Fucking my way through the City of Love
For the sake of preservation, this thread endeavors to recreate the legendary Tumblr blog str8guys4fags2serve. Written by a young God Alpha named “Jake”, its bluntly honest revelations form the bedrock of Hierarchical truth found on this website and all others. I thank Master Jake for sharing his wisdom. This thread is a tribute to you, Sir. CLICK HERE for all of these posts in chronological order!
Ah Paris! My first visit was fucking awesome.
Taylor’s girlfriend Marie Claire also is a fashion model – actually a runway model – which is kind of a highly stylized bitch, kind of like a human greyhound. She’s gorgeous, but horny as fuck. She married this French aristocrat fag, maybe 25 years her senior. Before their wedding weekend was over, I had them both.
On Friday, the day of our arrival, we checked into our grand suite in our hotel and I spent the afternoon boning the very-luscious Taylor. I had her in the luxurious, super-king-sized bed, on the floor in the living room of our suite, and in the bath. Then we rested up, slept a little, Taylor nursed on my cock. Then about 8:00 pm, we dressed and met the bride and groom to be for dinner – the four of us: Taylor and me and Marie Claire and her husband to be, Jean Claude. I knew instantly, that Jean Claude was a fag. He quickly proved my instinct correct. Taylor and Marie Claire “repaired” to the ladies’ room to freshen up, and I suspect, catch up on the fashion industry gossip before dinner. I decided to head to the Mens Room to wash up and Jean Claude was right behind me. Once in the Mens Room, he slipped to his knees and without saying a word reached for the fly of my pants with this pleading look in his eye. I nodded. Jean Claude unzipped me and instantly, his nose was pressed against my pubes and his throat was massaging my cock. I let the fag work some for that first load. Later in the evening, after dinner, and before the brandy and cigars, he got a second load up is tight little aristocratic ass – in the same Mens Room.
Saturday was wedding day, and Taylor and I showed up at the hotel where the wedding too place plenty early. We were milling with the crowd at a cocktail reception prior to the ceremony when I slipped away to find the toilet. Walking down the hall, a door to a room opened and a young woman (who I later learned was one of the bridesmaids) stepped out on some errand. Through the open door, I could see the bride to be Marie Claire, who beckoned me in. “Quick,” she said as she lay back on a couch and lifted her elaborate wedding gown. She pulled me down on her and eagerly unzipped me and grabbed my cock and guided it into her cunt (as if I didn’t know where to put it). She wasn’t even wearing panties or a g-string or any underwear.
I swear, as she walked down the aisle not 15 minutes later, a spot of my cum was visible on the front of her wedding gown.
The bride and groom were warm hosts at the post-ceremony dinner. They each separately and together invited Taylor and me back to spend some time with them this summer at their villa in the South of France. I’ll be looking forward to that.
