Not sure if I posted this smut...

This is a combination of 5 hot scenes with a number of hot men that I have chosen to blend into one random rambling than name names as some of them I can't for a variety of reasons. All of these were in the past 6 weeks.I crawled on top of him slowly, my legs tracing along his fine silver fur as I kissed his skin, kissed up his body, found my lips resting upon his smooth skin as he pulled me close to him. He called me his whore as he pushed himself up into me. He called me his whore and I moaned out screamed out as his wide cock forced me back into myself and I buried my heart in his fears.There are times when the lines between fantasy and reality blur and I am on the edge, riding the waves, catching a curl, and follow it to the shore.He said he’d wanted to see me piss into a Pilsner, to drink it down, to feel the golden glow part between his lips as he saw me on stage. But we dare not, could not, hospitality spoke against it and yet as he whispered it into my ear how could I not imagine him there beneath me drinking from the font? I had to have him. His fingers inside me were barely foreplay and it was not what I wanted- I wanted his silver mustache perched beneath my cunt begging for me begging for me, I had to have it.Dream time fades into reality fades into possibilities and I know it is all real, a mesh of memories over the past month that play together in an aria where names are left unspoken and I need more.Hand me a screwdriver he said, the fur on his chin a soft down as he winked at me over a piece of wood. I could feel the wood in my pants, could feel him wanting me, but we tried to keep our eye on the project. I walked into my closet, threw on a button-up shirt, and when he came out he realized that I was just as big of a faggot as he was. With a half-finished desk behind us, empty Ikea boxes strewn upon the floor, he reached down into my jeans and his fingers rummaged through the files of my life and found me hard, needy, wanting, as he pulled me in close to him and kissed my fears away.I am wide open, I am truth.Over a cup of coffee we discussed God, husbands, wives, truths and disappointments. We spoke of sacred sexuality and the need for a good fuck. Hand in hand we walked out of the café and out into the street, winding our way past the memories of my childhood and into the motel where we kissed between clean sheets and open hearts.He held one glass in his hand and I held its mate, soon smashed, dashed upon the floor after we had each filled our cups, emptied ourselves, intertwined our arms and drunk deep on each others nectar. I straddled over him as the water washed us away, lifted one leg then high above his head and let myself go in waves as his eager dick lept up to catch any drops his hungry mouth managed to miss.With him at my feet I am at peace. Even when he pisses me off, tickles too hard, makes me bite back my tongue, I still always leave knowing he will jerk off to me tonight and that I walk lighter, dance harder, and long to have his teeth dug into my heels again. Dig into the flesh of my feet, lap at my toes, smell the scent of leather upon me as you, hard cocked and dreamy eyed dance under the duress of my desires.I growled into his arms as his hands choked down around my neck and I came pushing up against his body, wishing I was pushed up into his body, but that would come soon enough. That’s right faggot he whispered into my ear and as I looked into his deep brown eyes I knew, I knew, I knew I was home.Cum is a curious thing. White upon my chest as sutures are set aside with my screams. White in his belly button as we lay back and realize it was over as soon as we left the shower. Creamy and clear at the bottom of a condom. Translucent and dreamlike dried in his skivvies. Secret cum between the lines of fetish fantasies woven live opportunities found. Cum is curious, times lines are curious. Five dates woven into one dream, one lie, one truth, one life.