iBLASTinside

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... He messaged me. Shocking, I know. After several years of hoping, wanting, even begging a porn performer or two to let me fuck and breed them, Draven Torres messages me out of the blue. Now I’m not so presumptuous to think everyone knows me and he didn’t. He had no idea of this online persona. And, mind you, while this incredibly beautiful specimen of manliness does escort, he did not hit me up for cash. He saw my cock and wanted fucked. Hey, everyone gets horny. I went over. First, he is better looking in person. Now that’s odd to saw considering just how fucking hot he is in his photographs, but photos fail to relay how a smile can literally light up this guy’s face… or the room. He’s got a hint of deviousness with an underpinning of pure, smoldering masculinity. Considering that I’m 6-foot-3 and he’s 5-foot-5, there’s a height difference but surely still he filled the room. When we kissed*— yes, I kissed him first*— he proved to be incredibly talented there. His full lips knew how and where to move. He moved immediately to a blowjob, although I was already fully erect, with no hesitation to take my cockhead into his throat. Gag reflex? What the fuck was that? Silky and smooth, enough pressure, indeed this man was a pro. He popped off my cock and asked a magic question: “Do you eat ass?” “Are you fucking kidding?” I responded. And he presented me with his absolutely perfect mounds with the darker pucker. I dove in, tasting the sweet perfection of his hole. He began to groan. I pushed my tongue deeper as his asshole began to grip at my hole, begging for it to move deeper. I sloppily dove in and made room, slobbering it up with my spit and making him open and ready. Until I couldn’t wait any more. And I mounted up, positioning my cock at his hole, covering his deeply inked body with mine and beginning to insert my cock. Draven knew how to work it. Tightening his sphincter and then relaxing, letting a little in. This proceeded until I was buried. He had twisted his head around and kissed me deeply, licking the taste of his ass off my tongue. Over the course of the next hour, I would fuck his ass in a variety of positions, coming so close. Until we ended up in this position again… me mounting his back and thrusting inside him. This porn god begging for my cum and finally, in this tight hole, me unleashing a ******* of cum. Draven Torres is one of my top 10 fucks in my life. Not because he was a porn star. That has absolutely nothing to do with it. His skills are well beyond porn performances. He is a good human being. A great fuck. If you ever happen to catch him in your town, hire him. * * *** * * * * *** * ** Draven Torres on BBRT Draven Torres on RentMen.com Draven Torres on Twitter Draven Torres on Facebook [h=4]What people are searching to find this page::[/h] feed me meth and turn me into a gay slut (1) gay ass tumblr (1) treasure (1) More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... “I’ve worked really hard to become undetectable,” he said. “I just can’t let anyone cum in my ass.” I’m sure he was working those t-cells at the gym. I’d already been fucking him for 15 minutes, my raw cock in his ass, when he suddenly dropped this new bombshell. Why the little fucker seemed surprised my status wasn’t disclosed on BarebackRT.com up until this point in our hook-up baffled me. We’d been chatting for more than two months and he’d aggressively pursued me, largely due to my blog. How he wanted my “creamy load” in his ass. Of course this was only chatter. He’d promised to treat me like a “king,” his exact words and promise to me. I’d found him attractive and tolerated the first couple of snubs to my preferences. He’d been riding my cock and with pretty good talent. I’d had better. He was just 26 and hadn’t learned how to milk a cock well. He also couldn’t sync up with my thrusts. But being that he was 5-foot-5-inches and 110 pounds, I had 10 more inches and 120 more pounds on him. That meant his ass was tight. I’d cum in him. His toned, Latino body certainly made me interested. I like the more exotic men, after all. The bombshell came when I asked him to turn over, as I was ready to breed. He’d already made it clear that he preferred riding my cock. But when I insisted, he got all “frightened” about taking my load. Mind you, I didn’t help matters. I have this tendency to say shit that’s not exactly nice. And he got me started. He’d already been on the track with some patently taboo topics that turned him on. We’d been asking each other questions, each more twisted than the next. “Do you have a mutated virus?” So I’m all in the “talk dirty” mode and I’m thinking we’re still in this when I just blurt out, “Yea man. Want my fucking strain?” “Is it resistant to…” and he names his HIV medication. Now I have no idea what medication he’s talking about. But there’s a distinct chilling effect going on. “Naw man,” I said. “It’s cool. Turn over.” “I don’t think I want to take your load,” he said. I explain it’s just talk, but he’s made a decision and me, with a leaky cock, is left with no place to put it. Now this little fucker should have tried to clarify where he stood on which and what he wanted up his ass long before I got up his ass. Within five minutes, I was out the hotel room door. I’d thought about turning his ass over and fucking him anyway, but he’d been the second man in two weeks to do this to me. I’d not quite gotten around to fucking the first… a blond guy who begged me to breed him when I arrived in town. I arrived in town. I sent him a text. And just before his designated arrival time, he sent a text to admit he’d never barebacked before and just couldn’t go through with it. Well fuck. I’ve just about had it with these blue-ballers. Maybe I should bottom. At least I know I’d deliver. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... What is the difference, I was asked just a few days ago. If one were to breed an ass or seed an ass, is there a difference? I imagine that spilling the seed upon the ass or squirting a load all over the ass crack could, technically, be considered seeding but not breeding. Of course, I simply inject my cum on the inside*— except when I’m getting a massage at this time. I’ve not inducted my massage therapist yet. He’s an innocent and I’m allowing him time to marinate until he gets to the frenzy where he must take that load inside his ass. I have no doubt it will happen. Having the patience to will a bottom to sit on your cock raw takes time. Some bottoms haven’t discovered their natural proclivities to take that cock and ride it. They haven’t yet uncovered the will to serve. It’s my job to show them toward that destination. My cock shows the path. My cum paves the way. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I am turning 47 and that is fucking scary. I’m on that downward slope to 50. My fucking isn’t on a downward slope, though. Sure, I can’t cum in an ass 12 times a night. I made it four times about a year ago (he was a special bottom). But when I shoot, I still shoot plenty. Not too long ago, a massage therapist was jerking me off and I stopped him just in time. A massive amount of what I can only call “pre-cum” came spilling out. Before I actually shoot, I always have a this massive shot of spooge. Sometimes I time it right, shoot it and allow it to be my lube for a time before injecting my actual load. My massage therapist is brand new and I’m learning he*loves my cum. He’s always amazed at how much I shoot and now I was teaching him how my body reacts to stimulus. Over the next 10 minutes, I let him edge me. He was fascinated as the white stuff just continued to spill forth from my cock. Then I went for my load, which added to the gunk already massed in my belly hair and shot even further on. It’s rare that I see my loads any more. I always inject them in some hole. This new therapist is giving me an opportunity to train him on the best ways to please me. He’s doing well. I know it satisfies bottoms. I hear from them all the time how much I shot. It disturbs me a little when they tell me it’s running down their leg as they drive home. Even when I bottom, I have the awareness and control to keep the DNA inside me and maintain it until it’s gone*— absorbed by my body, so that the man who I allowed to fuck me is forever integrated with me. I enjoy the fucking. It’s getting better all the time. What I’m disappointed in seeing among the bottoms is a lack of dedication to the craft. Cleaning up (and out) isn’t all one must do. I get some of the most satisfying cums from a massage and that’s because the guy knows how to hit my buttons. I wish bottoms would attempt to satisfy a top that way. Sure, offering up an ass is great. But working at finding each spot that turns a top on is perfect too. It’s rare to find a bottom who doesn’t do the porn scenario. Suck cock, spit on hand, lube ass, sit on cock. Lick my balls? How about my ass? I still stand amazed at my boy in Philadelphia who could suck my cock and lick my balls at the same time. His tongue was so long, he could almost tickle my asshole. He wanted me to be satisfied and feel good. He WORKED at it. Yes, I know you bottoms who want the top to take control. But I like bottoms who anticipate my needs and goes for it. I’m 47. I’m not dead. It’s official. I’m in my prime. Bottoms. I am starting a national tour. In the next three months, I am visiting the above states. Get ready. This prime number wants to fuck some ass. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... [h=1]A ‘Top’ Asks for Advice[/h]Hey there Mark, Sorry to bother you, sir. I’ve been friends with this boy since we were kids and we are both gay. Well I’m gay and he is bi, he says, I think he is just addicted to sex. We fool around and stuff but I want more. I always take him out to eat because he can’t pay rent. I always buy him clothes for job interviews even though he can’t hold a job. He is too young and dumb, he flunks out at school. When we go to bars, guys lie to him all the time and he believes them and fights with me even though I feel like I am the only one protecting him. (When we were 16, a group of forthysomething guys online invited him to a conversion party with him as the “guest of honor. He was going to go until I Googled what “conversion party” meant, then he didn’t go. That’s how dumb he is.) I am annoyed because I feel like he owes me his pussy. I feel like I have put in the effort and I want what’s mine but he won’t bottom for me sober and he INSISTS on condoms. Just typing that makes me mad. I hate condoms, but he knows that and thinks I’m a whore. He gets way more action then me and he always leaves the bar with a different, masculine top*(I am surprised they all adhere to his no bareback rule). I don’t mind sharing his hole at all. In fact, the more the better! I just want in it. Anyway, you are a true inspiration and I am hoping you have some advice for me, anything helps! Frustrated Top, Tony in Minnesota [h=2]Answer from Mark[/h]Tops are never “owed” ass. Tops take ass. Nut up. Why are you taking this pussy’s bullshit? You’re not a top. You’re worse than a pussy-whipped straight guy. This little fucker is getting it raw. He’s a little demanding, bossy bottom and he gets away with it because no one has the balls to put the fucker in his place. He needs fucked and bred. But you’re not the man to do it. It’s time you admitted the truth. You’re a fucking bottom. Oh, I know it hurts a little when the cock slides inside. But you’re all weepy and lovey-dovey over a piece of ass. And you haven’t owned it. You do not have the capability or the instinct to be a true, natural top. It’s time you gave it up and started training your ass to take it. Fuck, if you were paying for all my shit, I’d play dumb, coy and forbid you from fucking me raw. It keeps you chasing after me. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I don’t like meth bottoms. Sure, they’re insatiable bottoms. Sure, they want my cum. Sure, they beg for it. Sure, they can take a fucking. They chew. They move too much. They’re just plain a fucking mess. No matter how much I tell the fuckers I’m not into the Tina queens, they’ll show up. I’m traveling again and I had a beefy fiftysomething man with some nice nips on BarebackRT. My profile on BBRT clearly states “hell no” on drug use. And for some reason, I think on a Tuesday night with a mature man, I’m safe. The smacking begins as soon as he’s naked (and he’s stopped sucking). Maybe he took his teeth out. I can’t stand the shit. I pretend to cum quickly and send him home. Yes, I fake orgasms. I go to bed unsatisfied. If I wanted drugs to fuck me over, I’d use them. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Dear Bottoms: I think there’s been a little confusion of late. Maybe the tops who you’ve found have been a little too nice, although I’d probably attribute it to the fact they’ve been sucked into the heterocentric sensitivity training of taking care of the wife or some other bullshit. Or maybe there’s too much of the Housewives of Wherever-The-Fuck on TV, showing the women getting all uppity on their men. That or some queeny, bitch-ass bottom started a movement that they’ve got the hole so they get to be large and in charge. As I’ve been communicating with a few of your compatriots who want cocks and cum, I’m getting these demands. I’m being told*— not requested, but ordered*— to provide certain items. These include but are not limited to the following: Face photograph Full body shots Videos of me fucking Recent paperwork showing my HIV and STI/STD status In most if not all of these cases, the bitch who’s making these demands is not providing any of these to me and, for the most part, gives me some line of bullshit that he’s “assuming all the risk.” If I could reach through the Internet lines and grab you by the balls, bend you over and rape you lubeless, I would. Additionally, I am getting a lot of feedback with which the precision a bottom wishes to be fucked. One said that I must only fuck him on his back, I must kiss him and, of course, he wants me to pull out and cum on his face. In all of the preceding cases, I have declined to fuck them. While I might entertain an occasional request from a bottom, that ass and body is there for my pleasure. If the bottom gets something out of it, good for you. I rarely give a fuck. But if a bottom seems particularly receptive to my fucking, I’ll be glad to make sure he gets to cum. Good news is if I’m really enjoying myself, often the bottom will just cum on his own. Here’s a little reminder of the 11 Commandments for a True Bottom. These were written by a bottom for all bottoms. If you have a problem with this, please do me the kindness and fuck off. Otherwise, I look forward to hearing from you. Mark Bentson aka iBLASTinside Twitter @iBLASTinside BarebackRT Profile E-mail iBLASTinside@gmail.com More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Some of you don’t give a shit about this internal raging debate. I wish I didn’t need to write this posting. The Bareback Brotherhood is a movement formed out of the necessity of confusion. What does it mean to be a barebacker? Can one be a serosorting, monogamous-only cum-hound? Or does being a barebacker mean bug-chasing, stealth-advocating, anonymous fuckers only? The answer is yes. And no. To bareback means both, all of the above and none of it. Whatever one thinks about barebacking, you’ve limited yourself. When we formed the Bareback Brotherhood and I coined the hashtag #BBBH and phrase, we did so with the understanding that it was for the freedom of that very sense of what it means to be a barebacker. For far too long, the safe sex Nazis had defined fucking as a plastic barrier between men. We needed to remove the barrier and show that men could choose another path. That choice was one that men could make. It says so on our website: “We agree on one thing — sex between men without barriers is natural and a legitimate choice. As consenting adults, skin-to-skin intimacy should be a choice that is not demonized or marginalized.” The Attacks of RawTop RawTop runs the website BreedingZone.com, which has carried an RSS feed of my blog and many other bareback bloggers. If you visit BreedingZone or RawTop’s blog, one is bombarded with porn advertisements, which he says are a convenience. On Sunday, RawTop e-mailed me and told me he’d purchased BBBH.com and planned to build a hook-up website to compete with BarebackRT.com. In exchange for my (and other BBBH cofounders endorsement), we’d get free “recognition and enhanced memberships” on the site along with t-shirts. I entertained the notion. I’ve made no secret that the cyber attacks*have continued on this and the BBBH website has cost me time and money I *simply do not have. At the same time, though, RawTop posted on BreedingZone that I’m “so focused on stealthing” that it’s tainted the BBBH brand. He told me he’d need to write very clearly on his hook-up site that stealthing it was a position he did not advocate, he didn’t like and that he would separate himself and the “brand” from me. While I couldn’t give a shit about what RawTop thinks about me, what I didn’t like was how he would take the #BBBH and begin to define it. In other words, RawTop would begin to restrict what it meant to be in the #BBBH movement. Despite*his own BreedingZone includes strings of conversation in “The Backroom” for gift-giving and bug-chasing that includes a lot of stealthing content. Some Barebackers Will Not Be Welcome at BBBH.com Would RawTop prevent bug-chasers or gift-givers fr0m joining? The answer is yes. I suggested that RawTop turn BreedingZone.com into a hook-up site rather than attempting to take over the #BBBH brand. He wrote me: “All the bug chasing discussion on Breeding Zone turns off a lot of people. It’s a bit tainted in that way – too many people don’t want to be associated with bug chasing so Breeding Zone can’t effectively be turned into a hookup site.” In other words, if you advocate certain positions, you will not be welcomed at BBBH.com. That directly opposes the founding principals of the #BBBH. It is for this reason I cannot advocate, endorse and, in fact, I must oppose the development of this website. The #BBBH is all encompassing when it comes to skin-to-skin contact. What next? No Poz barebackers allowed? Would one be required to submit proof of one’s status on the new and improved BBBH.com to have an enhanced profile? Maybe only neg guys could see other neg guys? Perhaps RawTop could connect directly with local labs and get a CD4 and viral load count so Undetectables won’t mix with Poz. Maybe we’ll check your meds. RawTop Wants Your Money “To be clear – I make my money off the bareback community,” he wrote me. To be clear, I don’t make any money off the bareback community. If you’ve logged onto BBBH.me, you’ll notice I’ve got a complete hands-off approach. I also don’t write about stealthing there. There’s no ads there. The Bareback Brotherhood is one without restrictions, without plastic, without barriers. And RawTop is putting them in place. He is saying that certain people will not be welcomed on his new site, although I imagine his greed will eventually allow him to accept the funds from them before he kicks them to the curb. The #BBBH Cannot Belong to Him As I explained to RawTop, BBBH is a movement like Occupy Wall Street. It has custodians, sure. We are here to make sure no one profits from the movement. A porn company recently contacted me, asking if they could do a video named #BBBH. I explained to the producers, each of them could be members of the #BBBH, as could the actors. We’d welcome that. But a video of that name would prove limiting to the ideals for which the Brotherhood stands. The producers respected that and did not name the video. This is just one example of many to set a precedence that the #BBBH cannot become the solely owned hook-up domain of RawTop. I Did Not Want This This is where I supposedly “threatened” a lawsuit. I just suggested that he might do better to invest in a different effort, not taking the brand built by so many brothers using our hashtag. RawTop moved this debate into the public forum. I didn’t.*I do not relish this battle. No one wins when the bareback community battles. Just because I don’t want the #BBBH to back a commercial venture against BarebackRT.com seems bizarre. I can hope that RawTop steps back and thinks carefully about his impact on the overall community rather than how to line his pockets with more. As he said, “To be clear – I make my money off the bareback community.” To be clear, I don’t. Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.What people are searching to find this page:: bbrt tumblr (1) More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Occasionally, I get e-mails from my readers asking questions. With permission, I answer them here. I love your blog and your stories. I’m a versatile and sometimes get fucked and sometimes do the fucking. I since I’ve hit 30, I just really couldn’t stand using the condoms any more. But some guys insisted. Then I found your blog. And read all about the whole stealth thing. I get your point. You wrote about it as a warning to guys but you know, a lot of people are dumb and all. I had to get the cum in my ass and I needed to breed too. I made lots of condoms with pinprick holes. I always had condoms on me. Fuck, I even had friends ask me and I gave them away. I’ve left them around sleazy gay bars. I finally got a poz test, which doesn’t bother me at all. Barebacking is a hotter experience now. Now I really think I’m breeding a guy and it’s taking hold. My viral load is high. Man, I’m toxic, with millions swimming in me. I’m trying to decide if I want to go on meds or just continue to fuck my way through the world for a while. But I’m having second thoughts about stealthing or slipping one of my special condoms on a top fucking me. What would you do? * The question is where you meet these potential fucks. There’s this hideous gasp among some fags that an anonymous hook-up should be an honest exchange of information and despite the numerous dishonest exchange about age, weight, etc. prior to someone’s dick going in someone else’s mouth, it’s some sort of cardinal sin if a condom isn’t used. Never mind how we kill ourselves with crystal meth, smoking and booze. But those choices are addictions and diseases while bareback fucking is wrong, wrong, wrong! In my opinion, you should go on meds. Anything to keep more bareback fuckers fucking, I’m in favor. It’s between you and your doctor how aggressive *you want to be with the millions of friends you’ve got swimming around inside you now. (And for any chasers, let me know who you are and I’ll consider sharing my toxic buddy’s info with you — with his permission — share his with you. You might want to include a pic.) When I stealth, it’s usually a place like an adult bookstore or sex club. I was just there the other day and the fucking bottom I slipped my cock into pulled me out and insisted I wear a condom. He didn’t provide one, mind you. I needed one. I provided one. And he got a nice ride out of it and I got what I wanted. Interestingly enough, he kept checking to see if the condom was on, so I couldn’t rip it off. I didn’t need to do so because the fucker missed the point. You want to be “safe,” you control the scene. I brought my own “condoms,” *which in the darkened room he couldn’t see each one lacked the full tip (not just the pinhole prick you use). Guess what fucker? You were loaded! Now this little tweaker, who was in a darkroom and never saw me or anyone else who fucked his hole. If I know what goes down in these*dastardly*places, I also wasn’t the only one to stealth that day. Let’s discuss the logistics of the whole thing. The guy I fucked was a slut. And while there’s plenty of DNA evidence in his ass, who’s to say the condom didn’t fail or, despite my words here, he didn’t give me a condom that was broken and I was the one duped. As we both know, that’s a possibility as well. If you’re inviting men over to your place and fucking them at your house… well, that’s just another story. I’d personally never use the broken condom bit in private one-on-one condom bit. That said, I have (on occasion) not honored the request to “pull out” in a timely manner. If the bottom is stupid to let me inside to play, I’m going to finish the game and score the touchdown. Truth is, most of the time they end up begging for it there anyway. I’d also be a little careful about distributing sabotaged condoms. Anyone to simply pickup free condoms and expect them to work are stupid, but your fingerprints are probably on them and, well, I’d hate for some vengeful faggot to track you down (and in your city, they would). After all this chatter, let’s boil it down: [h=2]Yes, Do…[/h] Fuck raw. If the opportunity presents itself, fuck raw. Go on meds.* While you’re toxic, seek out chasers and gift.* Stealth in sleazy places where bareback sex is the norm. Stealth as a bottom. [h=2]No, Don’t…[/h] Distribute sabotaged condoms anymore anywhere.* Stealth as a top in one-on-one hook-ups Best of luck and enjoy your new status. And don’t let the Aryan bastards get you down. I love the occasional questions, so please send them along to iblastinside@gmail.com. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... For some reason, Inserection*proved to be a little busy that day. I’d been sucked by a few men. None stood out. He’d been running a little late. But eventually showed up and we secured a glory hole across from one another. He sucked me some then slid his ass onto my hard cock through the hole. The initial entry can always be different. Has he been fucked prior and opened up? That can be a very smooth, easy entry. If the cock was huge, then we’re talking about hot dog down a hallway smooth. Sometimes I don’t get enough friction to get off. Then there’s the ones who are tighter than an unfucked preteen before the priest molestation. That can be painful, especially because my cock stands rock-hard and I can allow someone that tight to slide onto it. With his, he’d messaged I’d be churning up a load already deposited a couple of hours earlier. That said, he’d be tightened up. But his ass started with that resistance to entrance then began to open enough to allow my head to pop inside. His ass hugged my cock. Tight. And like a velvet wrap of warmth with the cum-soaked interior, I felt him back onto my cock. After he had enough time to adjust, I began my assault on his ass. But it felt just too good to let myself cum too quickly. And I just wanted to get a little deeper. When he came off me and I felt a tap on my cock. I pulled out and bent over, thinking he’d invite me to his booth. “Want to go to the darkroom?” The darkroom was just that… a darkened room with some sofas around the edge of the room. One couldn’t see very well in the space, just shadows, really. Since Inserection had decided to lock the rooms upstairs and charge for their use, the darkroom gained in popularity. Unfortunately, some asshole will occasionally come in and turn on their cell phones to get a glimpse of what’s going on. Once, a man even punched someone for it. But I was fucking someone and didn’t bother to pay attention much. I went in behind him, my pants barely cinched up around my hardon. Interestingly enough, he didn’t go far into the room. Right in the doorway, with the best of all possible views (with the light that filtered in), he dropped his pants and climbed onto the semi-sofa and presented his ass. I opened my pants and aimed for his hole. The entry this time was perfect. Just enough resistance for perfection in pleasure. And I began fucking in earnest. Slowing down some. Speeding up. Pacing myself. A crowd formed around us. I felt hands on my ass, even around my asshole. But no one dared step behind me, lest it dampen what little light came in. Occasionally a hand would venture down to check and see whether I was wearing a condom. Of course I wasn’t. I bent over, he arched up. “You want my load?” I asked. “Breed my negative ass,” he responded. An odd response. This bottom hadn’t bothered to discuss status. “You want my jizz, no matter what?” “Give it to me!” “You got it.” I stood and began really fucking him, pounding him into that sofa. He started breathing harder. “Here’s my fucking load,” I growled as I felt my balls tighten up. As I normally do unless I’m stealthing, I plunged in and completely stopped moving for the initial pulse of my cock. My cockhead swelled in his tight hole. As it did, he inhaled and gasped. My taint muscles then let loose the first giant pulse and my cum jetted into his guts. He started to practically scream. I resumed my fucking, feeling my cum mix in the creamy Santorum already mucked up in this bottom’s ass. The crowd surged closer and one old troll lost his load on the floor. Obviously, the bottom shot all over the sofa thing. He would tell me later he’d never felt anything like it. “That’s why I’m called, ‘iBLASTinside.’” Other men pulled at me to fuck them but, for the moment, I was satisfied. I left, headed home before the traffic got too bad. [h=4]What people are searching to find this page::[/h] gays geting pozzed tumblr xtube (3) gay men in bookstores (1) thick dick stealth breeding tumblr (1) More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... While I have not been able to post it, I have bred. And often. My Chicago trip saw three receive my juice, which I still intend to record here about two as both were worth the marking*— one a loaded Latin, as I mentioned in an earlier post. The other a cheating cub, away from his hubby on business and taking loads from strangers. I’ve bred four or five others during the blur of my travels. Most are anonymous. Some know who I am but most don’t and I don’t give a fuck one way or another. My notorious blog does give way to allowing me access to ass, which I appreciate. I’ve also had the lovely honor of loading up an escort who’s decided to try out Atlanta for a time. This adorable (and honestly sweet) young man offers up his ass and appreciates a good fucking. If you’re in Atlanta or the northern side of town, hit up*SubBtmEscort on BarebackRT.com. I hope to get him to open up for one of my more detailed conversations as a bareback escort. And if you hire him, please mention me. In fact, just say “hi” thanks to me. I’ve also fucked at Inserection at Cheshire Bridge, the adult bookstore with some of Atlanta’s best gloryholes. The comments on my Inserection page are correct: The place now charges for the rooms upstairs. I find this is a good thing. Too many meth-head asswipes were abusing the open rooms and flopping upstairs, sleeping off their highs. Now you find sex happening downstairs and more fucking. I’ve bred more thanks to this push downstairs, especially through gloryholes. Just yesterday, I actually ended up in a booth with a former Marine*— at least I am guessing he was former. Gosh, more than any other branch of the service, those guys just love getting it up the ass. And this one did too, taking my load with gusto. [h=2]All this said…[/h]While I’ve written all this, I do think things will need to shift or change. I haven’t figured out exactly how. Do I mean I’m settling down? Not at all. I can’t. I need to spread my seed. I always will. But I also need a better resource of ass. And although I’ve craved to help pass on the skills I’ve learned, I still haven’t found someone dedicated enough to mentor. I pass the time. Waiting. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I am an ordinary guy and a big ole geek. I never proclaimed myself to be anything more or less. Okay. Maybe I am a stud. And I don’t mean a stud in some amorphous sense that one looks at a hot guy and goes, “Damn, he’s a stud.” I also don’t mean the term you might find in some urban dictionary where it refers to a general bad ass. I am the animal kingdom version of a stud. Definition: “An animal retained for breeding.” Those who give me half a chance to get hard and shove my cock into their hole realize two things: 1. This guy has a very hard cock. 2. This guy knows how to fuck. Given time, a third thing happens. 3. He breeds. Knock on wood*— primarily, my own*— that’s what happens. My blog here makes no secret of who I am and the type of person I happen to be. I should work out more. I’m not hugely fat. I have one tattoo. I wear geek glasses. I am not stud looking. Imagine my surprise when this fucking brainiac arrives at my door and says he’s confused who I actually am. Apparently, he’d confused me with some of the porn images on my website. As he explained*— in trying to leave and not have to see me naked*— he’d assumed I was the beefy, tattooed guy who was fucking on my site. Now I went through the last several entries. For the most part, all the porn stuff is labeled. So let’s say the dumb ass can read (but after chatting with him a bit, I’m not sure about that). It leaves us with the escort entries on Chris, formerly of Detroit, formerly of Orlando, now I think he’s back in Detroit. This means genius-in-muscles actually thought I was a bottom who was going to fuck him. I didn’t fuck him because he wanted a pass. And who am I to rape the unwilling (and someone who’s six-f00t-six and got enough muscles to break me in half). Truth be told, I got this beautiful, muscular Hispanic man with a gorgeous ass who came preloaded with two other loads that gave his ass this tangy taste! But that’s another story. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... You can’t see them. You can’t touch them. You just knew that one moment they were there and the next, they were gone. Is it a mystery? Some phenomenon worthy of Bigfoot, the Bermuda Triangle and what pills Paula Abdul takes before going on air? Probably not. I call them #CloseGhosts. And I’ve recently had close encounters of the plentiful kind them on recent travels. With the conviction of a serial killer who proclaims his innocence, these lovely bottoms in far away cities and town lurk upon websites (like BarebackRT.com or this blog), Twitter or other online hook-up destinations, assuring traveling a top when he arrives in their town, city or other geographic region that an ass will be ready to fuck at his demand. Alas, a phenomenon occurs when that top arrives and is in close proximity to the bottom. The cum dump vanishes into thin air, often with some wispy excuse similar to “the dog ate my homework” or “the check is in the mail.” [h=2]Case #1: London Twitter Twink & the Quickening[/h]We all know that London is notoriously known for all the ghosts that wander its streets and waterways, its old buildings and strange little alleys. However, having had men upon men beg me for my load for years, I figured one might be legit among them. My BBRT exploded. I had more than 300 messages at one time and maintaining control of it via my iPhone came close to impossible. One gentleman who seemed legit got pissy because I’d not responded to him immediately upon arrival in town, so he crossed himself off the list. The rest where the normal lot. I waded through them all, trying to invite someone over for a breeding to my centrally located hotel near the West End, not far from Trafalgar Square. Too far. Apparently, Londoners go to bed early on Bank Holidays and weren’t interested as I attempted to find someone to fuck about 21:00 to 22:00 (that’s 9 p.m. to 10 p.m. for us bloody Americans). Then a tweet came in from a twink. How’s London, he asked. I replied. It became a conversation of sorts that moved to direct messages and a bit more privacy when I mentioned my trip would be so much better if I had an ass to breed. “I can help you out there,” he said. “I’d love for you to load my ass. Big fan of your blog.” He asked when I was leaving. Told him this was my last night. I asked where he was. He said, “Covent Gardens.” Boom. That’s the neighborhood I’m in. I’m over at the… I listed the hotel. Pause. Double pause. “Oh, it’s too bad I’m not at home tonight. I’m staying with a friend in the country.” Poof. [h=2]Case #2: The Early Alabama Bird Misses the Juicy Worm[/h] I’d started on BBRT with this hottie and turned to text messaging. We were getting ready for some good fun, all planned out in Alabama. I’d let him know that it would be a late arrival for me and he’d told me we’d have “several hours” of play. I’d even arranged a nice corner room, away from everyone in the hotel, because I had a feeling this fuck might get a bit out of control. I don’t usually trust bottoms. Bottoms in general are not trustworthy. But I’d grown to trust this one. I arrived just after 9 p.m. and texted. No response. Another text. No response. Around 9:30, I get a response saying he’d fallen asleep. Then, “he didn’t know I was going to be so late.” Late? It’s 9:30! We’d been setting this up for a month. The shitty little cocktease went on to berate me for almost an hour about being “late.” Of course the little fucker didn’t get off so easily in this from me. Obviously, he loved the chase, but actually fucking… well, I’m guessing his balls hadn’t quite dropped yet. My timing was never the issue. POOF [h=2]Cases 3 & 4: The Revolutionary Missing Men[/h]In this history-rich part of America just north of Boston, finding fuckable asses aren’t easy. I knew this. I planned for it with a backup ass. I found them both and, as it turned out, both claimed to want it. One said he’d be online on BBRT. Te other asked me to text. My #1 choice, the textable ass, got a text. We pinged a bit before I asked him to come over. Pause. He then, for some reason, told me his actual location. In Maine. And invited me over. Baffled, I asked what was up. “I don’t have a car,” was his response. Now it wasn’t as if both of us were in downtown Boston. This little hottie claimed in the middle of bumfuck Maine, he had no transportation, after knowing I was visiting from out of town. WTF and POOF Back-up plan into action. Logged onto BBRT. Sure enough, he was there. Message. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait longer. And more. I’m tired. Just go to fucking bed. POOF. This ghost responded when I was no longer close, in Boston, about to fly home. [h=2]Just the Four?[/h]No. I have so many more stories. But these are the four most recent. I did debate divulging Twitter names, BBRT handles showing a photo or two, but I’m going to leave it alone. After all, these #CloseGhosts could be #Catfish for all I know. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... If you’re reading this day of publishing, I’m still in Chicago and looking for ass. Hit me up on BBRT (iBLASTinside) or via e-mail (iblastinside@gmail.com) and don’t make me beg for your pics.* * ** ** ** * It’s strange I’ve never made it here*— at least that I recall. I’m sitting looking out my hotel window, trying to drown out the din of the streets below. This is one fucking loud city. I’m 15 stories up and the noise is still deafening. I could have been on a higher floor, but I got this one because I wanted a king bed. Fucking is always easier on a king bed rather than two doubles. I always prefer king beds. Prior to my arrival, I set up my posting as being in Chicago and BarebackRT.com lit up. In fact, I made the front page of BBRT as a most-viewed profile. It grew impossible for me to keep up with everyone pinging me with OINKs along with other questions. Please fuck me. Breed me. Shit like that. It still amazes me the number of people begging to be bred. Too many of these backwash assholes offer crappy profiles with blurry photos from 15 years ago, yet they’re still unflattering. Me, breed your ass? Naw, I’m good man. I even saw one guy send me a pic of cum and shit leaking out of his ass. Not a good combination. Now I’m someone who believes if you’re going to fuck an ass raw, there’s bound to be some shit every once in a while. But never on purpose. Somehow, in the midst of all the fucking noise, I did manage the connection with the ass shown in this entry. I texted him when I landed and shortly after checking into my hotel, he arrived. With a kiss, he stripped and went to sucking my cock. Slut. Just the kind of bottom I like. Before long, I was fucking him. I flipped him over and rode him until I shot a huge load into his ass. If he told it accurately, his fourth of the evening. When I rolled off, he stuck a finger up his ass, pulled it out and tasted it. “MMMM,” he *said. He then sucked my cock clean. We had a nice deep kiss and off he went into the night. Now I’m looking for ass number two. I’m thinking something a little tighter, smaller… not so beefy. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I turned 46 this year. Apparently, it’s one of those watershed moments in a gay man’s sexual career. I’ve had them before. When I turned 31, it happened. Suddenly, the immature men in their youthful twenties weren’t interested in IMing me on AOL*— hey folks, this is before the wide open world of the Internet. I know most of you kiddos missed that whole world where we didn’t hook up without hook-up sites, apps and Craigslist. It occurred again at 36 when I no longer met the 19-35 threshold. And now I’ve skipped beyond 45 and suddenly, everything ancient is new. We’re into begging territory. Daddies aren’t asking me to fuck him. Grandpa is. I get more pleas of “please fuck me” from men in their sixties than ever before. It’s not that I won’t fuck a man born in the 1940s. I will. But let’s get a few things out of the way. Don’t ask if you don’t mean it. Begging me to fuck you when you’re 100-plus miles away doesn’t do shit for either one of us. I’m pretty much tired of the message when there’s no fucking way you’re coming to Atlanta and I’m surely not dragging my ass to Timbuktu, South Africa. My answer now is just to ignore the dumb fuck or answer, “Okay. Come on over.” Don’t lie. Recently I did choose to fuck a child of the 1940s, but he lied, lied and lied again. He sent a bogus photograph (granted of another man in his early sixties) who had an incredible cock and a decent body. But he also said he didn’t smoke and, bingo, dumb ass, I smelled it the moment he walked in. I also enjoyed the fresher smell as he left the building. Don’t let this give you hope. If you’re old, chances are I won’t fuck you. Look, I know I’m fucking old. That’s the thing… we’re both old. But I’d much rather fuck down than fuck up. Since this is a top world, I get to pick where I plant my seed and it’s still in a tight young ass. Speaking of which, I’ve got some advice for you old farts. Gravity is not your friend.*Look sweetie, if you’re going to take a picture of your saggy ass, I appreciate the honesty in advertising that you shoot that shot with you standing up. But when those ass cheeks look like they’re swinging at the back of your knees, we’ve got a problem Houston. Lie down and hire a professional photographer to re-position those cheeks into place. Hemorrhoids do not build character. Maybe you do want to show off that cumload spilling out your ass, but three loads spilling out do not make up for the bulges around your pucker that look like you’ve had out-of-control Botox injections. Tuck that shit inside or simply don’t send me those photos. Grooming costs money, but it’s worth it. Look, at 46, I can tell you I’ve got hair growing out of places I never thought I’d have hair. I fucking hate that my stylist doubles as the waxer for my earlobes. But my cute, young thing earns an extra twenty for ripping that shit out. And that strange pubic puff at the small of my back? Well, let’s just say, no one has to see that, even though the only people seeing my back are massage therapists. All that said, stop the madness. You want fucked by me, be honest, upfront and nearby. More...