I recently had lunch with my friend Anderson, who was telling me about a sexy, dominant, daddy top he met in San Diego at this year’s Gay Pride.
“I always hated when a guy would say something like, ‘I want to breed your boy pussy,'” he said. “I don’t even like it when they call me ‘boy.’ I’m not your son, and I don’t have daddy issues. But this guy—I’ve never wanted to drink someone’s piss so bad. He fucked me in an alley outside this bar. When I left in the morning, he made me walk naked to my car. None of that is me. But the next weekend I asked if I can see him again. He told me only if I begged him. So I begged.”
Jeff Leavell 