Hot Guys In Diapers Novels & Stories

“Don’t worry. We’ll work on that.” How do they do that? It’s like they’ve got a psychic hotline into my soul. When this family one day peels off their skin to reveal capes and latex suits, I will not be shocked. “I’ve known these guys for years,” Haley continues. “Sure, they’re apes and horny hounds, but they’re not into strip shows or prostitutes.” “Thanks, Mom,” Damion chuckles. “For making us sound so feral.” “You are feral,” she snaps, then continues. “An occasional bunny here, a groupie there, maybe a fan or two in a hot tub … but never hoes.”

Just me and my best friend trapped in the crazy heat. Sweat poured down my body in heavy streams. It ran over my chest. Dripped off my nipples. Slid between my legs and made my balls feel wet and heavy. My cock rested thick on my thigh. It was not soft anymore. The heat made it swell slow and steady. The head felt sensitive and shiny with a mix of sweat and pre-cum leaking out. I tried to ignore it but my dick kept twitching every time I breathed.

I loved it. I spotted them near the edge of the crowd. Four guys, early twenties, passing a joint and laughing too loud. Shirtless, covered in dust and glow paint. Perfect. I walked straight up, hips rolling with the music. The silver paint over my pussy caught the lights. "Hey," I said, voice low but clear. "You boys looking for something fun?" The tallest one, messy brown hair and a shark tattoo on his ribs, looked me up and down slow. "The fuck? You lost or something?"

He stepped back from me. He was looking directly into my eyes. Heat rising in them. Then he stood up quickly and suddenly unzipped his pants. His big, hard protrusion had all those veins wrapped around. There was a line of wetness at the tip. With one move, Theo put his arms around me and turned me around. It was my skirt still high, bent over on the table. He got behind me already; his thing was rubbing against me. He went in, and now, all the way and all in, in that one shot.

Instead, I walk straight inside his cabin with my best smile. I see hotty's back, his legs on the window's frame in a relaxing posture. Suddenly I feel calm seeing him relaxing in his seat. I wonder what he looks like in sweatpants and a normal tee. I notice the moaning and panting sound engulfed in the room which is coming from hotty's phone. I look closely and see two naked bodies humping on his phone's screen. No, fucking. He is watching them having sex. He is watching P**N! IN HIS PHONE. IN HIS OFFICE! OPENLY!

I took the filled bag to the big metal bin, and then I walked around looking for trash or spillages. I made a turn at the men’s bathrooms. The bald old men were naked, chatting to each other about stock options or something. I checked the stalls, and all the toilet paper dispensers were still full. The men were in deep conversation, with their flaccid cocks hanging between their legs. It was not uncommon for old men to chat in the bathrooms while naked.

“He really did that!” Gia cried, hurrying over to snatch her phone from the center table in her living room. Checking out the tenants' chat group, she saw photos of her last night's outfit pinned on the chat. Crazy comments from co-tenants read, *Shameless* *We can’t have our kids and this sex toy live under the same roof* *Kick her out!* The caption on her photo read *Indecent Dress Code Violated By Gia Anderson Again*

He toed off his dress shoes and set those and his socks neatly inside as well. Meanwhile, I took out boxes of condoms - I found a new one of each of their favorite brands - Kaz had been thorough when he'd had the room stocked. There was also a big, sealed tube of lubricant, plus some warming and cooling gels. A couple of different vibrators and a soft flogger were also inside, still in their original packaging. Everything a trio needed for a wild and crazy night. "Nice."

The strong smell wafted through the room instantly, overpowering the sweet fragrance of Lara's lemon air freshener. Their room was painted a cool shade of purple and white with a bunk bed leaning against both side of the room. Posters of Halle Berry, Naomi Campbell and a half naked Latino male model lined the wall. In the far end corner of the room, blouses, jeans and every size bra imaginable were carelessly draped over a chair. Strings of colorful waistbeads dangled from a bent nail on the pastel wall.

I stood in the middle of this ridiculous loft party, drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold like some low-budget porno audition. Everyone was half-naked, sweaty, and way too comfortable with public groping. I sipped my beer and judged silently. That guy over there with the tiger tattoo on his pec? Probably compensating for a tiny dick. The one in the corner making out with two different men at once looked like he’d peaked in high school and never moved on.