrust in and out and I felt a moments panic. Next thing I knew, his long, smooth cock was sliding up inside me. He raised my arse a little and I felt lube being rubbed into my hole. Without a word, the Asian man grabbed my arm and pulled me to kneel on the bench. The young man stood up and the Asian guy’s cock flopped out long and glistening in the dim light. I knew it was risky with the Viagra, but I took a sniff and felt the familiar rush to the head and groin. He smiled at me as he thrust in and out and offered me a bottle of poppers. So, leaving my beer on a side counter, I wandered over to see whether anything was happening.Īround one of the drapes, a young, plump man was kneeling on a bench being fucked in the arse by a muscular Asian guy whose body was running with sweat.Īs I got closer, I could see his bare cock sliding in and out of the lubed arsehole. The play area had drapes screening off some areas from the bar. The atmosphere, excitement and anticipation had kicked in and my cock rose to a satisfying erection as I ordered a beer. There were one or two naked men, older than me, wandering around. I took a deep breath and went back into the bar. I had taken a Viagra on the way, and my cock had the familiar tingling sensation as the drug kicked in so was hanging half-hard as I handed over the bag but the guy just smiled and gave me a ticket for the bag. It felt really strange and a bit scarey to get nude in a public bar and carry your clothes in a bag back out the door to the store room. I stripped off and put on my old trainers. It was still early and there were few men there yet. But, as I was soon to discover, men would piss on others anywhere throughout the club. After six on SOP nights, they put a large paddling pool in the middle where people sit/kneel to have men piss on them. They give you a big bag and you go through the door to the left into the bar area which is dimly lit with a bar ahead, toilets to the left and a large play area to the right with small, dark, arched store rooms leading off. On the right is a room where they store your clothes. You go round the side of the pub and down some steps to the basement. So one evening I packed some old trainers and a towel in a backpack and headed up to town. The reviews said it was just a basement bar – no showers or facilities – so it was best to bring a towel and some wipes! I had never tried piss fun, and was intrigued the more I thought about it. By the description it was going to be wet and wild, and I guessed the clientele might be even more sleazy than usual. I saw that one evening per week the theme was “streams of piss” which intrigued me. I realised that I could get a tube into King’s Cross after work and go to an evening session. Then I got a contract to work in London for six months and had to stay over in a local hotel. I had no problems with that, and had bare backed over the years myself although I was still neg. It attracts people who are only interested in sex in all its variations, so the clientele is varied – older, younger, fat, thin and over the years the sex was always raunchy, and usually bareback. Dingy, dirty and smelly, it runs various fetish themes including naked sessions which I tried to get to when I was in town. It’s a sleazy basement bar beneath a gay pub near the station. I’d been to the underground club at King’s Cross a few times over the years, usually on an afternoon when I was in London on business.