In the muggy heat of Savannah, I found myself on a solo adventure again, eager to explore the city's vibrant nightlife. My journey led me to a legendary drag show, where the air was thick with anticipation and the promise of untamed desires. I had dressed the part, wearing my assless underwear with a removable pouch for my cock, ready for whatever the night might bring.

Before the show, I had met a charming married couple on a hookup app, and we decided to meet up there that night. As the show began, the drag queens took to the stage, their performances a mesmerizing blend of artistry and eroticism. The crowd was alive with energy, and I could feel the eyes of strangers lingering on me. The night was filled with whispers and flirtatious glances, and I reveled in the attention.

During a break, I excused myself to use the restroom. As I stood at the urinal, I caught the eye of a striking black man standing beside me, I lowered my pants just enough to show off my assless underwear. With a mischievous grin, he stepped closer, and to my surprise, he pushed me against the wall and lifted my leg. He then pulled out his cock and, with a swift motion, thrust into me. The sensation was intense, sending waves of pleasure and shock through my body. As he fucked me, other men in the restroom watched, their eyes filled with lust and curiosity.

The man behind me gripped my hips tightly, his thrusts growing deeper and more urgent. I could hear the muffled sounds of approval from the others, their eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before them. The room was filled with a mix of heavy breathing and the occasional grunt, each sound heightening the intensity of the moment.

I felt my cock straining against the confines of the pouch, the snap finally giving way as I grew harder. The black man noticed, his pace quickening as he drove me closer to the edge. I reached down, stroking myself in sync with his thrusts, the sensation almost overwhelming.

Just as I was about to come, he pulled out, his cock glistening with my juices. He turned me around, his eyes dark with desire, and pushed me to my knees. He grabbed my hair, guiding my mouth to his cock, and I took him in, tasting myself on him. The other men watched, their breaths ragged, as he fucked my mouth, his grip on my hair tightening with each thrust.

As he released his load, painting my face with cum, another man quickly took his place. He bent me over a toilet in one of the stalls, his cock already hard and ready. With a firm grip on my hips, he thrust into me, his pace relentless. "You would look cute dressed in drag," he whispered, his voice low and husky. The thought of it only heightened my arousal, and I pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

The men outside the stall watched, their eyes wide with anticipation, as the man behind me fucked me with increasing intensity. The sounds of our bodies slapping together filled the small space, the stench of urine and sweat mingling in the air.

Suddenly, the door to the stall burst open, and the married couple I had met earlier stepped in. Their eyes were wide with excitement, and they quickly joined the action. One of them took a position in front of me, his cock hard and ready, shoving it straight into my awaiting mouth, while the other positioned himself behind the man who was already fucking me. The train began, each man taking their turn, the sounds of their grunts and my moans filling the room, their cocks widen my hole with every stroke.

The sensation of being filled by one man after another was overwhelming, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body. The men took turns, using the cum from the ones that bred me, their cocks varying in size and thickness, each one pushing me closer to the edge. I could feel my cock, now free from the pouch, straining with need, the precum leaking from the tip.

As the last man in the line fucked me, I could feel my orgasm building. With a final, powerful thrust, he sent me over the edge, my load spilling onto the floor, mixing with the cum from the others. I collapsed against the wall, my body trembling with the intensity of the experience.

But the night wasn't over yet. As I knelt there, catching my breath, the men surrounding me began to unload their cocks onto my face. One by one, they stepped forward, their hands pumping their shafts, their eyes locked on me as they sprayed their cum across my cheeks, my forehead, and my lips. I could feel the warm, sticky fluid dripping down my face, mixing with the sweat and the tears of exhaustion and pleasure.

By the time they were done, there were seven to ten men standing around me, their cocks glistening with the remnants of their releases. I looked up at them, my face and shirt covered in cum, and they smiled down at me, their eyes filled with satisfaction and a hint of pride.

As I made my way back to the hotel, the cool night air did little to ease the warmth of my skin. I walked with my head held high, the cum on my face and shirt a badge of honor from the night's adventures. The streets of Savannah were quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. I savored the memory of the erotic escapade, a smile playing on my lips as I drifted off to sleep, feeling the lingering sensation of the night's wild encounters. This was only the first night of my trip, and I laid there dreaming of what the rest of my trip would bring.