Don't they make a colourful bouquet?

Some of the rubber johnnies I've collected from under bushes etc, usually after a warm Summer night. Many of them had relatively fresh spunk in them (still white) so I never waste much time. Straight away I tip the contents into my mouth and feel the satisfaction of the plum-juice from an unknown man sliding down my throat. Then, on bringing that day's collection home, after licking them inside out, just to be sure I'd got every drop of spunk, I'll wash them and keep them tied in a rubber band like this. How many different cocks were involved I don't know, but it's fuckin' great to dream about them all - different sizes, some white, some black, some brown, hooded or skinned. Even if the rubber johnny had been up a female (as was obviously the case from the smell of some of them) at least it could only have been a cock that was rubbing up on the inside of each of these - and that's good enough for me!

It still fits

In this photo taken just a few days ago you can see, at top of picture, me wearing the very original boy scout belt I wore all those years ago - and they are still being used to hold up my khaki shorts!
I've described in previous blogs how on a certain day at Summer camp I had my shorts roughly yanked down (underpants weren't allowed to be worn in my troop) by a group of older scouts who then proceeded to take great pleasure in humiliating me till I felt I could have died of embarrassment - and which, unknown to them at the time, was to lead on, a couple of hours later on that same fateful day, to my being severely caned on the bum by our priest/troop leader and being expelled forever from the scouts. That day turned out to be one of enormous significance in my sexual development with all sorts of repercussions regarding inclinations and fetishes - and ever since then I've felt it would be a gross betrayal of my inclinations ever again to wear underpants with khaki shorts. (You may just be able to detect that from a very close examination of the above.)

Wish a bum like this had been mine! - and I bet very many guys feel the same way.

    (A pic I collected from another site).

Hairy bums are the ultimate pleasure when a guy is sitting on your face. Feeling your tongue tickled by those hairs as its tip reaches for that hole, teasing it to relax a bit and allow it to enter - while all the time the guy who owns the bum is moaning and groaning above you with the ecstasy you're giving him ("Oh Yeah! Don't stop!") - AND it's such a tasty feast for you, licking, slurping and chomping on that hot, tasty, fur-surrounded hole. If this isn't paradise I don't know what is!........ mmmmmmm.....scrumptious!

Scout Law 10

Scout Law Number10 states - "A scout is pure in thought, word and deed." ................Yeah, right! - and I should know!

This is the sort of thing the randy little buggers get up to. Disgusting, isn' t it?

And even a playful belt across the bum has sexual overtones.....................
 

I bet Lord Baden-Powell never had the faintest fuckin' idea what he'd started - but thank you anyway, Sir!

Revealing myself (well, almost) in another of my fetishes.

And all these pics taken this very morning!

Got the idea for this blog in seeing a posting of a video on Xtube yesterday of a guy being filmed going outside on the road wearing nothing but a white plastic mac, which he opened while playing with his cock. (You could see through his mac anyway, that he was stark naked.) It got me excited because plastic macs is yet another of my fetishes which, like nearly all the others, originated during my brief period as a boy scout. As rainwear we were told to try to get a green or brown anorak but if that was too expensive to buy a plastic mac, which I did, allowing others to see that you were wearing a scout uniform underneath. And so  this seed of a fetish was sown, to go along with khaki shorts, flap back pockets, army rubber groundsheet/capes and other articles of male wear, which have given me great tossing-off pleasures over the years since. The great thing about plastic macs, as with army rubber rain capes with their heavy masculine smell, is that it is so easy to lick up the spunk from off them. On warm but rainy Summer nights I like to go for a walk wearing either a plastic mac or an army cape, but with my fly undone underneath, my nob-head brushing or gliding gently against the plastic or rubber material. It hardly needs saying that it's often too difficult to stop my cock from spurting, leaving a white trail along the wet path.

     Here's a couple more pics taken this very morning, one showing my shithole again, still badly needing a fuckin' good licking. (Please, someone!) 
                         
 I WILL reveal my face properly in a future blog (so many others already do, so why not?)

                                                                                                                         

I'd like the first time my face is revealed for my mouth to be full of Desi cock. It may not be easy to achieve, especially in England, to find a willing Indian or other Desi who will photo or film this particular Daddy sucking on his hoosie. Maybe he might have a friend who will do it for him? But it would be so nice to have the photo or film shown to the world. He wouldn't have to have his own face revealed if he preferred not to.

One opportunity to have it done is coming up the week-end after next when there'll be the annual international festival in Luton (England) - a town which has a very large Desi population.
I used to attend the festival regularly, but not in recent years. Getting there and back on the train has always been a problem, the big festival day being the Sunday, which is also a day subject to rail diversions and delays. But when I have gone I've always seen gangs of Indians and Pakis steadily getting more and more pissed on cheap beer as the day progresses. I'm sure that getting one or two of them at the right time might find them in a co-operative mood for a bit of fun - especially if I offer a little financial incentive. Anyway, if it happens, this blog will report  and show it.
(Btw: I don't suppose any readers of this blog who live in Luton - and there must be some - have any ideas and can offer a suggestion here?)

Can't get this stunning pic out of my head.

I loaded this Indian guy's pic from off another web-site several years ago - and it's haunted me ever since.  For me this is close to perfection. To have that dark hairy-holed bum sitting on my face, suffocating me, would be fuckin' heaven! It hardly needs saying that I hope he'd also let me suck on that dark-bronzed, shiny nob for a very long time - at least long enough to have his warm, thick, Indian man-juice spurting into my mouth and gushing down my thoat.
   If he recognises himself I do hope he won't mind me loading this here. (Of course I don't know his name and I'm not going to divulge even the username he used on that site at that time). He's got a set of 'equipment' he ought to be extremely proud to show off, and let others look at and gasp with envy - male parts that would be worthy of a god! I certainly wouldn't be slow to get down on my knees to worship him! Would any red-blooded male refuse to do what he wants with this if the lucky owner offered it? No, I thought not..

My shithole loves being licked.

Apart from actual cumming, I'd have difficulty in choosing between the next 'greatest' feeling I experience.
One of them is the moment I am sucking a guy's cock and getting the first notion that he's shooting into my mouth. That initial sensation of the warm cum on your tongue or, even better, hitting the roof of your mouth or the back of your throat is indescribable. (By the way, why don't all guys give a verbal warning that they're about to cum? It's only considerate, allowing you a second or two to prepare to receive their tasty gift.)
   But the other supremely magnificent action is having my hole licked. If heaven is only a fraction of this feeling I want to go there. Sensing a rough male tongue slurping on my bumhole, hearing it rasp as it goes up and down, is just fuckin' amazing. I've written before that I find it unbelievable that some guys not only refuse to do it to others but won't even let me do it to them. It's just beyond my comprehension. Have they any idea how fantastic it feels?
   I experience the pleasure of being rimmed so intensely that I sometimes can't hold back from cumming even though neither my hand or the guy's hand has touched my cock. It's great but sometimes I wish I could restrain myself so I could savour the feeling longer.
 My fantasy is to have my hole licked by an Indian guy while another Indian let me have his big brown cock in my mouth. But I reckon if that situation ever came about I'd shoot my wad within seconds. Even thinking about it has taken me to the edge now,,,,,,,oh FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111111

    Now with a damp, sticky patch on my shorts I'll just finish off by saying that if I had the money I'd pay two Indians really well to get on each end of me as I've described, while another guy films us - and let me post it here on this site. I wouldn't mind my face being shown - I'd like to open my mouth to show fresh, white Indian spunk on my tongue before I swallowed it. Many thousands of others show their faces already, so why not? It's nothing to be ashamed of.
But that'll have to wait. If I could I'd even think about flying out to India where there must be millions of good-looking, willing, brown-hooded-cocked Indians ready to earn a bit of extra money, right?
But it'll just have to remain a randy dream for the foreseeable future. Pity!

Am I a pervert for getting hard at these? Well, so what? Can't help it - and I fuckin' LOVE it!

Though I'm a Brit I am aware of the reputation of India's Hindu RSS movement. Should I therefore apologise for saying that the sight of these high-kicking khaki-shorted-guys gives me one hell of a boner - especially the happy-looking youngster at the front of the top picture, the guy on the left in the second (I love his skin colour. Wish I had it.), and the incredibly handsome husky chap at the front of the last one. Christ! If I ever saw them in the flesh - say spectating at on one of their marches through cities - I'd be cumming through my throbbing stiffie within seconds. Meantime I've got to hold myself off from shooting while I have their images in front of me and I imagine my hands reaching up those damn sexy shorts, up those hairy Indian thighs, up further until........Oh, Jesus S-H-I-T!!! I forgot to put the box of tissues beside me!

Oh, and by the way, it would be terrific to have the guy in the last pic fuck me long and hard up the bum while I had his loose-fitting, roomy shorts over my head, drinking in the musty, sweaty odours left in there of his hairy cock and balls and of his own native brown Indian bum with its dark, hairy cleft and hot hole. Oh, fuckin' HEAVEN!!!

Where the cane hit - plus one of my methods in searching out fun time.

It took a very long time for the scars to heal after I'd been cane-thrashed when I was 12. But if you come really close - so close that I can feel your breath on my skin - you might just be able to make out remaining traces of that horrific punishment, most especially on the right side where, if I'd had foresight, I would first have removed the coins in my shorts back pocket. It was there where I was cut the most, even drawing blood. (Wearing underpants under shorts was, bizarrely, completely forbidden.) But carrying coins in my pocket hadn't been on my mind then, as I was practically cacking myself when I realised the treatment I was going to get from that fuckin' sadistic priest/troop leader as he frog-marched me down the campsite field to the 'punishment tree' by the small stream where I had to bend over the low-hanging branch and hold my knees, with hands already sting-numbed by the vicious caning applied to both palms - then to have the cane rained down without mercy on my backside, until I collapsed onto the ground as a screaming, blubbing wreck. NOT a pretty sight, especially for my entire troop purposely assembled to witness my painful downfall - who, I'd imagine, watched with mixed feelings of horror, fascination and (I'd like to think) sympathy at the disproportionate severity of the punishment . Is it any wonder that the absurdly extreme treatment developed into one of my many subsequent interests? - a liking of C.P., both as receiver and giver!

When I go hitch-hiking in the English countryside, this is the 'uniform' I like to copy in order to get noticed by passing traffic - and, boy, does it work! It could hardly be any more conspicuous. Of course, many drivers give me a look and get scared off, thinking I must be a bit crazy and not to be trusted. But sometimes it not only works. often with a bemused smile or even laughs, when it's said that I look like an overgrown boy scout or a British army desert rat in north Africa. I occasionally strike lucky in finding a driver who, after I've made some leading suggestions, is game for a bit of 'fun' either in the car/van/lorry or outside in a field or in the bushes. I'll probably tell in future blogs of some of my successes - and failures - as well as at least a couple of scares when I presumed too much, after having drunk too many cans of beer before being picked up.

(Btw: I got this pic off the internet. I don't know this guy - but I certainly wouldn't say "No" to him.)

Another army punishment that cracks me up.

Ha ha! This is SO fuckin' funny! Two squaddies being punished - one being made on his knees to act like a dog and lick the balls of his trussed-up army buddy, who can't stop himself getting all excited and hardened till he spurts huge gobbets of hot spunk into the air.  How embarrassing and humiliating! No doubt the guy doing the balls-lick then had to lick the cum up from off the floor. I wonder what the pair had been doing to deserve this appalling treatment. Maybe they were found with a hard-on in the shower - or tossing themselves off under the blanket at night - or even caught with one sucking the other? Whatever it was, wish I'd been there to witness their punishment and to make sure it was performed to the drill sergeant's complete satisfaction.

I'm fuckin' gagging for the tongue of some randy guy - a horny Indian chap would be fuckin' PERFECT!

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If only all or ANY of my public toilet visits were like this.

In my recent blog I told of an incident which went horribly wrong - at least it felt so at the time. Sometimes these visits to a public shithouse do go pretty well -or even brilliantly. But when things go right they are boring to relate. Over the years I've had quite a few scary experiences, some real close encounters with dangerous men and circumstances, not to mention the police. These are the incidents which are more interesting to write about. Though some of them scared me shitless when they happened, I have manage to escape pretty well unscathed. At least so far.
    So in future blogs, occasionally, I'll tell you about some of these times, some of which seem quite funny in hindsight, even though I came close to injury on a number of occasions. But when one is desperate for cock fun, and your todger is acting as your brain, sometimes you've just got to follow where it points, right?

Toilet relief?

Last Summer I wrote on some web-site (I'd thought it had been this one, but it seems not) about how I'd gone into a public toilet, looking for a bit of cock fun with any horny stranger or two and, while sitting in the cubicle, army surplus shorts round ankles and cock sticking up like a ramrod up in anticipation, had had the door suddenly kicked open by a couple of kids who filmed me in shock and then hurriedly trying to cover myself up. I was largely to blame for this mishap myself, because, to draw attention to my presence and to encourage any guy to look in out of curiosity, I'd written on the wall above the piss-stalls with a felt-tip pen - "IF THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE SHIT ROOMS HE'S SURE TO BE PLAYING WITH HIS COCK"". In addition, I'd left the door unbolted and slightly ajar. As I was sitting there, waiting for a randy-minded bloke to come in, me with a can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, reading the dirty stories and jokes on the walls, I'd heard the footsteps of a couple of kids coming into the toilet, standing at the stalls and heard their piss splashing while whispering and giggling to each other. I couldn't hear what they were saying but their laughs were growing. Then there was a shuffling about, more whispering and sniggering - and suddenly, without warning, with a mighty kick the door flew back in my face and I was there looking aghast at a couple of young chaps, aged perhaps 13 or 14, laughing while one held his mobile, filming me sitting on the toilet in shocked reaction. Since both my hands were occupied I couldn't very well quickly hide my swollen hoosie till I put down my beer. My first reaction had been to push the door shut again but they only gave it another violent kick, almost breaking my knuckles, and getting another few seconds  of me in stiff-cocked confusion. Then they ran out, both laughing wildly - and I was left there shaken, embarrassed, with todger rapidly losing its stiffness. My randy mood had disappeared. I got up, wiped my bum, pulled up my shorts and left the toilet.
    It was only later when the horrific thought struck me that they would not only show the brief film to their friends for amusement, me with my face fully exposed (as well as my lower regions), but they would very likely post it on YouTube for the whole world, including people I know, to witness and to laugh at my humiliation. For a long time after this incident I dreaded finding it on that site or somewhere else - and I still occasionally nervously check to see if I can find it. So far I haven't discovered it - and do you know what? In place of a feeling of relief that, after all, it's not been posted (at least in any obvious place), there's actually a sense of disappointment. I know even now that I'd hate it for my being exposed to everyone like that - but, even so, it would be oddly exciting. Even now my cock is twitching at the thought of it happening. Strange, isn't it? I almost feel cheated that it hasn't happened. I think the only way to find out how I'd really react is for it to actually appear somewhere where I could watch it myself. If it doesn't I'll just have to go back to that same shit-house, armed with beer and ciggies, and sit in that same cubicle once more - hoping those same kids come back and give me a repeat experience!

    

My todger is stiff and ready to shoot - all I need is a hole to put it in....

.....so either turn round and bend over - or get on your fuckin' knees RIGHT NOW, you little shit!!!

A fantasy sketch from my randy teenage years

I've unearthed this drawing I did when I was a youngster, while still (externally at least), a devout practicing Roman Catholic - and what a sex-crazed little bugger I must have been! I know that I would never have owned up in Confession to having drawn anything like this even though I knew that even just thinking of such things was a mortal sin, condemning me to everlasting Hell-fire torment. 
   This was at a time long before porn videos were available and even before porno magazines were easily obtainable. One had to order them from abroad, always with the very real risk of having the package opened and examined by the police - and often actually being charged with soliciting 'indecent' material, so it was a very oppressive and dangerous time when I didn't dare risk as much as some did. The only regular and marginally less dangerous means to gather porn material was from contacts written on walls of public shithouses - or to read the stories, looking at the drawings (while tossing yourself off) - and, as I did, to make one's own contributions to this 'artists and writers gallery' for others to appreciate. Sad times.
    I haven't shown this drawing to anyone before - and it would have been a shame to have kept it unseen. I never continued with sketching, though now wish I had. However, the subject of this drawing shows that my teenage imagination was pretty fertile - and I already  knew what was turning me on. Hope some of you like it too.

This picture made my cream my jeans - in a public library!

This photo may not do much for you, but it was the first one I saw which catered for my particular 'tastes', before I got my own p.c., and when the only option available was to use the computer bank in my local public library. On that occasion, before I was aware of what was happening, and before I could stop myself, I'd spunked in my Wranglers. Anyone who has followed my blog would know that it wasn't who was wearing the scout uniform but the uniform itself - bringing back such painfully pleasurable memories, memories which still get me 'excited', of the time when I had my innocence stripped from me at the age of 12 during Summer camp by a group of bullying older scouts who thought it was good fun to degrade and 'initiate' my unwilling body - and thereby, unbeknown to them, because of scout associations with this first experience, drawing me into a web of khaki drill fetishism which enmeshed me and from which I've been unable to escape for the rest of my life - though over the years I've found that I'm not by any means the only one with this characteristic - as well as sowing seeds of a liking for S/M, including getting a kick out of making others feel as ashamed and embarrassed as I had been. I won't go into the lurid details of my shameful sexual humiliation all over again as it's all been set out out in previous blogs of mine.
    However, getting back to the subject of this blog, on that day in the library I'd been surfing the web for scout-related articles, particularly images, and I came across this as part of a feature debating the pros and cons of whether British scouts should continue to wear shorts as part of their uniform. In the computer section of the library there were about 20 individual computers, each desk separated by a wooden partition which concealed the screen from any person who happened to be using the adjacent computer. On that occasion there was a young oriental-featured lady seated next to me. As I say, when this image came up I got so excited, and so quickly (I hadn't even noticed my cock stiffening) that the first I was aware of what was happening was when I felt the uniquely unmistakeable peak of pleasure when I was shooting my load into my jeans. As usual when wearing jeans I hadn't been wearing underpants  (I like to feel the jean material against my most intimate body parts - rather like the 'no underpants' rule in my scout troop)) and after spunking I felt not just the surprise of it all happening so fast, but the awareness that very soon a wet patch would be showing in my crotch area. I'd tried my best to conceal from my neighbour any external manifestations of my shooting (stifling my gasps etc). When it was over and I'd recovered myself I knew I quickly had  to terminate my session and return home (about 15 minutes away). hoping that the wet patch wouldn't be too conspicuous by the time I got there. Back in my flat, I took off my jeans, licked up the now-cool jizz from the inside of my jeans, (it would have been a shame to have wasted it!) and took a shower, all the time with the very same image of this khaki-uniformed scout as above, imprinted forever in my mind.