He would find a fag online and chat him up.  It would not take long before the fag would want to meet up. Usually it would happen just after he sent a picture of his massive white trash cock to the fag.  

He would then set up a meeting at the rest stop on the highway. It was public enough for the fag to feel secure in meeting him at 2:00am, when no one else is around. He found that the toilets were the perfect setting for the first time he used a new faggot.  It subliminally put the faggot in his place. The squalor of it, the smell of urine, the possibility of another man walking in on them, all of it heightened the sense of danger and dirtiness. The fag was there to serve him as a warm hole to fuck, nothing more.  This was not a date, it was not romantic. It was a hook up for the purpose of draining his balls.

He liked putting the fag on his knees on the stained tile floor, making him suck his cock out in the open, where anyone could walk in and catch them.  Then he would make the fag crawl into a stall and bend over a toilet. At which point he would punch his spit lubed cock into its cunt, listening to its screams echoing off the tile walls. It was such a turn on. From that point forward the fag would always associate public toilets with getting his hole pounded.  Every time the fag walked into a men’s room and smelled the disinfectant and piss, it would get a hard on.

And if, by chance, another man would enter the room while he was plowing the fag’s ass open, he was happy to share.  He would adjust the position of the fag, so that his face was pressed up against the glory hole in the partition between the last two stalls. The fag would have no choice but to open his mouth and take the strangers cock inside, getting spit roasted by two anonymous cocks. 

He would fuck him hard, and after around forty five minutes, he would dump his load of creamy baby makers up into that fag’s now stretched out and loosened cunt. Once he completed his breeding of the fag’s hole, he would force the fag to clean his cock off, zip up and walk out, leaving the fag on the dirty tile floor covered in jizz.

Nine times out of ten, he would receive a text from the fag before he got home, thanking him for the fuck and asking if they could get together again in the near future. It was always the same, the worse you treated the fag, the more likely it was to ask for more.