iBLASTinside

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I haven’t gotten ass yet. I ended up going to the adult bookstore**briefly today for lunch. But what happens today makes me laugh. The lunch crowd got pretty heavy and the bottoms were few and far between. In fact, I’d been in booths but men had expected me to suck. None were so inspiring for me. Around 1 p.m., he walks in. He turned out to be probably an 8½ on the scale of 1 to 10. Now seeing good-looking men isn’t unusual. However, when hitting the gloryhole scene, they usually scale it down*— wearing a baseball cap or baggy clothes. This guy didn’t. About five-foot-eight, broad shoulders, a perfectly fit athletic shirt showing off great pecs and an obviously good chest overall, his sunglasses on his perfectly coiffed hairstyle, freshly shaven and*— well*— perfection. What a fucking mistake. Now I’m not much of a slouch. And while I’ve got a bit of a geekish look and appeal, I fuck well. In the crowd at the moment, I’d earned a spot among the upper crust this day. While you had your size queen bottoms who didn’t have the patience to get me hard, I’d be able to get a decent choice. Now that was blown to hell. As the*8½ wandered around, a conga-line of men followed him, trying to act like they were not following him. Sad really. I didn’t feel like hanging around until he got off left, so I headed out before traffic out of Atlanta would get too bad. But it’s funny the whole mentality of places like an adult bookstore. First, the*8½ wasn’t packing*8½ inches. He probably had 6 inches at the most. Second, he was searching for something specific. My guess? He had some Jungle Fever and wanted African American. And he was hoping to gag on a cock. Third, you can tell at a glance who’s into you and whether you have a chance. I knew I had no chance and most men who followed him*— especially the little white boys and old trolls*— wouldn’t even get to see his nipples erect through his shirt. But for the next 20 minutes, the whole place was preoccupied where*8½ went. And I watched everyone else not get any for everyone else hoping for a taste of something no one would get. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Travel Diary, Day 19: Latino Guido My journey to the Sunshine State lacked a lot of sunshine. I attempted to see if I could use Twitter... Taking the Ass of a Tennessee Boy We'd been texting for a couple of months. Every once in a while, he'd pop up, begging me to come vis... Sometimes, a Top (Like Me) Gets Used Imagine my sense of luck as I wandered into the darkened space and we locked eyes. I noticed him. He... Travel Diary: The Bisexual Booty... But Basically Bad One of my favorite ads (and one of the most popular to get responses on Craigslist) is one calling f... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I’m getting too fucking old for this. As I mentioned (and no one seems to want to read *since the stats show only a few people have checked it out) I’ve been focusing on getting out of my job situation, so my attention has been focused elsewhere. However, I decided Wednesday evening since I’d be downtown for an appointment that it would be a convenient time to hit the adult bookstore Inserection and get a load out of my system. Now, I was especially frustrated because I’d had a massage from a fucking hottie. He was naked. I was naked. He teased me for the hour, bushing against my balls and cock and all my erotic spots. When it gets to that moment for the happy ending, the massage ends abruptly. I didn’t get off. He didn’t get a tip. I knew Wednesday nights were not ideal at Inserection**but usually I can find some ass. Since I would be in Atlanta anyway (I live in the far northern suburbs), I figured it would be worth a shot. To improve my chances of ass, I always post an ad or two to Craigslist and BarebackRT.com**to let bottoms know a top will be at Inserection. Sometimes it works . And often with these posts, I’ll get messages from people asking that I skip Inserection and come to their place instead. [h=2]Sent away by a bottom[/h] I get the usual assortment of messages. The old, ugly and overly used (Grade F Asses*). A few interesting ones do show up, including one from a 28-year-old bottom. We get to texting and he invites me over. He mentions he’ll be on his back deck. It’s early evening and not quite dark. I expect though it’s an enclosed deck and he’ll be ass up and waiting. I drive the three miles and pull up to the house, pulling into the driveway. I can clearly see the back deck where a man*— obviously in his mid-40s*— is standing. He’s not horrible looking or anything. I get out of the car and there’s that awkward moment. He comes down off the deck. As the awkwardness continues, I finally say, “Am I at the wrong place?” “Yes, you are,” he says. “Sorry about that,” I say, knowing I’m at the only home with this address with a man with an iPhone texting from a back deck. “Thanks for stopping by,” he says as he shakes my hand. [h=2]Attempts at the adult bookstore[/h] I get in my car and drive to Inserection adult bookstore, pay the $11 admission and begin cruising. The crowd appeared thin and a few too many familiar faces walked among the groups. Also one of the worst cruisers is there: A man who slaps on a little makeup, a cheap wig, a bad blouse, panties, pantyhose and high heels. *I*hesitate*to call it a drag queen or a cross-dresser due to the horrible effort put into looking decent. There’s no effort. I don’t mind it’s a slut. Some guys are into it. That’s cool. But not me and it’s too aggressive. Anyway, as I’m walking around, I eye an older man who’s big and bulky with big muscles wearing a tight t-shirt with protruding nipples. (Oh, and he’s got a wedding band.) He reads to me as a bottom. His cock is obviously small. He’s not going for any gloryholes. He wants his nips worked over. With guys like this, their nips are the gateway to their ass, I know. We hit a booth together. His shirt was up as I went to work. I’m great at nipple work; it’s one of my specialties. I had a boyfriend years ago who could cum just from my nip work. Within moments, I’ve got his four-inch cock rock hard. He’s groaning from all my nip nibbling, chewing, flicking, licking, twisting, contortion, punching, teasing, tickling, pulling, brushing, pinching and other manipulations… *both hard and soft. He’s got a bit of stink to him, which really isn’t my thing. I’m moving my hands (when they’re free) to his ass. I am finding his asshole, which is dry but puffy. He either has*hemorrhoids*or he’s been fucked plenty. But he hasn’t been fucked today. As I poke and prod, he moves his ass away to prevent too much work. Seems like this one isn’t going to work out. He bends down to suck me. He does well, but not so*irresistibly that I feel like I could cum from his blowjob. I thank him for his work and zip up. About then, I get a text message from the supposedly 28-year-old bottom. “ETA,” he asks, which means, “Estimated time of arrival.” You can see our exchange on my iPhone. I’d sent him a photo of my cock which barely showed my goatee. And my stats clearly stated in my ad that I was clean-shaven. But he’d ignored that. I didn’t bother to point out that he obviously wasn’t 28 years old. As we texted back and forth, him begging me to come over, me looking for ass among the dregs of humanity at the adult bookstore, soon a balding Asian began eyeing me. Now we all know I have a little something for the more exotic among us. As I stood upstairs by a vacant room, the Asian passed me and closed the door. But it didn’t lock. An unusual technique. Normally men step into the room with the door open and eye their object of interest. I opened the door. He stood in the dim light, playing with his nipples through his shirt. I stepped into the room. He pulled up his shirt. His alabaster, perfect skin revealed, delightfully smooth with very nice pecs and nickle-sized nips just protruding out. But as soon as I flicked them, they stood erect. His cock, a respectable five inches, never really got so hard. And his ass, so nice and smooth and bubbly. I stepped behind him while still working his nips. I felt his asshole, his pucker perfectly dry. He didn’t pull away. I spit on my cock and aimed it at his hole. He was much smaller than I was. I took again his nipples in my fingertips. This man preferred the light touch and I knew how to really work them that way too. I did it in a way he’d enjoy. All I needed him to do was arch his back a little so his asshole would line up better with my cock. As I continued, with my wet cock tickling his*sphincter*and pleasuring his nips, his ass never moved. But he jerked intensely and he breathed heavily. He was getting close. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to get someone else off if I wasn’t getting what I wanted. I dropped everything. Pulled up my pants and was out the locked door. He didn’t even have time to pull down his shirt or pull up his pants. He stood there exposed, wide-mouthed as I walked out, the door wide open. He recovered after a couple of beats and closed the door. The texting continued with the bottom. He wanted to know when I shaved the beard off (I’m interviewing for jobs, so I was told to shave it off by a few recruiters; plus it just looks nicer during the summer). I wonder around and get a couple of attempted blowjobs but no ass action. One guy even asked me to piss in his mouth, but no ass. [h=2]Back to the bottom[/h] Finally I decide to head back over to fuck and breed the bottom who earlier turned me away. I drive up and this time, he’s a bit more welcoming. He meets me and we step up onto the deck, but go inside the house. It is between now and the next 20 minutes that I should have left because it’s that long before we start doing a fucking thing. He first has to prepare a daybed. It’s got something like 30 pillows on it. Then he can’t find the remote to turn off “The Voice,” which is blaring on the television. He keeps searching his closet for something*— for what, I’m not sure. He also refreshes his drink. Then he gets lube*— petroleum jelly*— an unusual choice. Finally he’s ready. All through this, he’s chomping gum. And I mean CHOMPING it. I’m suspecting Tina use, but maybe it is just gum. But he is darting around his place like a crystal meth user cleaning. But I also noticed that drink is a pretty strong alcohol, so I’m guessing he’s a little buzzed. When he finally gets on the bed to suck me, he takes breaks to work his jaw. No gum. He’s tweaked out of his*gourd. He can’t suck for than a few seconds without pausing in order to work his jaw. I’m afraid he’s going to bite my cock off. That fear drives me to take control. I put him on his back. He puts some petroleum jelly on my hard cock. “That’s a big one,” he says. “I’m not sure I can take it.” I’m rubbing some jelly into his ass. I probe it a little. As my fingertip works past the sphincter, I touch the tip of something. I touch the tip of a small turd. Yes, a turd. “I’m really going to need you to use a condom,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got some condoms.” Now he’s saying this as I am touching a turd and using petroleum jelly. This guy must know he’s not clean but he’s also a complete idiot since*petroleum jelly breaks down a condom*. But I’m horny. I’m fucked sloppy holes. At least his isn’t nasty. I position him up, putting his legs over my shoulders. I don’t ask. I just put my cock at his hole and put it in. It breaks in. It’s not pleasant. The small, hard turd moves toward his prostate and becomes a rough rock scratching against the underside of my cock. *He’s trying to resist me, but I keep pressing forward. “What are you doing?” he says. “Fucking you,” I say. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you,” he says. “You don’t have to be mean.” “You’ve done nothing but jerk me around all day,” I say. I begin fucking in earnest. I try to aim down to get that turd out of my way. But that little hard piece of shit won’t move and I’m more and more afraid it’s actually going to scratch my cock and add fecal matter into a wound on my cock. I can’t focus on fucking. He’s chomping a lot. He’s jerking. He’s moving too much, squirmy even. It’s all not working for me. As horny as I am, that’s all I can do. I’m not going to be able to cum even though I’ve got something like two weeks worth of blue balls. I pull out. “This isn’t going to work,” I say. “Huh?” I begin putting on my clothes. “Oh,” he says. “This is revenge for me turning you away earlier.” “No man,” I say. “You’re not clean.” Then the dude does the craziest thing ever. He sticks his finger in his ass, pulls it out and sniffs it. “I’m fine,” he says. “Believe me,” I say. “You’re not.” He disappears into another room. In a couple of seconds, he returns with a white towel, wiping his ass. “See,” he shows me a clean white towel. “My ass is perfectly clean.” “Look,” I say. “You’ve got a small, hard turd right up against your prostate. It’s scratching my cock and making it uncomfortable to fuck you. Beside that, your working your jaw on Tina is driving me fucking crazy. I hate fucking with tweakers. You have a nice one.” He stands there shocked and naked as I walk out the door. I go home. Blue balls. Still. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Coincidental that I’m rereading the Frank Herbert classic Dune and experiencing a dry spell at the same time. Truth is I could get more ass if I tried but here lately, my focus as been finding another job*— not that any of you give a shit about my mundane life. If you want to read about sex, go search some sex term or skip to another entry. [h=1]Help Me Find a New Job[/h]For those of you who don’t know, I’m in marketing with a digital emphasis. I can do it all and am at a senior level. I’m just about ready to jump into a vice president role somewhere. If you know of anything out there, please let me know*. My career includes extraordinary work and let’s just say I know what I’m doing (after all, I am the man who established the #BBBH hashtag on Twitter). This blog is about my sexual escapades and I wouldn’t mind working in the sex industry or along the fringes. That said, I never have and I enjoy working in a more traditional medium. In fact, I’ve worked in computers, electronics, media, healthcare and manufacturing. If you’ve ever heard the overly trite phrase “thinking outside the box,” I don’t even see a box. My creative ideas take great risks and almost always come with phenomenal rewards. Some of my results were so astounding that the manufacturing company for which I worked had a six-month backlog after a two-week promotion I ran. The company also went from no presence in social media to first place in its marketplace in less than a year. Other highlights of my work… Strong branding development and strategy throughout my career. (Obviously) terrific writing, communication and adept at presentations (PowerPoint, Keynote, etc.). Built multiple mobile applications for smart phones with fun and practical applications to further the brand. Integrated the use of QR codes in retail point-of-presence materials and print advertisements. Built and launched more than 500 websites —*from tiny sites to blogs to personalized, database-driven, mammoth sites; always made sure those websites work with mobile browsers on tablets and phones; many websites are content management system-based and I’ve trained personnel how to best use the website. Developed international websites with multiple languages using automatic detection of geographic location for best possible visitor experience. Provided guidance through the basic discovery and design process including information architecture and search engine optimization (SEO) for websites. Created strategies, especially for online growth. One consumer website grew from 1.1 million to 2 million visitors in one year using a combination of SEO, search engine marketing (SEM), microsites and social media. Trained thousands of retailers in online marketing techniques to further their relationship with current consumer trends, bringing more consumers onto websites and into stores, significantly improving sales. Developed and executed massive campaigns with multi-tiered aspects utilizing several third-party companies and hundreds of personnel successfully. Ran public relations efforts including national satellite media tours. Cast television personalities as spokespeople for brands*successfully, maintaining multiple years in developing television commercials and online presence. Developed YouTube channel for brand that now draws more than 300 viewers every day only two years after establishment. Created unique social media approach taking a company from non-existent*to first place in its marketplace category in about six months. Flawless execution of events and convention, maintaining branding and delivering excitement. Creative SEM and online advertising including conquesting and other strategies to best deliver new potential customers. Developed web and social media syndication systems for major brands to help allow multilevel messaging from corporate to local. Integrated all digital marketing aspects with traditional advertising for maximum boost to any campaign and seamless unification. Okay, maybe that’s plenty to highlight my work. I’ve done a lot in my career and I’ve got a lot more I can do. [h=1]Sexual*Harassment*Positions Welcomed[/h]You want to be my boss and get my cock and cum on occasion? I don’t mind. I’m glad to provide. We can be colleagues and I’ll even fuck you. I’m someone who doesn’t let sex get in the way of work. In fact, it would be great to have an on-site fuck or someone I travel with on occasion and we can fuck around together or just be each other’s wing-man. I’m also willing to move practically anywhere in the U.S., Canada or the U.K. for a job. I’ll consider other parts of the world like Australia but not sure about non-English speaking or intolerant parts of the planet like the Middle East (for some reason, a lot of marketing jobs seem to be opening up there). Still, if it’s the right opportunity and the right fit, I’ll take it. [h=1]Now, Why I’m Looking for a New Job[/h][h=3]Venting Here, So You May Want to Skip This Part[/h]You might recall I was out of work for just three days short of a year when I finally got this job. A position with much promise and a fuckload of travel including visits to the San Francisco Bay area. That part I loved. However, promises made to me were not promises kept. Here comes some venting… something I really can’t put anywhere else. My direct supervisor is not well liked among colleagues, although the C-level seems to approve. All of those colleagues — to whom I had responsibilities*— made my work a living hell since they dislike my supervisor.*One of my staff members appears to have had an inappropriate relationship with my supervisor and therefore refused to report to me. Despite gallant efforts on my own part, I could never seem to get the management group to align with any concept on the most basic level. This meant that I couldn’t get all the managers to agree to a single branding message. I made superb headway with the company website in a short period, increasing qualified visitors and*decreasing*a lot of the folks who came by mistake. The company purchases a lot of Google pay-per-click ads and I’d made significant headway in improving those results, making sure the clicks resulted in legitimate, potential customers rather than wasting between $2.50 to $14 per click. Before I arrived, some months more than 90 percent of the monthly online ad budget was wasted on bogus clicks. In two months, I’d gotten it down to less than 53 percent and it was dropping further. Despite this*empirical evidence, all the managers began freaking out when less people were clicking through*— even though each click turned out to be a more qualified person. In other words, they’d rather see 1,000 clicks where less than 10 percent would be a potential customer instead of 600 clicks where 47 percent might make a sales inquiry. Between that and the pure hatred between my*supervisor*and pretty much everyone else, and I had no chance to survive. I haven’t lost my job, but I see the handwriting. It’s funny how everyone outside the situation can see my competence and respect my skills and experience. Seems to me anyone who has two decades under his or her belt brings something to the table. Everyone within my circle of influence doesn’t give a shit. Therefore, yet another refresh on my resume and pinging all the recruiters again. Keeping my finger crossed this won’t be another 12-month ordeal since the handwriting is pretty damn plain and I likely won’t last that long. [h=1][/h]If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Big Bareback Birthday Blast Bash: Is Anyone Out There? Help make Mark's birthday a little better while he's out of work with a donation. Learn more abo... Friday Fuck: My Birthday Weekend Begins Smelly and Half-Hard Help make Mark's birthday a little better while he's out of work with a donation. Learn more abo... Where's the Gay Sinning in Sin City? As I get closer to the date for travel to Las Vegas, I've been researching and asking locals about w... Video: Gloryhole Fuck at Inserection During one of my visits at Inserection*, I'm able to slide my cock into a lovely smooth bottom throu... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Welcome to iBLASTinside’s Bareback Loading Zone, the place where readers and fans of iBLASTinside.com send and post their own tales and adventures. These are all true and told to Mark who occasionally massages the writing a little if needed. Today’s submission comes from a top named Peter from San Diego. He’s a beefy, hot blond in his twenties who prefers raw sex. He ran across a bottom he really wanted to fuck but the bottom insisted on a condom. Peter got what he wanted. The bottom got fucked. [h=1]My Very First Stealth[/h] I’ve been able to get my fair share of hookups even though I’ve turned down a few on occasions because they wouldn’t let me fuck them raw. Recently, I was very intrigued when I heard that there was still a way to bareback a guy even though he’s requesting a condom. I found out exactly what stealth *is and what it entails through a friend who has done it many times. Once I learned some of the techniques, I decided to practice, practice, practice *before doing the real deal on an unsuspecting dude. One way to break down a condom is to leave it out in the hot sun, put it in the freezer, and then take it out into the hot sun again . I combined this technique with using a pin to poke a hole in the condom while it was still in its wrapper . After a series of practices, I finally felt comfortable enough to do it for real. I made contact with a hot stud who insisted on a condom. This fit guy in his mid-twenties with brown hair stood about five-foot-ten and a tight 150 pounds. He was a little hairy and nicely tanned. I told that’s not a problem to use a condom and I will bring one for our time together. I get to his place and we exchanged pleasantries. Soon we were both naked and kissing each other. I showed him what I brought: A condom and a pair of handcuffs. He smiled at me and just said, “That’s kinky.” I turned the stud around and cuffed his hands behind his back. I pushed him down to his knees and came back around in front of him. I started to facefuck him with intensity to get my cock wet from his saliva. After my cock was rock hard, I told him it was time so I pushed his head to the ground with his ass sticking up. I took the bottle of SpunkLube *and generously used a lot on my cock and in his asshole so he would hopefully not feel my cum inside him later. I made it a point to show him the condom in its unopened package. I then shifted right behind him where he couldn’t see me and tore the wrapper open. I quickly placed the special prepared condom on my stiff cock. With the preparation of breaking down the condom, it was fairly simple to tear a hole so that the head of my cock was sticking out through the broken condom. I was able to do it fast enough not to raise any suspicion from the stud. I teased the stud by tapping my cockhead onto his tight opening. Naturally, he thought there was a layer between my cock and his asshole. I asked him if he was ready for me to give it to him just like it is and he said, “Fuck yeah.” I started to pound his hole slowly, but gained momentum and force with each thrust. I can tell he was enjoying it thoroughly, but I must admit it felt foreign having something around my cock like that. We fucked for about 20 minutes in several positions with his hands continually being cuffed behind his back. I never took my cock out of his hole while shifting around as I wanted to make sure he didn’t see the altered condom. When we were facing each other with his ankles over my shoulders and my cock deep in him, I leaned onto him so he was basically doubled up. I grabbed the back of his head and we started to deep tongue kiss for a few minutes. After the romantic interlude, I shifted him back to the doggie position so that his head was back on the floor. I was getting close so I started to jack him off while I was pounding him. He wasn’t able to touch his own cock because of the cuffs. With the stud in front of me and unable to see, I finally took my rock hard cock out of his ass just to check it out. It was a very unique sight to have the condom cover only the shaft of my cock and not the head. A few seconds later, I reinserted my cock into his ass. I was trying to time it so that we would both cum at the exact same time in which he would be much less aware that I’m blasting inside his guts. It was working as I could feel him getting close and I was only moments away. The stud tighten up his sphincter muscle and he started to release his load while I was jacking him off. In unison, I started to blast inside. It was such a fucking hot feeling of not pulling out that I continued to fuck him for awhile with my cum mixed in. We were both spent. I left him handcuffed for a few minutes longer as I jumped up and went to the bathroom. I threw the condom into the toilet and flushed it down with my piss to remove any evidence. I came back into the bedroom and planted a deep kiss on his lips while holding the back of his head with one hand and his cuffed wrist with my other hand. He reply that it was one of the hottest scenes he’s been in. I smiled and winked. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... 'Sleazy Atlanta Guide' Under Construction When fellow #BBBH Brothers and even others visit Atlanta, they often ask where to go and what to do.... Travel Diary: My Welcome Load in Vegas Arriving in Vegas is always an adventure. This time, it turned a little bumpy as, believe it or not,... Virtual Words and a Vibration Nothing more than the feel of vibration. The notion of an arrival of a text message. Your stomach ge... Travel Diary: A Little Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Memorable It's funny how things don't work out the way one plans. I arrived in Key West on a Wednesday nigh... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I’ve never really gotten political here. It’s all about sex. And I’m not about to start. But all this talk about rape, legitimate rape, forcible rape and all the rest has just gotten me so.. well… hot and bothered. I never thought I’d end up really thinking the Republicans agreed with me on social conservative policies but, damn, we’re onto something. Apologies or not, if women can’t get pregnant from “legitimate rape,” I’m wondering what they’d think about a little illegitimate rape. You know, a little dick up the ass kind of stuff. After all, I’m sure the life of the mother isn’t in danger because, fuck, there isn’t a mother! We all know they prefer keeping the zygote alive, so that’s basically saying to everyone to please, please, please bareback and go for it. In fact, I’m all for what Clayton Williams said. The former Texas*gubernatorial*candidate and current financial supporter of Sen. Scott Brown (R-Mass.) said, “Rape is like bad weather. If it’s inevitable, you might as well relax and enjoy it.” This is a call to all the folks in Tampa on BarebackRT.com, Manhunt, Adam4Adam, Craigslist and all the other hook-up sites in Tampa, St. Petersburg and everywhere else around the Gulf Coast of Florida. You’re about to be invaded by horny Republicans. Fuck them. And I mean that literally, not figuratively. Get your cocks off in their ass. Push that cum up inside them. If they just want a blowjob or a handjob, tell them that’s what you’re going to give them then get them into your clutches and hold them down and FUCK THEIR ASSES RAW like God intended. I’m sure their bodies will shut down and prevent infection of whatever you’ve got in your cum*— if anything. In fact, I think you should invite a few friends over to fuck them. Be sure to tell them they might as well relax and enjoy it. Don’t abort any of those nice cummy babies. Keep it alive inside of them. That’s the only way to be sure we prolifers give them what they need. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #8: Fat Boys So I mentioned I've moved, which now has put a damper on my sex life. Thankfully, a few DVDs and web... Travel Diary: Bathhouse Success Fucked a cute little Latin and a muscular Asian. Bred the Asian. More after sleep. A Modest Proposal... to Read Mason Wyler's Blog Please, take a moment and read this post from Mason Wyler on his blog:*http://www.wylernation.com/20... Become a Better Stripper, Go-Go Boy, Waiter, Bartender, Stylist or Anyone in the... Do you work in the service industry —*sexual or otherwise? You can be a bartender, a waiter, a massa... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... After my debacle of a day*, I needed ass. That simple. Ass on the brain. I’m on the constant hunt. I never should go with desperation. Thursday night, I’d been tempted just to jack off*— a personal policy I’d promised myself I’d avoid, opting instead to insert all my cum into bottoms. When Friday rolled around, a solid week had passed since my last breeding. That’s unusual for a guy used to breeding three to four holes on average every week. Again I searched and ended up with a last resort choice. It wasn’t until I pulled up at his driveway did I realize I’d fucked this guy like six months prior. I’d never came back by for his stalkerish behavior, beginning me to come back. Well, that’s what I recalled. I went inside as he waited naked. I popped open my jeans and let him suck me hard. He did a slightly better than average job with that and then backed his ass up and eased onto my cock. I fucked. He tried to move with my fucking but rather than being in opposition to my thrusts, he moved with my thrusts. That meant my cock just moved a few inches rather than the full six or even seven. He never clenched down and, with the snort of his poppers, each one would cause his hole to loosen its grip a little more. After a phone call from “his boss,” who interrupted our fucking for a couple of minutes because the “wifi at work went down,” I resumed the fucking, snorted my poppers and blew a load in his ass. Rather than an intensity and feeling of relief, it felt more like a sneeze. My cock came out and he licked it clean. He commented it seemed harder than ever. “Oh, it stays hard,” I said. And while that’s true, my cockhead isn’t usually flared after I shoot. I was unsatisfied. I’d shot a load because I needed to do so. Had this guy been anywhere close to good or hot, I’d stayed and fucked him again. Fuck, if his ass could have gripped my cock with some decency (and he had porn that wasn’t from 1988), I’d got off again. But instead, I zipped up and left. Now any e-mails from that address go right into my trash. In case you wondered, not all my encounters are great or even good. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #11: Spit Pig "You're neg, right?""Yea bud."What a time to ask. My hard cock is buried... Travel Diary: Aliens Live Here Okay, so I'm sure folks who live here are tired of hearing the stories of the aliens who live 'nea... Latino Ass at a Glory Hole... Stealthing His Ass Inserection on Cheshire Bridge in Atlanta can be a fun destination, but it all depends on the crowd.... Runner Help make Mark's birthday a little better while he's out of work with a donation. Learn more abo... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Welcome to iBLASTinside’s Bareback Loading Zone, the place where readers and fans of iBLASTinside.com send and post their own tales and adventures. These are all true and told to Mark who occasionally massages the writing a little if needed. Today’s submission comes from a thirtysomething former “safe” top. He’s naturally smooth and twink. He’s from Los Angeles and, well, he can tell his story a little better than I can. [h=1]As a negative man, I was afraid of sex. As a positive man, I embrace it.[/h]About a year ago I seroconverted. With it, the usual range of upset emotions flooded me: shock, anger, fear, disbelief, sadness, etc. But something else happened, too. Something I didn’t expect. After the dust settled and I learned the facts about my new status, my libido exploded! I was so turned on, almost all the time, especially at the thought of being fucked raw and bred. I never really thought of myself as a bottom before, so this was new for me. I also started to feel like I was really a part of the community, willing to experiment sexually and do shit I only fantasized about and watched in porn. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize just*how*uptight and scared of sex I used to be until after I was no longer shackled by my negative sero-status. Once I became poz, most of my inhibitions about sex started to fall away.*I began hooking up more frequently, offering my hole and telling guys to unload in me. I wanted to hear guys tell me they were going to shoot inside me and I was really turned on if they refused to pull out. I even set up a gang bang and invited poz men to anonymously breed me, which I have never done before.*I took six loads that night and could have easily taken twice that or more. It really felt amazing. Finally, what I didn’t realize when I was negative, was that I was now*experiencing*sex, I was embracing sex in a very bold way. Don’t get me wrong,*I’ve always loved sex. But like a lot of us, I was indoctrinated to believe that fucking will kill you if you’re not “safe.” So I never even considered to letting my inhibitions completely go; it just wasn’t an option. I could never quite resolve this deep-rooted fear with the simple fact that I love cock and cum. As a poz man, I have come to realize that at my core I am a cum-loving sex pig and there is nothing hotter to me than*feeling a guy’s raw dick inside my body. I love thinking about it, I love doing it, I love watching it, and I love hearing about it! I now find men who are sexually timid to be a complete turn off. I don’t want to teach or feel like I’m dragging anyone into a sexual experience. I want to be*joined. Fear of sex has little place with me anymore. This awakening would never have happened had I not become poz. As a neg man, I was a typical “serosorter,”* programmed to associate HIV with death. Any man that appeared to have that “HIV-positive look” (usually as a result of side effects of earlier medications and treatments) was completely off limits to me as an HIV-negative man. I realize now that that was my own prejudice because it was rooted in fear and ignorance. But I never recognized it as such, I just thought I was “being safe.” Ironically, after I seroconverted, I now find poz men incredibly hot. I am now VERY turned on by poz men… but more significantly, I’m even more turned on by uninhibited men. It’s as if coming to terms with my own mortality provoked a strong response to live. When I see that in other men, I recognize there must be some shared journey in that. I am part of a tribe now, part of a community that embraces its own. In so many ways I am relieved to have shed those HIV prejudices. I used to screen guys about their status before having sex with them. Based on their sincerity, appearance and/or my intuition, I would determine what I would do sexually —*if anything. There was always an element of unpleasant anxiety that went with it, but I never knew anything different, so I just accepted that as part of the deal. Of course there were few after-the-fact scares and I was tested somewhat regularly for HIV and stds. If a guy told me he was positive or I suspected was positive, then I would usually pass on the encounter. In the back of my mind, I truly thought I was safe from HIV. But this illusion is such bullshit and self-delusional. It’s all fear and mental gymnastics and unsustainable. So I fucked a guy and seroconverted. I didn’t intend it to happen, but ultimately I’m more grateful than not. Now I can actually relax, find*contentment and peace and ton of sexual resolution.*I am more into sex now that I have ever been before and have discovered the spiritual-sexual connection between men and the drive to fuck and be fucked…and if a guy tells me he’s poz, my dick starts to swell and my hole aches to be fucked and loaded up. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Sling Time The hallways, passageways and places for sex were, without a doubt, interesting. I'd heard of Manife... Riding for Man Gravy When a man climbs on board, the sensation can be terrific. But when the bottom become aggressive, lo... Hello Las Vegas I'm here. No bottom yet. Still hopeful... Cleaning Up After the Death of Erik Rhodes “Whatever sells tickets to the circus.”—Erik Rhodes, June 11, 2012from his Tumblr blog* **** *... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... When am I not horny? Probably the immediate moment after I shoot a load into a boy, but I recover quickly. Really, that’s not true. Part of me still wants to make sure my territory is marked. At work one day, I happened to be particularly horny. I posted on Craigslist (through my iPhone, duh) and hoped for the best. Two potentials showed up for a lunchtime pump and dump. I chose the closer of the two although the second happened to be an Asian. Luckily, I thought as I left the office and headed over, these two actually read the post and got the word that I wanted a quick fuck. We’d not had a lot of back-and-forth. Not the usual bullshit of e-mails and more pics and negotiations of what was on the table and off the table. I plugged the address into the GPS and drove over, listening to the radio and blissfully ready for my balls to unload. Driving through a well-established neighborhood with well-manicured lawns and maintained middle-class homes, my GPS announced my arrival up on the right. Like a sore thumb, the home sat on a hill, overgrown lawn. With gutters falling off and a crumbling front porch, I already seemed wary of where I was*comparatively. This wasn’t a married man cheating on his wife or a gay man’s home. I knocked since the doorbell had been punched in at some point and collapsed in on itself. The door opened and the smell of dog, cigarettes and just plain stink hit me. In in plain white t-shirt, a do-rag and boxers with sunken, heroine eyes, overly thin leg with open sores and an emotionless, hopeless expression, he invited me in. “Thanks man,” I said. “I’m good.” I assessed my situation quickly and turned around. At one point, he’d been straight, probably a straight bottom. But the years of drug abuse beginning with crystal meth led him to this place. My gut instinct wanted me to run, but it was a beautiful sunny day in a well-populated neighborhood. Maybe I’d just served a*subpoena, just walking up to the door and leaving. In the car, I punched in the Asian’s address and found it only 12 minutes away. I e-mailed him to say I was on my way. Now Asian ass is prime and the pic he’d e-mailed me looked pretty good. As I near the place, again I turn into a decent*neighborhood, although not quite as nice as the last one. Still, the lawns are nice with grown trees and middle-class houses. When I find the house number I’m looking for, I drive past and turn around in disbelief. This time, the lawn is cut. Well, what lawn there is. The gnomes, globes, frogs,*buddhas and literally hundreds of other ceramic figures lining a koi pond keeps most of the grass at bay. As I’d notified my fuck that I arrived, he steps outside to direct me where to park. I do. I try not to judge because I begin to figure out he’s a tenant in this home, as he invites me around to the back. But he’s lied about his age. He’s not 30. This guy’s face looks 50. Luckily when we step inside the basement apartment, he begins stripping and his chest and ass say 30. Asians sure maintain a body. Maybe I can keep it together. Maybe I can ignore the white-washed*decor*and the fact that he actually turns the television to “Family Feud” for our fuck time. Nothing like Steve Harvey saying, “Survey says!?” to make you want to cum, right? He tries to suck me, but I’m “too big.” I play with his ass a little. He wants to kiss, but the fucker has lied about being a smoker and I’m not kissing. I urge on to the fucking. He pulls out petroleum jelly, slathers some on my cock and his hole and begins to sit on it. Within two minutes, as I’m about a third of the way into his hole, he announces he’s cumming. I pull away, his cum still shooting on my belly. I pull the towel from beneath us and wipe off my cock and his cum. I put my clothes on and head out to find some food and go back to work. Surely, though, this cannot be how I end my day. I need to shoot. There’s been this “sensual” massage therapist I’ve been meaning to try. He’s relatively inexpensive and, based on his pics, fucking hot. I message him. He’s available just after work. To me, a sensual massage builds slowly to that moment that you cum. It’s a tease under the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing. Of course, I had to try someone new. This fucker had no idea what he was doing. Even though I’d asked whether he was a CMT (certified massage therapist), he lied also. He wasn’t. He didn’t know the muscle groups. He wiped oil on me and went for the spots he thought might turn me on. Oh I got hard. But when he flipped me over, he just jerked my cock. That won’t make me cum on its own. It’s like putting a pot on simmer. You’re not going to bring me to boil without playing with my balls and touching me sensually elsewhere. That or sitting on my cock. Now let me explain this guy was six-foot-four of Latino hotness. Smooth with the exception of a nice pube triangle and some light dusting on his ass. His crack also showed a lot of potential. And his body was like Michael Phelps, with long arms. His cock was a thick, uncut beauty. But the guy couldn’t bring Latin heat if I handed him a bottle of extra hot salsa and a Gloria*Estefan*CD. For the second time today, I grabbed a towel, insisting he step away. “Are you not going to cum?” he asked. “No,” I said. “It’s not going to happen.” “What’s wrong?” he said. “I expected it to be more sensual,” I said. “I’ve rubbed up against you,” he said. “I thought it was pretty sensual.” I didn’t respond. I paid him the minimum, without a tip, and left. The next man I fuck will get three loads worth of cum: The one he earned plus two more… one meant for an Asian and one intended for a Latin. Any volunteers? If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #7: Military Rest Stop So I've moved. If you've been wondering why I haven't written much, that's the reason.Nothing li... Travel Diary: Big D in Big D My last visit to Dallas during the summer of 2009 resulted in my first-ever view of a tornado. As ... Travel Diary: Bi or Straight? I meet up with the man from We Hold These Truths to Be Evident. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... “I’ve never done this,” he said. As he’s saying it, I’m almost not paying attention. I’m too focused on the fact that my raw cock is sliding in and out of his ass and I’m about to cum. I’d just asked him if he wanted my load. He didn’t say yes. He didn’t say no. He didn’t pull away. In fact, his act began to back up more toward *my ass. He’d been sitting on my cock since the fuck started. But this fuck was a long time coming. Probably almost two years. This smooth boy with a perfectly average build, black hair and an*Abercrombie*& Fitch look chatted on and off for a while. I never hid I was a barebacker and that I would breed him. And he never hid he was a virgin to this whole raw thing. But we’d go in spurts of chatting. Then he’d disappear. Bored at home on a Friday, I posted an ad and he responded. He used a new e-mail I didn’t recognize. But he recognized me when I responded. I asked if he was ready for my load. His response was simple: “Address?” After about 20 minutes, he arrived. We were in my bed and making out, working our way to fucking. He claimed it had been more than eight months since his last fuck. He worked his way onto my cock, sitting onto it and taking his time. He never quite made it down to the hilt. Interestingly, his cock was bigger than mine. He had a nice, hard, pointed 8-inch cock. As he took a seat, his cock began to spurt precum. I mean spurt. “I precum a lot,” he said. He seemed to be enjoying it. “Feel good?” “Yes,” he said. I just let him ride it for a while. He jerked his cock a lot. I just hoped he wouldn’t cum. I arched my back and tried to get in a little deeper since I only made it about two-thirds in, but he prevented me from really making it in far. He rode for a while and I asked if he’d gotten used to it and we could try another position. “I’m afraid if we try another position, I’m not sure you can get back in,” he said. “I want you on your stomach,” not really responding to him. I moved him to lay flat down and found his hole. I pushed inside. I whispered, “Just relax,” as my cock went inside him. Even from this position, his ass seemed to have a brutal bend that wouldn’t let me go more than about three-fourths in. I’d just have to let that be enough. I snorted some poppers. Even though this boy had been fucked before in his 28 years, he’d never been bred. And I would be the first man to deposit my DNA inside him. “You want it?” “What?” he said. “My cum,” I said, with a dramatic pause. “Inside you.” “I’ve never done this,” he said. The combination of being the first man to mark this territory and the tightness of his hole put me to the point of no return. “You’re about to,” I said. “You’re about to have cum inside you.” He didn’t pull away. I didn’t have him in a death grip. He could. But the funny thing was how his ass finally began to move back toward me. How that subtle movement told me how much he really wanted it. He’d been so passive, so quiet. But now his ass moved with every thrust. My cock didn’t go deeper as much as it didn’t need to move as much. I began to throb. The flood of cum started and I mean flood. Lately, I’ve been producing a lot of cum. His ass kept moving, my cock coated with my own cum as thrust after thrust included several shots of cum. I rested inside of him and let him continue to move a little. I recovered and offered to let him cum by riding me. We flipped over and he would put my cockhead at his hole but never ever put it inside before shooting. He wanted a quick exit and took it, but texted me several times, repeating several times how he’d never done this before and freaking out. It calmed down after a while, but just before midnight, I got the text, “Good night. Text me again when you’re free and want to fuck me again.” If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Dark Passenger, The Return: Rage I need to admit the truth. After all, I occasionally run a Confessional here and this is a space... Did I Fuck? No. No Birthday Breeding. Just Blue Balls for My 44th! Someday, when the cash is flush and the time is right*— perhaps when I turn 45*— I will get to have ... Reliable Massage Therapist Needed in Silicon Valley Okay. All this traveling has my neck and back out of whack. I need a massage therapist. I'll proba... Behind Dead Eyes (Part Two) Don't miss Part OneI stayed inside him a little longer before pulling out. Then pressed my fingers... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I just earned Medallion status on Delta airlines. It’s one of those mile-markers I’ve been looking forward to achieving. I get on the plane earlier, I get upgrades, more miles, preferred seats and other perks. I’ve been Gold and Platinum level at certain hotels. I also love it when I book events places and I earn special treatment for that. It’s great being recognized. One town that does this well is Las Vegas, which provides VIP service at many clubs and hotels for the high rollers —*also known as “whales.” These are people with money who arrive with the intention of spending money and expect to be treated with a little extra*finesse. I wish that Swinging Richards *would consider doing the same. In fact, I have a few ideas to make Swinging Richards a much more upscale experience. [h=1]The True VIP Experience at Swinging Richards[/h][h=2]VIP Concierge[/h]In the front corner of the bar, there’s a “dead” space where a large screen TV sits. A small reception desk should be put here. All VIP members should check in here. Additionally, celebrations and other special requests can register here. A velvet rope seating area in the middle section could be set up for VIP members, their guests and those who choose to pay the one-time VIP admission for the night. The VIP Concierge can also make arrangements for any dancer requests, a private dance or lap dance. As part of the service, anyone can come up and see who’s registered to work that evening and arrange for lap dances without the*harassment*or*embarrassment*of trying to find the dancer in the crowd, catching his eye and motioning him over. Providing the Concierge with your credit card, you almost never need to pull any money out. Ask for cash*— a stack of ones, twos, fives, tens or twenties*— and the Concierge can provide for you to tip for the evening. Or can hand you chips which work just like cash. It’s charged to your account at the end of the evening when you check out. [h=2]VIP Main Room Seating[/h]Part of the joy of sitting in the main room is watching the show with three to six dancers on the stage. While sometimes tables are reserved, the middle section needs a velvet rope area for VIP customers for the evening. Inside this area, there’s upgraded seating and tables, upgraded from the uncomfortable straight-back chairs. Bottle service along with top-shelf call along with a special server at your beck-and-call at all times (I recommend Jonathan, he does a particularly good job; but someone who can be shirtless would be nice). In this section, getting up to use the bathroom or visiting the VIP room won’t cause one to lose one’s seat. Your space is always yours for the evening unless you inform the VIP Concierge that you’re leaving for the evening. [h=2]Lap Dance Lounges[/h]Added in both the main floor and in the back VIP area would be new Lap Dance Lounges. These are arranged at the VIP Concierge (or at the entrance of the VIP area) and cost a little extra. Unlike normal lap dances, the patron pays for more songs, the lounges includes a slightly opaque shower curtain to obscure the dance experience and it lasts for five minutes. For only $50, it’s not quite heading into a private dance (where you break the bank starting at $140 for 15 minutes) but it’s a little more than $20 or $10 for a song. [h=2]Private Dance Experiences[/h]The pricing process is just so confusing to newbies at Swinging Richards that a flat fee structure must be instituted. Like the Lap Dance Lounges and the Concierge Services, fees for the services provided will be charged to the dancers, but the dancers have to feel they’re fairly treated. First, the private dance rooms should be gutted and reconfigured to accommodate only one dancer and one patron. This would allow for more rooms for private dance rooms as well as the Lap Dance Lounges. Standard 15 minutes: $150 (Dancer $90, House $40, Concierge Fee $20) VIP 15 Silver Experience: $200 includes top-shelf drink for patron and dancer, t-shirt or calendar, free pass for next visit to Swinging Richards (additional Concierge Fee $20) Standard 30 minutes: $275 (Dancer $190, House $60, Concierge Fee $25) VIP 30 Gold Experience: $350 includes VIP 15 bonuses plus one Lap Dance Lounge pass with any dancer (additional Concierge Fee $25) Standard 60 minutes: $500 (Dancer $375, House $75, Concierge Fee $50) VIP 60 Platinum Experience: $650 includes bottle service or four top-shelf drinks, t-shirt and calendar, two free passes for next visits to Swinging Richards, two Lap Dance Lounge passes (additional Concierge Fee $50) VIP Diamond Experience at Swinging Richards: Starting at $1,500 (Starting at Dancer $750, House $400, Concierge Fee $500) Reserved front-row table in main room; Your private, selected dancer host with you all night; Reserved private dance room for you at your selected time; Full top-shelf and bottle service throughout the night; Included Lap Dance Lounges; Optional*limousine*service throughout the Atlanta or Fort Lauderdale/Miami metro area (optional for your selected dancer to accompany you to your door); Optional reserved dinner planned prior to your night with Swinging Richards (and your dancer may also accompany you to this dinner as well). This is just the beginning to expressing the new menu of choices at Swinging Richards might work. [h=2]More Training for Dancers[/h]Some dancers know what they’re doing and some do not. If I take a shine to dancers, I sometimes help them out with the best ways to approach and how better to make things work. I recently took the time to write a little about how to improve making tip money*. The*Concierge*could help with that training, especially the ones who show the most potential. I can walk in the door and see the new meat parading about. If I give them a dollar, I’ll know within a few seconds if they’ve got good instincts to survive. Working at a strip club is not easy. If you’ve ever watched Jerry Springer and the female strippers how they get into cat fights, you ought to see what happens behind the scenes* at a male strip club. Sure, they all seem like bros, but the testosterone will get the best of them. There’s no hair-pulling, scratching or weaves flying. I even expected a little gorilla-like chest-thumping. Violence is abrupt,*fisticuffs are brutal and broken bones are not unusual. And while there’s the unfortunate things like this recent rape**accusation**that’s made the news, I think training would serve to reduce such events. Most of the problems I’ve noticed comes from over-the-top clientele who miss the mark on what it means to engage a dancer. Touching doesn’t happen until invited and if you’re a little too tipsy, don’t get aggressive. ** [h=1]A Note of Consideration[/h] To Swinging Richards or anyone else who takes my ideas and runs with it:*Ideas cannot be copyrighted. Hey, I know that. I didn’t put my ideas out there to make money (although that would be nice). But here’s the thing: Do you think I would be stupid enough to put all*my ideas out there?You’re always welcome just to go with what I suggest and adapt to your own business situation, but I’m a (get this) marketing professional who knows a thing or t wo. I’m available for consultation or even hiring .*But if you don’t want to do that, I understand. But a few VIP experiences or some other perks always makes me happy.*Yours, If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Back in the Good Old Days of Cocksuckers Aplenty Years ago, before I moved to Georgia, I had a personal cocksucker. It worked out like this. If I cou... Going Out in Atlanta I'm headed out tonight, probably to my standby... Swinging Richards... to see some hard-bodied men (... The Lies Men Tell... Smokers (Part 1) Have you ever watched the television show, "House"? Dr. House on the show offers up a kind... My Name Isn't Hansel and I Don't Follow Breadcrumbs I don't know what the fucking deal is lately with bottoms. You want fucked? Then give me your addres... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Welcome to iBLASTinside’s Bareback Loading Zone, the place where readers and fans of iBLASTinside.com send and post their own tales and adventures. These are all true and told to Mark who occasionally massages the writing a little if needed. Today’s submission comes from a 22-year-old, 5-foot-6-inch bottom. He’s naturally smooth and twinkish but prefers men in their thirties to fuck him (as you’ll read). He’s one of those party boys you’ll see out at the dance clubs with a wild, animated face, a faux-hawk and almost unattainable perfection that seems incredible. His tan body and perfect, perky nips just makes you more hungry. That’s enough about him. On to his adventure. Hi Mark, I just thought I’d let you know I stealthed *my first top! And I did it*successfully, thanks to you. I prepared the condoms like you suggested, using your trick of*moving the condoms*from a very cold*to a very hot place and back a few times . This guy was 38 years old, bisexual and married. He wanted sex safe from the beginning but he was so hot, I just had to try! I knew this was the time to experiment with stealthing! I sucked him hard, really working his cock over with my mouth. He really seemed to enjoy it. I hoped he would forget about the condom, especially when I presented him my smooth all. But he didn’t. He asked about the condoms. I got one of the ones I’d been preparing. I put it on him tightly, with no room at the tip. *I didn’t use hardly any lube. Then I laid down on my back and positioned his rock hard cock at my hole. He took the bait and went in. From my position on my back, I could watch him. Of course I could feel the cock and condom. And I knew the moment the condom popped. I noticed he paused for a moment, giving me a strange look. I figured he too had felt the condom break, but before he could say anything, I urged him not to stop since it felt so awesome and that he was about the best fuck I’ve ever had. That must have done it, since he started fucking rather roughly again after that… or maybe it was his excitement of knowing he was probably going to fill me up. He really fucked me hard and within a few moments told me he was going to cum. I urged him on and he shot the entire load in my ass. And I ended up shooting all over my chest and face, I was so hot knowing he was pushing the load into me. I was so, hot by the fact I’d convinced him to keep fucking me. After he came he pulled out and told me the condom must have broken, as it came out in pieces. He seemed a little worried.*I faked surprise and told him it’ll be okay. I assured him not to worry, that I’ve never done anything like this before, so it’ll be fine. Of course, that was a lie*— at least the not doing it part. That’s it! Thanks Mark for all you do! If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... One of the Hottest Fucks Ever I kept his picture. That's how hot he was.I never keep pictures of the men I fuck. And I have fu... Friday Fuck: My Birthday Weekend Begins Smelly and Half-Hard Help make Mark's birthday a little better while he's out of work with a donation. Learn more abo... Travel Diary: Be My Cum Dump for a Week While in Las Vegas I am seeking a cum dump for a full week.I will be in Las Vegas for a week and, like everyone els... Behind Dead Eyes (Part One) The throb of the satellite radio caused the lights to move to beat. I topped the stairs and could se... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... It’s funny how things don’t work out the way one plans. I arrived in Key West on a Wednesday night. I expected a build up of ass to peak with a*crescendo*over the weekend and a tapering off until I left the following weekend. Alas, that did not occur. Not that I was hunting for hole. In a way, I expected it to find me. I had offers, but I decided to be a bit picky rather than accepting just any ass thrown my way. Interestingly, I think the whole relaxing and doing nothing actually calmed down my hormones and made me crave ass less. Plus I got my fill of naked boys and attention at clothing optional destinations including my B&B and the nightclubs I frequented. After the weekend concluded and Monday inched along, that itch rose a bit and I realized I’d built a hefty load in my balls that needed to find a home*— and soon. Unfortunately, BarebackRT.com showed little sign of life, with Scruff and Grindr not too far behind and Jack’d so far netted me nothing. I posted on Craigslist using a generic top looking for bottom post and lucked up with a few potentials. I’d been posting on CL for a while*— mostly my “top blogger coming to town and looking for bottom inspiration” ads with little luck (except for the hot guy who’d blown me off). I got a mixture of responses, a few of which were legit among the flakes. One caught my eye and it wasn’t just the fact he was 20 years old Latino visiting the island. He’d offered his phone number early in the exchange and we began texting almost immediately after when he asked, out of the blue: “Are you the top blogger?” “Blogger?” “I figured you were,” he answered, without a confirmation. “It’s really cool if you are.” “What are my chances if I am?” I wrote back. “I’d say your chances are really good.” Within a few minutes, we were meeting on Duval Street and headed back to my B&B. In shorts, flip-flops and a Hollister t-shirt, he looked like the vision of someone from an advertisement. Smooth with very few specks to even call freckles dotting his face, he was perfectly tan and his wavy black hair just cropped perfectly against his scalp. His deep hazel eyes glanced me over as I took his broad hand into mine and we shook. He was warm — not as much in demeanor as in physically, like he’d just crawled out of a tanning bed. Our chit chat seemed almost about nothing important as we compared our lodging choices. Soon we were walking through the gate and into the courtyard. I gave a little tour of the property and we ended up in my room. With the enthusiasm of his age, he soon removed all his clothes. His body proved to be one of those not-an-ounce-of-extra-fat-or-flesh perfection. A mixture of tan and olive, his smooth skin was blemished rarely by a freckle. He didn’t contain any extra muscle either, so he didn’t pack on huge pectorals. His legs were almost hairless and he’d shaved his pubes off. His balls, drawn tight up into his cock, looked hairless as well. I moved in closer but he pushed me away. “I don’t really kiss,” he said. I tried not to seem disappointed, but I was. His fat lips seemed too inviting for me not to lick just a little. “You still suck, don’t you?” I motioned toward my cock. He didn’t answer, instead moving toward my half hardness and *moving his mouth over its delicate skin. He needed more practice but not bad. He kept his lips and mouth frozen while the bobbing of his head provided all the friction to bring me up to full mast. Still, I didn’t care. I played with the hair on the top of his head and then pulled him up and moved toward his cock. All the while I let my fingertips dance across his body until my mouth found the tip of his cock. Yes, I sucked his cock and he inflated to an impressive 8 inches. Much larger than I dared reach. And fuck if he wasn’t thick with a slight bend to the left. The impressive size seemed even more*humongous thanks to all the missing hair. Honestly, this boy wasn’t too hairy or had been shaving for a long while as I didn’t sense any prickly around his cock base. I went for the balls — a little rougher, mind you, but still very smooth. Youth, it seems, can be so very tasty. As I began to lift his legs, he didn’t stop me and I went in search of his hole by taste. My tongue found a*crevice*but it didn’t seem right. I pulled back. What I saw happened to be among the most unique sights ever. Most people have a ring around the rosie, so to speak. The external*sphincter’s fleshtone appears a little darker or lighter, depending on the man. Sometimes it’s a few rings. Not him. His skin maintained its perfectly olive bronzed tone up until his asshole, which appeared as nothing more than tiny folds like a quarter-inch crucifix. I’d never seen an ass like his. I wondered if he had any*sensitivity in his ass. As I returned my tongue to his ass, I soon discovered my answer. His thick 8-incher had been hard but very pliable*— like a dildo. But as I went to work and the cross-shaped pucker widened, his cock became more rigid*— more similar to a vibrator. Soon it grew even thicker and longer. It stood in place, attention as the most dedicated soldier. As with any 20-year-old, he hadn’t quite learned to share attention, used to the men who lathered upon him kudos on his good-looks and great body. But he took the subtle direction well as I reached for some Spunklube *and began to spread it on his asshole and use my fingertips to tease that holy hole open just a bit more. I righted myself, proceeding to poke my cockhead against the hole. “Mind if I sit on it?” he asked. “Works for me,” I said, rolling off and onto my back. My cock too was rigid and pointing at my belly button. A string of precum dangled off in anticipation as he*maneuvered*in front and slowly lowered himself. But he did so without hesitation, with ease and sat down completely to the hilt within moments. He was a natural bottom. We’d never discussed condoms and, as he’d read this blog, knew I’d bareback. He seemed at ease with the fucking and enjoyed it, but didn’t vocalize a lot. Truth is, I’m not very loud either. His chute adhered to my cock so smoothly, it was a fuck never to forget. Like a key sliding into a slot with just enough space for a perfect fit, his ass walls just seemed to fold into every skin fold of my cock. At first, he would move a lot to try to give me pleasure*— something I found humorous since the movement seemed almost robotic, just like his sucking. However, thanks to his perfectly pliable ass, it didn’t feel robotic as the skin’s friction would give way just perfectly. I soon found myself losing control of my own choice of when to cum. I suggested he relax and let me do the fucking. Interestingly, he’d read my 11 Commandments for a True Bottom *and attempted to adhere to at least some of them, even asking permission to play with his own cock. “Just don’t cum first,” I said. “I want to be sure I get to cum.” “Don’t worry,” he said. “The fucking isn’t over if I do cum.” That made me want to test it out by having him cum on my cock then letting me fuck him with his cum, but I dare not risk not being able to load this boy up. We settled into a leisurely pace and soon I put him on his stomach, staring at his hairless and smooth bubble butt before shoving my cock inside and mounting up for the breeding of his life. I snorted poppers and let myself lose control, asking him only once if he wanted it. “Yes,” he said. “Give it to me.” That one positive response was enough that I lost it in that perfect hole and began to flood it. And when I say flood, I mean flood. Since I hadn’t cum in about a week, I let loose a ******* out of my balls that soon lubricated that space between my cock and his ass walls. I pushed it in deeper. “Just don’t cum inside me,” he said. Oops, I’m thinking. It’s a little too late. As I’d mentioned, we’d been fucking very quietly so I hadn’t really done the whole, “I’m cumming,” and grunting thing. I just generally don’t make a show of it. And here I am, pushing my cum deeper inside him and he’s asking me not to cum inside him. I pretend like I’m having a build up to cum and I pull out and grunt, pretending to cum with my head on his back. As he knows about the truth now, he’s probably thinking “did I or did I not feel the splash of cum on my back?” The funny thing: As I rolled off of him, he climbed right back into my cock and rode it until he squirted. And let me tell you, he squirted all over. Some went over my head, some landed on my cheek, my chest, etc. He looked away for a moment and I tasted it, just to sample some from the fountain of youth. He’d never know. After all, we weren’t kissing. We chatted for a bit. Luckily he never put on his shirt until he left. I’d gladly have kept him there all night. But I sure as hell missed the kissing part. He asked if I would write about him and I expressed that I wanted to, knowing that I’d bred him and wondering if he’d really noticed. He requested I withhold his home state and where he was staying as well as any photos he’d sent me, which I reluctantly agreed in order for you, dear reader, to read this. The rest is basically true, most especially the part about me breeding his ass when he asked me not to do so. If he’d really been reading my blog, he’d know I always make a deposit. I don’t fuck with condoms and I don’t pull out. No matter how hot, how young or how great your ass is. As a matter of fact, the hotter, younger or better your ass, the more I can guarantee I’m going to breed it. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Travel Diary: A Repeat Customer My job takes me to Birmingham, Alabama, several times a year. On my travels here, I've found this to... Does Sperm Enhance Your Mood? Straight Surgeon Finds Cum Contains 'Mood Enhancer... A top surgeon was forced to resign from the American College of Surgeons after a controversial Valen... 3... 2... 1... BLASTOFF! 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... [h=2]The Websites that Get You Here[/h][h=4]I find this stuff interesting and I thought I’d share it for those of you who gives a shit (and might like to check out other destinations). These are the sources of referrals from other websites that come to iBLASTinside.com. This is the top 10 of the ones that send folks to my blog.[/h]My Tumblr account at Barebacking.Tumblr.com*(this was also #1 in June and May). Twitter referrals, everyone and anyone, since Twitter converts all URLs to the t.co domain (this was also #2 in June and May). BreedingZone.com,*the site from RawTop, which takes the RSS feed from iBLASTinside.com and repeats it within BreedingZone. *BreedingZone.com climbs up one from its #4 spot in June. Confessions of a Bareback Sauna Slut Blog*from Josh Landale. *Climbing two spots from June, Josh is now pulling up and closing the gap with RawTop since June. Tumblr.com in general, coming from users checking out my entries within the Tumblr Dashboard, *falling two spots. My other Tumblr account,*BarebackOne.Tumblr.com, falls into the next spot, *a slight drop of one spot from June. My “old” Blogspot website (for some reason, a lot of referrals still come through there). Same as last month. Pulling into the station for the first time is Yahoo, but not just any Yahoo. It’s people e-mailing references to the blog.* A new blog makes a premier on the top 10 list with Closet BB Cum Dump.* Finally, Reddit.com’s reader referral service earns the final spot in the top 10.* TreasureIslandBlog.com*continues its descent and drops out of the top ten *for the first time after making its debut in April when it was the number three referrer. [h=2]The Pages You Look at Most[/h][h=4]The top viewed pages for the month shows readers’ interest. In general, each visitor to iBLASTinside looks at an average of almost 3½ pages spending close to 5 minutes (long enough for a good jerkoff session). In July, these were the pages visitors looked at most often.[/h]iBLASTinside Bareback Theater*(Second month in the #1 spot.) Bareback Movie Gallery*(Second month in the #2 spot.) Guide to Gloryhole*Etiquette**(Up one spot from June.) How to Meet and Get Fucked by Mark Bentson**(Down one spot from June.) Guide to Visiting a Gay Bathhouse**(Up one from June.) Top 10 Stealthing Tips**(Up four spots from June.) *Guide to the Sleazy Side of Atlanta**(Up two spots from June.) *Guide to Poppers, Pleasure and*Persuasion* (Fell one spot since June.) Escort Anthony Taylor Gives Clients the Cum They Want *(Premier in the top 10.) Marking My Territory for Tops and Jizzjoy for Bottoms**(Down two spots.) [h=2]The Terms You Google to Get Here[/h][h=4]Here are the top 10 search terms in July 2012.[/h]iblastinside (same) gloryhole tumblr *(#5, up 3) bareback blog *(#2, down 1) glory hole tumblr *(#10, up 6) tumblr gloryhole *(premier in top 10) i blast inside *(#4, down 2) iblastinside.com *(premier in top 10) glory hole etiquette (same) bareback *(premier in top 10) gay bareback blog *(premier in top 10) If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #13: Condom Breaks It's funny how people can fill in the blanks with what they want to believe.So I'm online the ot... Meet Me (and Possibly My Cock) and Others This fall, I want to put together a "tweet-up" -- as they're called -- where I'll meet som... A Dozen Resolutions for 2012 & A Dozen Reasons Why 2012 Will Be Better Than ... 12. Porn Star Fuck...Surely 2012 is finally my year to get some porn star ass, don't you think? ... Leaving on a Jet Plane and Arriving in Oakland, CA I'm off again, this time I'll be a little closer to Oakland, CA, than in previous visits. While my s... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Meeting fans of my blog is always a little risky. There is the stalker element. I’ve been stalked before but not for this blog. In fact, I’ve been stalked twice for completely different reasons and very strange results. One was just a mental case. Literally. The other is a story I need to reserve for an entry. While on my trip to Key West, a few fans of the blog did recognize me. I’d partially hoped for a few folks who wanted to have a beer and maybe chat a little, show me the*sleazier side of town. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. Mostly, men just want a sample of my DNA. I guess men want to compare the bravado of the blog to the dick in real life. Not sure how many of those men go home disappointed or really happy. Among them was a man who messaged me first on Scruff, as you can see. I’ve altered things a bit. He popped up early in the week then went offline and practically disappeared. I began to wonder whether I’d get him. Truth be told, another man kept in touch. Or should I say “man.” He spent a lot of time not exactly as a man, although he would get fucked as a man. I’m not at all into femme, transgender, drag queens or even guys who get off on wearing women’s panties while getting fucked. In fact, I’ll let a jock slip in there every once in a while but a man-thong creeps me out. I knew it would make for a great blog entry that I’d fucked a lady-boy, man-girl or whatever you want to call it. But just having the knowledge of such made my dick shrivel. But this pig happened to be all man. He popped back up on the grid at the right moment*— my last night in town. I spent it basking in three dick dancers and a bar back at Bourbon Street Pub (that’s an entry all unto itself). I’d been offered to spend more money to get one or all for a “private party,” but what I wanted and needed was relatively simple. Pump and dump. I knew my little piggy in Key West would understand. I texted and he responded. He said he was with a “bud,” who I actually assume was his boyfriend since he indicated he needed a moment to slip out. He did. Arriving at the guesthouse, we slipped inside and found a dark corner. I dropped my trousers and he dropped to his knees, sucking on my cock immediately. He opened wide and used a lot of spit. He went to work on my balls, familiar enough to know that’s how you generated extra cream for his ass. His aggressive work was perfect for my slightly buzzed state at 2:30 in the morning. I stood him up and turned him around. He asked for poppers, knowing full well I’d have some handy. He’d been using spit to apply to his ass. As he bent over, he grabbed my cock and lined it up to his ass. I applied pressure as soon as it hit the pucker and it slid inside easily. His ass sucked me inside as aggressively as his mouth had. This piggy wanted fucked. I grabbed his hips and went to fucking. Slow at first, then sleeping up. Fucking hell, his ass chute was smooth and straight. A lot of shit tunnels bend down when you’ve got a piggy bent over to fuck. Since my cock points toward my belly, it adds a little stress to my cock. But not his. As I’ve said, every ass is different and his offered a distinct smoothness and a nice straightness to it. Despite our being semi-public, I began to fuck in earnest. I knew men had fucked in this darkened corner before and would again. I grabbed the poppers and took my hit. And then I began to slam his ass looking to relieve my balls of all the weight they’d built up over the night’s teasing. The sound of my thighs slapping his ass started to echo through the courtyard, but I didn’t give a shit. He grunted. I did too. His smooth chute just felt too perfect as I went for the final moments before allowing my load to go into him. “Want my load?” I whispered harshly. “Yeah man!” he whispered back. “I want it so bad!” I began to throb and then my cock let loose, sending literally *******s of cum into his ass. I pushed forward with my hips but threw back my head in a silent howl. As the waves of pleasure subsided, I came down a little and my cock *slipped out. My little piggy turned around, crouched down and licked my cock clean. I could smell the mix of cum, sweat and ass juices. He gobbled them up. Licking his chops, he stood, pulling up his pants. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that.” And with that little whisper, he was off into the night. I went to bed, slept well and flew home the next day. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #12: Bi Pigs Bisexuals are funny. There's two extremes with them. They're paranoid or they're pigs. Once had a gu... 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... When I arrive in a town like Boston, BarebackRT.com* lights up. Am I recognized? By a few. New meat? *That’s it. I think the bareback community occasional craves that fresh injection of DNA into the murky mix. It’s so nice to log on and find 10 or 15 messages waiting to be read. Now some buttwipes fail to read the most basic information, even in my own BBRT profile . As I’ve outlined on the Getting Fucked by iBLASTinside page**on this site, I have a few requirements (don’t fucking smoke), but otherwise I’ll be interested based on how things go in our conversation. Such is what happened with one such hot bottom. Truth is, I had two very different men that were definite possibilities and one dark horse in the race for my cum on the one night I was in town. The dark horse? A muscle bottom from Montana visiting Boston. Fuck if when I saw his bubble butt ass and thick thighs, I didn’t want to get my cock between his muscular cheeks and get him to squeeze. The other bottom followed me on Twitter*. He was fucking beefy and totally hot. But timing sucked as my boss called and wanted to meet the team as a precursor to the next day’s business. The beefy bottom had to be up early, so by 10:30 p.m. when things were wrapping up, he was knackered and off to bed. While plenty of other men popped up, my 25-year-old bottom popped up continually, requesting an anonymous scene. And his ass photo just proved*irresistible. I love anonymous scenes. My favorite is known as “Room Service” when I’m traveling and I’ve done it many times…**in Texas and**in California, just to name a couple. But I know there’s a lot more here I’ve just failed to tag. I outline the basics for the bottom. He comes into the darkened room, strips naked, finds me naked on the bed, sucks me hard then climbs on board and rides me a bit. I then put him on his stomach and finish off in his ass, sending him on his way. His response? Instead, he’d prefer I only take him from behind. He outlines a completely different scene, where I hide in the bathroom and he is on all fours. I’m responsible for getting myself hard and I just fuck and load him. WTF. Not exactly meeting the Eleven Commandments . “No thanks.” I then start working a beefy, tattooed guy. Then the whining and “what happened?” questions start. “Not interested in bossy bottoms,” I said. “Have a good one.” “It was just a suggestion,” he said. “I’m glad to do it your way. I just like being taken from behind.” After a little while without much progress and the clock ticking past midnight, I invited him over. * * ** * * As I waited naked across the bed in the darkened room, I felt my heartbeat rise with anticipation, as with every time I do this scene. The light from the hallway suddenly floods part of the room as he slips in and I can just make out the shadow of a guy, about six foot tall, in a gray tank top, gym shorts and flip-flops. I’d told him to wear as little as possible. The room plunges back into darkness and he’s slipping off his clothes. He’s moving toward the bed and soon I feel a tentative hand touch my right foot and it moves up until he’s climbed on the bed and his mouth closes around my half-hard cock. His sun-chapped lips begin sucking my cock. I reach down into his brown mane and feel the soft hair and stroke it to his skin-peeling shoulders. This boy has had too much sun. I can feel the lizard skin as it flakes off into my finger tips. He radiates a heat. I’m worked into full hardness but it isn’t until he starts to lick my balls do I finally start to feel some aggression and begin uttering, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I put his mouth back into my cock and push it down gently before getting him to lick my balls more. I feel his hairy chest, which has been clipped shorter and find his nipples. They’re smaller and fail to protrude much, sticking close to his body. A little disappointing, especially based on the face and chest pic I’d seen, which seemed to show larger, poking nips. But who knows if he even sent real pics. I pull him up by his hairy underarms and position him to ride. He spits on his hand and adds it to ass. I hand him my bottle of poppers and let him take a whiff as my cockhead begins to split him open. For someone who wanted me to just take him from behind, it took this bottom a moment to really get his ass down to the base of my raw cock. He finally did, with extra spit and more poppers. Fuck, that ass gripped my cock tight. He begin to bounce on it. Just a little. He added more spit to the base but the friction just really set me off. It’s not very often I find a bottom who could possibly milk a load out of me. This one didn’t know it. He was bringing me close to popping. Interestingly enough, he’d change position or pace or angle right about the moment I’d be hitting that point of no return. Given the*reprieve, I’d regain my composure. The darkness masked my biting of my lip to distract myself just enough. Once, he almost had me there, I lifted up and asked if me wanted me to fuck him from behind. I moved behind him, spit on my cock and slid inside. He sighed, like jizzjoy *already occurred. I guess he really liked it from behind. I laid on top of him and began pumping, giving him a whiff of poppers and snorting some myself. “You want my load?” “Oh yes!” the slutty bottom said. “Please give me your cum!” His begging continued as I pumped, getting closer and closer until I sighed and let out a groan, my cock throbbing and my load pumping hot, white sperm into his ass. I pushed it into him deeper and deeper. “Oh fuck yea!” “That’s my load man,” I said. “You’re getting my fucking sperm!” He backed his ass up. I climbed up enough so he could impale himself a little and he rode it that way until he shot a load on the bedsheets just a moment later. I rolled off and he left into the night just a few moments later. I hope he found some moisturizer. His skin really needed it. His ass, not so much. I gave it plenty of protein. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Riding for Man Gravy When a man climbs on board, the sensation can be terrific. But when the bottom become aggressive, lo... Drunk He was drunk.Barely 6 o'clock in the afternoon, and his body reeked of the alcohol he'd likely b... Looks Like the Perfect Devil's Dick Ice Cube Tray... I am a geek. I am proud of that fact. Of course, I check out the shop ThinkGeek.com, which happened ... Here's Ten AK47 Bullet-Shaped Cumsicles from 13 Different Loads I posted a little while back* about this ice cube tray I found. It creates AK47 shaped ice cubes*. I... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Coming off a vacation of week-long proportions that brought me more than just rest and relaxation. I have much to convey, oh loyal readers. Yet my first day back on the job puts me back onto the plane and off to Boston for work. From Key West Conch to Georgia Peach to Boston Beantown. As I sat at home scrolling through the TiVo selections to decide what to watch and rubbing lotion into my right leg now suffering the trauma of a new tattoo. Fuck me for believing in the phrase “go big or go home”; in Key West, I apparently interpreted it as “go big then go home” as my leg is a little swollen, red and angry at what I put it through. Yes, it puts the lotion on the skin or it gets the needle again. My impressions of Key West will take a long time to extract and get out here, plus there’s a couple of encounters to write about*— one a fan fuck, one a plain fuck. Both with qualities worth writing about. That said, I don’t want to wait too long to give a few impressions…. Big Ruby’s Guesthouse: Contrary to popular belief, I am not all sex all the time, which is the reputation of Island House. I actually went on this vacation to relax and enjoy myself. Big Ruby’s offered a great room, nice pool, hot tub*and delicious breakfast every morning plus very nice employees. Bourbon Street Pub: When it came to a go-go-boy bar, this has got to be impressive. Hot, hot, hot were these men. I was surprised to say the least for such a destination to find men, some hotter than what I can find in Atlanta. Seven Fish: Make reservations and go eat here. It’s two blocks off Duval but the fish is incredibly fresh and always a unique twist. Blu Q Gay Excursion: If you want to*snorkel*the coral reefs or anything like that, this is way too much fun to head out on this clothing-optional adventure. Don’t miss this fun time with Captain Steve and, if you’re lucky, First Mate Ryan. I’m off to pack for Boston. Let’s look forward to that Yankee ass. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Travel Diary: A Repeat Customer My job takes me to Birmingham, Alabama, several times a year. On my travels here, I've found this to... Returning to San Francisco I'm off again on travel and back again in San Francisco. Truly by the Bay and by the Bridge. While I... On My Way to Vegas... My week in Las Vegas begins and the exact man who will be my bottom cum slut for the week still isn'... Off to the Not-So-Wild-West Again Well... California.... here I come again. And I hope to cum again and again. LOL. I'll be arriving o... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... When I first visited Key West in the 1990s, it held a hedonistic mystery for me. Of course, my sexual world hadn’t yet expanded to the world I now know exists. This small resort community with the*Caribbean*feel still retains some of that hedonism, but in a more mainstream way. Let me explain. I recall when clothing-optional happened to be all the rage among the Gay resorts in the area. Now, there’s less from which to choose. But the straights have adopted the same and even offer nightclubs/bars that are nudist. Such is one called the Garden of Eden where the patrons are naked. This swingers location encourages much activity among the guests with one exception*— no man-on-man action. I’ll get into more details on what and where to go when you get to Key West when I have more time to write. I’m not spending my vacation missing all the fun. However, I will point out some disappointment. The locals here tend to be older*— which really isn’t that much of an issue*— except they use “boy” or “boi” in their online names. I’m sorry. You’re 52 years old. You’re no longer “hotkeywestboi.” You’re “keywestmanwithtoomuchtan.” Grindr, Scruff and Jack’d lack anyone with follow-through. Grindr offers the least options, showing more men in Miami. Men? Wait, it’s Grindr. Children pretending to be 18. Grindr is going to get in so much trouble for not verifying age. And Jack’d, supposedly the best new thing ever, is jacked up for me. No one messages me there at all. Then there’s Scruff*— the only app with which I see any promise. But in the end, it just turns into a fucking photo trade. And meeting men is as inconvenient as it is at home in Atlanta. If you’re not staying within a 3-minute walk, fuck you, I’m not coming over. I’m at Big Ruby’s, a central location just off Duval Street, practically in the middle of the main drag. But some fuckers think it’s just too fucking far if they have to walk 5 or 10 minutes*— the practical maximum in Old Town Key West is 15 and there’s rickshaw cabbies everywhere. I don’t want to be too rude as people here can be extraordinarily nice and I do appreciate it greatly. I’ve had a blast on the Blu Q cruise and Bourbon Street Pub (and their dick dancers) have made my trip amazing. And my hosts here at Big Ruby’s get special thumbs up for a Gay resort that’s just too fabulous to forget. But now I need the bottoms of Key West to host my cock and cum. And not make it difficult. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Dark Passenger, The Return: How Should I Feel? Tonight I sit with a weird feeling creeping up my spine. I find myself reduced back to a boy, curled... Travel Diary, Day #1: Where Are All the Cum-Loving Bottoms? I've been saving up my cum. My4½-hour flight from the East Coast on a cramped plane sitting on heavy... Travel Date Added: Off to Boston in Early March I'll be headed to Boston in early March for any Yankees who want to sample my cock and cum. It's my ... First Two Provocative University T-Shirt Designs Now Available This idea of what I'm calling Provocative University T-Shirts has been bumping around my head for a ... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I’m off to my vacation and the destination of Key West. I know it’s “off season” and for many of the “in” crowd, Key West is no longer considered a destination of choice. But the place holds a great deal of nostalgia for me. I believe Key West happens to be the location of my first orgy. I’d had a three-way prior, but five men together was a first time (atop Coconut Grove’s decks around 3 a.m. sometime in 1990). I met my first, real boyfriend here. On a later trip, that boyfriend introduced me to Gran*Mariner, now my favorite drink. In my very early 20s at the time, he introduced me to the finer aspects of gay life well beyond fucking. Although I briefly visited Key West on a cruise stopover in 2004, I’ve not returned for any substantial time since 1994, when I visited with my first live-in boyfriend. We broke up during a drunken night in the streets. I’ve advertised my impending*arrival*on Craigslist with the following ad: [h=2]top blogger visiting soon, looking for bottom inspiration – m4m (kw)[/h] I am a controversial blogger who writes* about my sexual conquests. I'll be visiting Old Town Key West* later this month. Would YOU like to be the conquest on my visit? The bottom I fuck and fill? One of the entries in my blog? Send me an email. That could happen. I'm a top. I don't use identifying information about the people I fuck, although I do like to use photos (with faces blurred or without faces). Email me. Of course, I always enjoy hearing about you or, better yet, seeing photos. My info is in the blog. I will send a link and you can check me out and check out the blog. Then you can read and see if you're interested. There's plenty of JO material. Please read the blog carefully. Some men just think it's hot and fail to miss even the most basic information. I'm always looking for inspiration so if you think you've got it, let me know. P.S. I ALWAYS appreciate your basic stats and your pics. I tend to post it when I’m visiting any town for a substantial period of time*— more than a few days. I get an interesting selection of responses. And with all of my travel, I put noticed on my BarebackRT profile . The results? Very mixed. First, a lot of folks just e-mail to get the URL to my website. They go off, jerk it and never respond. A few come back. I rejected the 62-year-old crossdresser. Then there’s a few insincere and not-my-types. One really stood out (you can see him to the right). He sent me multiple pics and we texted back and forth for about a week. As with most promising individuals, they flake out when it comes to actually meeting. In the last few days, this potential hottie has stopped communicating with me via text. Yes, there’s a couple of others. One who’s a single night overlap so depending on how I feel when I arrive, I might breed him. While getting a lot of ass lined up isn’t happening, I’m sure I won’t have too much trouble finding something. Still, hit me up if you’re interested and going to be around . If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #16: Plastic Or Skin You know, it's funny how many "safe" tops I hear from that say they get soft while fucking... Exhibitionism & Voyeurism I have been watching "Works of Art: The Search for the Next Great Artist" on Bravo. I woul... The New Norm The economists of the world discuss the spending habits of the American consumer, calling it the &qu... Are You an Escort, Rent Boy, Massage Therapist, Stripper or Other Kind of Sex Wo... Sex workers read me. I know you do. Strippers, escorts, massage therapists, etc. You make money from... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... *Mark notes: I received this as a comment to my original post about Rage Against the Bossy Bottom*. I’ve since also written Revenge of the Rage Against the Bossy Bottom**with a few more things that bothered me. I got a note from Ryan, a bottom*who follows me on Twitter. After reading my Rage entries, Ryan had some interesting feedback. This was*unsolicited and he provided it.* I’ve posted Ryan’s proposed Eleven Commandments then edited them to make them sound more commanding. Bottoms just don’t know how to make things sound like it’s not a request or nice. That is, unless they’re a bossy bitch. * * ** * * [h=1]By a Bottom for All Bottoms[/h] [h=3]With Notes from Mark aka iBLASTinside[/h] Sorry about these experiences. It’s shameful, to be honest. There are a lot of “bottoms” out there giving us real bottoms a bad reputation. This in turn makes it harder for genuine bottoms to do what we do best because a blight gets cast over us a group. Consequently, solid tops (and even versatile tops) have to play mind-reader games in order to figure out if the person they’re talking to is really what they claim to be (a bottom). The guys you’re describing need to be honest with themselves. They aren’t bottoms, they’re versatile bottoms (at best). They’re holding on to way too many mental assumptions that do not belong to total bottoms. Put another way, they’re thinking (at least in some vestigial sense) with the mindset of a*top, and they can’t have it both ways. Bottoms aren’t —*by definition —*supposed to be bossy. That’s the top’s job. And you are rightly irritated when they step out of their role. There are certain things one must mean when one claims to be a bottom. I call them my Eleven Commandments of a True Bottom. And since I am a true bottom, if you (a top) disagree with them, my job is to change them. [h=1]The Eleven Commandments of a True Bottom[/h] [h=3]1. If you’re going to bottom, come prepared to bottom.[/h] Be clean, be committed, be submissive. Do not, however, be lubed. *Mark notes: I believe a true bottom always strives to be clean. I have one bottom friend who shower shots when he gets up in the morning and when he gets home from work and, if he’s at home, right after every shit, whether or not there’s a plan for a fuck in the near future. He also carries a portable douche with him everywhere he goes. The idea being he never knows when a fuck might show up. He literally has an open-door policy (he used to sleep with his door unlocked so men could come in during the night and fuck him but after a few things went missing, he had to revise that). Therefore, if I were writing this, it would be… Thou Shalt Always Be Prepared to Bottom [h=3]2. Why? Because the top chooses the lube.[/h] It’s your job to bring some. But many discerning tops only want to use spit, so you may have to take him without lube and with more friction. Deal with it. *Mark notes: I truly appreciate your approach here. Pisses me off when a bottom expects me to bring supplies (and I prefer spit as lube anyway). Further, I recommend the bottom provide all the supplies — lube, poppers, towels, etc. There’s nothing nicer than a bottom who gets me off and when I roll off him, he sucks me clean then he gets up, brings a warm wash cloth and wipes up my cock then dries me off. That is full service. I’d recommend the following selections: Lube (each clearly marked) A “cum” lube like Str8 Cam or Spunklube* A silicon clear An oil-based clear A non-irritating lotion A warming lube* Poppers (to keep fresh, please keep in darkness) English Amsterdam Jungle Juice Platinum A fourth option like Jungle Juice Black Label, Pig Sweat or Taiwan Blue. Therefore, if I were to write this, it would read… Thou Shalt Provide All Supplies a Top Might Require [h=3]3. Assume that if you have a gag reflex and can’t take his cock all the way down your throat, that your ass will just have to make up for what your mouth can’t do.[/h] Getting your dick sucked, ass rimmed and/or fingered is at the top’s discretion. Understand if he sucks your dick, it’s because he like to suck dick…it just happens to be your dick. And understand that if he takes the time to rim you, you’re about to get fucked the way he wants to fuck you. *Mark notes: I rarely rim and even more rarely suck cock. And if I kiss you, well then I really like you. One of the things that I’ve not put on my Bossy Bottom lists is when the cunts ask if I’ll rim or blow them. First, see Commandment Number 1. If that ass isn’t fucking pristine, my mouth isn’t going near it. My nose tells me whether it’s okay to go in for a lick. Then if I taste anything bitter, um, I’m not taking a second lick. *On the other hand, I am generally clean. I might not be fresh out of the shower. Your job, if I want you to, is to suck me hard. If my ass isn’t clean, I’ll never send a bottom down there. but I’ve had plenty of bottoms volunteer to lick my funky ass. Your choice. Just know I’m not kissing you after that, no matter how much I like you (or how much mouthwash you use later). If I were to write this, it would say…*Thou Shalt Not Demand Any Assistance to Prepare for Being Fucked But Thou Shalt Help a Top Prepare to Fuck [h=3]4. If your top wants you to blow a load before he fucks you, get to work jerking it.[/h] Yes, we know it’s going to hurt more when he fucks you after you’ve already nutted. If he’s asking, it’s obviously the point that he knows that and wants your hole super sensitive so that you really earn his cum. Time for you to bite that pillow. **Mark notes: Now I already figured I wanted to fuck Ryan (author of the bottom half of this piece). Now I know I do. I’ve made bottoms bite the pillow and take me after they’ve popped off because they’re not patient for me to cum first. I stay hard after I cum and I like working my DNA in deeper. But actually jerking off before I start fucking? I personally think there’s nothing hotter than a bottom who cums on my cock and lets me fuck him with his own cum.* My version… Thou Shalt Cum When, Where and By What Means the Top Demands [h=3]5. Your top has control of a lot, but whether you moan while being fucked isn’t always one of them.[/h] Some bottoms can just take more than others and vocalize that proportionally. That said, if he wants you to talk to him, he’ll fuck it out of you. And if all you can say during the first few thrusts is “ouch,” or “slow down,” or “easy,” expect him to put you face-down on the mattress or stick his underwear in your mouth. He has to fuck his way through the pain so you can start to feel the pleasure, so stop running away. *Mark notes: Thou Shalt Vocalize Pleasure and Not Pain, Unless Your Top Demands Silence [h=3]6. Stop it already with putting your hands against his hips or stomach to try to control his depth/speed/roughness.[/h] Bottoming is what you came here for, get to it. *Mark notes: Now I’m not huge but I am hard and, for some bottoms, that’s a challenge (I don’t know why because it goes in easier than some softy you have to grasp by the base and shove inside). I will normally give a bottom a few moments to adjust to my cock.* After that, shut up and take it.* Along with this trying to stop it is when a bottom grabs my hips and tries to get me in deeper. My commandment version… Thou Shalt Allow the Top to Penetrate as Deep, as Rough and at the Pace He Wishes [h=3]7. Don’t worry about jacking yourself off.[/h] Focus on the pain and the pleasure your top is giving you with his cock. If your top wants you to get off, he’ll either tell you to stroke it, or he’ll do it for you. It’s not his job to make you cum, it’s his job to fuck you how he wants to. The better job you do, the more likely he might let you cum while he’s still inside you. Earn it. *Mark notes: Oh how much it pisses me off to have a bottom playing with his own nipples or jerking his cock or, worse, both. And I’m having to maintain balance for us both. Meanwhile, he accidentally brushes his hand against my balls and notices I like that and then goes back to jerking his own cock? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? Thou Shalt Not Touch Yourself Unless Ordered to Do So by the Top [h=3]8. Don’t try to take charge.[/h] Your top sets the pace. Don’t back up onto the cock unless he tells you to. Your top is not an amusement park ride, you are. He’ll let you know if he wants you to drive. *Mark notes:*This one overlaps a little with Commandment Number 6 so we’re going to change it up a little because I think I know what the bottom means here. There was this terrific bottom I fucked for a while and his ass just really knocked my socks off. Where he excelled happened to be when he’d be in the crab position above my cock and just ride the cum out of me. Literally. He did it once. I loved it. I told him to do it again the next time I fucked him. He made a half-ass attempt for like a minute then switched positions and pace on me, even when I told him what I wanted.* Then there’s been bottoms who grind their cock into the bed when I’m riding them in my favorite position. I tell them to stop moving and let me do all the work. I want to shoot off in their ass. Don’t move. Just hold still and let me use them to get myself off in their ass. But they don’t. They’re thinking moving against my fuck is good, even when I tell them just to hold still. No. It’s even better when I let a bottom try to get me off with his ass if he’ll ask if this is better. Go faster? Go deeper? Shut up? Just pay attention to me. You should figure it out. Thou Shalt Do as the Top Commands at All Times, Pay Attention and Ask If It’s Unclear [h=3]9. Don’t be stupid.[/h] Unless you have some prearranged, agreed upon commitment about something, it’s the top’s show. He picks the positions. He picks the bed, floor, shower, etc. And he picks where his load ends up. You can ask, but don’t natter away and make him regret picking you over the other guy that was just as hot. *Mark notes: My dear bottom finds himself struggling a little with this one, so I’ll first say what I think fits best… Thou Shalt Anticipate a Top’s Needs It’s like I wrote about in my last Bossy Bottom* piece. I’m on my way to cumming and the fucking bottom interrupts me. I’d fucked him before and he should have paid attention to know what it is that I’d preferred, how I liked to cum and then allowed me to shoot. Instead he interrupted me. He was stupid. He didn’t anticipate that I needed him just to enjoy the ride instead of worrying about his pleasures. [h=3]10. Don’t let your mouth write checks your ass can’t cash, so be careful what you say.[/h] Don’t say “anything goes” unless you mean it. Don’t say “fuck me harder” unless you want to feel his girth for the next week. If you call your top “Daddy”, or “Sir”, or “Papi”, or whatever, be ready for any role play that follows. Don’t bitch about it if you call him “Sir,” only to have him put your ass hole through a Seal training boot camp. Your ass belongs to him until he’s done with it. *Mark notes: Oh, this one is too fucking true. A great example is an entry I wrote quite a while back in my Dark Passenger series*. *The young man told me he wanted some tit torture, I told him what I would do, he was gung ho for it, he showed up, I did it and he cried like a little bitch. I see entries online all the time that bottoms will do “anything” except blood and scat. Do you guys realize how fucking wide open that is? You start talking to them and you soon find out it also includes no permanent scarring, no bruises, no hitting, no spanking, piss only with beer or water, time limit of two hours or less, no women, no transgender, no animals, no shaving, no bondage, must use a safe word, no drugs, etc.* If Thou Asks It, Thy Top May or May Not Grant It And one other thing. You call me “Daddy” only if I could actually be your “Daddy”*— meaning you better be in your twenties. Then I’ll call you “son” or “boy.” And while I’m completely familiar with the Leather Community and the Sir/boy relationships, I do struggle with men my senior begging to be called “boy.” I’ll give you whatever title I want to give you. Just because you think that word recaptures your youth, it doesn’t. [h=3]11. It isn’t about you, it’s about the top. Period.[/h] Really understanding this eliminates the need for the other ten. *Mark notes: Amen brother. Preach it. Thou Shalt Focus All Thyself on The Top The most successful bottoms have always expressed this. There’s this joy that comes from them*— their jizzjoy**— from the cum deposited in their ass. When I cum and I hear a bottom sigh from that, I know I’ve got someone who really enjoys what I do. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Poppers, Persuasion and Pleasure Poppers came to me late in my sexual experience. I first learned about them when I was 16 or 17, but... Travel Diary: I'm Off to Vegas, Baby! 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Bottoms can be so demanding. Look, I get it. Ultimately it’s the bottom that’s in control. They can close up their pussy and all the fun ends. But unlike women, men have an uncontrollable urge to fuck and get fucked. And it seems to me that bottoms need to just give up that control and let the fuck happen. It’s their job just to open their ass. As I wrote last week*,*bottoms can be demanding even before you show up. Here’s more demands and shit that pisses me off. [h=2]Draw Me a Map[/h]I live and work in the Atlanta area and, just like any set of suburbs, it’s dotted with cities and communities*— Marietta, Roswell, East Point, Stone Mountain, Gainesville, Buckhead, Stockbridge and a few thousand others. Fuck if I know where they all are. This happens so fucking often, it drives me nuts. I’ll tell some stupid bottom where I am. His response will inevitably be, “I’m in Roswell. How far away from you is that?” The little fucktard isn’t staying in a hotel. He lives here. I’m not Google Maps. Check it yourself. When I travel, even I have another window open with Google Maps. I’d often travel to the San Francisco Bay area. I made sure I knew where I was stay (East Bay area) and if someone said they were in Emeryville or Castro Valley or Redwood City, I’d map that from where I was to see an approximate time. It’s not fucking difficult. [h=2]Scavenger Hunt for Ass[/h]I’ve written about this shit before, but I’m going to put this shit out there again. Give me your fucking address complete with apartment number. Don’t give me a landmark at which to meet you. Don’t tell me to drive somewhere then text you when I’m there for the next set of directions. I’m not on a scavenger hunt for a fuck. We’re not spies. Don’t be afraid I’m going to expose your ass to the whole world. I could give a shit about whether your mother knows you love getting mancum up your ass. I just want to fuck. Now you play games with me, that does piss me off and, well, then I might see about scaring you by posting you and your rather bad tattoo on Craigslist for the world to see that says, “I love man dick and my cunt craves cum.” Just kidding. I don’t even bother with fucks that won’t give me a full address. [h=2]You Can Find My Photos…[/h]Send me your phucking photos. I’m not going to A4A or Manhunt or wherever you say your photos are located. Just send them to me. Don’t make me go search for me. Don’t give me the send to receive shit. The funniest S2R ones are the young ones. I think because they’re 21 or 28 that a 45 year old will jump at the chance to fuck with them that I’ll send mine then they won’t have to reply with theirs. I’m not that desperate. When I have a dry spell, it’s usually because I’m being a little picky and I want some strange. I mean, there’s always my go-to asses I can fuck. But I want something new. And don’t give me the fucking excuse you don’t know how to attach photos or a virus corrupted your drive or you’re on your work computer. Doesn’t work. (If you were on your work computer, dumb ass, you can’t be sending me nasty e-mails about how much you want my cock in your ass; that’s a lot worse than sending me a clothed pic. I know. I’ve worked at places that monitors IP packets and we look for words like “cock” as much as e-mail attachments of naughty photos.) [h=2]I Only Get Fucked at My Convenience[/h]At times, a bottom needs to host and I’ll be hosting. But a bottom who only gets fucked at his convenience at his place? Fuck no. There’s been this very hot piece of ass on BarebackRT.com**I’ve wanted to fuck and breed for sometime. He pops up on occasion inviting me over to his place. Always his place. It’s not like his place is downtown. It’s outside the Perimeter (that’s what we call the by-pass interstate that surrounds Atlanta) just like where I live. This little cunt has a car. He just won’t put his bubble butt into it and come see me. Oh well, he’ll never get my load. I don’t mind bottoms hitting me up when they’re horny. That would be great. I’ve got a few bottoms I know who actually do a good job of attempting to always be prepared. [h=2]Don’t Stop Me Mid-Fuck for a Hit of Poppers[/h]I love poppers. But unless I’m on for a long-term session, I only take one hit of poppers. It’s just before I cum. Everyone who reads me knows this and everyone who’s ever been fucked be me figures this out. First, in the sequence of who gets hits when, the top always gets the last hit. Bottoms go first then tops go last. I’m with a bottom the other day. He takes a hit and hands me the bottle. I do my hit. Then the little fucker takes the bottle back and snorts another one. Meantime, I’m here with my cock in the wind as that warm rush hits me waiting on him to get his ass wrapped around it. Not cool. Another bottom I’ve given a hit to, taken mine and I’m riding his ass to breed him. I’m doing my usual, “Do you want my load?” “Wait!” he exclaims, like something horribly wrong has happened. Like his wife has suddenly come home or something. His body tenses up. Since he’s about six inches shorter than me and a hundred pounds lighter, he moves under me in a way where I’ve only got my cockhead in his ass. Again, I’m thinking something is wrong. “Where’s the poppers?” “What?” I say. “I want another hit of poppers.” “WHAT?” I say. “Where’d the bottle go?” I handed him the bottle and let him take a hit. I stop fucking him, politely, like I’m some sort of machine. “You ready?” I ask as he’s put the bottle cap back on. “Yes.” I go back to fucking his ass. What he doesn’t know is that final*crescendo*of popper high crashed against the rocks of me not cumming. I fuck him in a couple of more positions. Then I pull out, walk across the room and begin putting my clothes on. “What’s up man?” he asks. “I gotta get back to work,” I say, since it was my lunch break. “You’re not going to cum?” “No,” I say. “It’s not going to happen.” I leave him, practically in tears. I could have held him down and fucked the shit out of him. Then I would have shot a load in his ass. A big one. He would have loved that. But it was much more painful for me to walk away from him without leaving a load in his ass like the last four times I fucked him. He loved my huge loads. I’ve received a dozen texts from him asking what went wrong, if I’m angry at him. Bottoms are such clueless bitches. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Travel Diary, Day 19: Latino Guido My journey to the Sunshine State lacked a lot of sunshine. I attempted to see if I could use Twitter... Top Five Fucks of 2010 At my best guess, I've bred a few more than 200 asses in 2010. Not bad. Not the goal I set for mysel... 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... If everything goes as planned, I’ll be back in Boston for at least one night. It will be a brief visit. Any fan fucks, cum and get it! No fucking around this time. I chatted with two abortions last time**who didn’t intend on meeting. This time, let’s hope it won’t be quite so*disastrous. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... The New Norm The economists of the world discuss the spending habits of the American consumer, calling it the &qu... Travel Diary: Double It Up Washington, D.C., will always be my kind of town. Having lived there for more than a decade of m... Friday Fuck: My Birthday Weekend Begins Smelly and Half-Hard Help make Mark's birthday a little better while he's out of work with a donation. Learn more abo... Off to the Not-So-Wild-West Again Well... California.... here I come again. And I hope to cum again and again. LOL. I'll be arriving o... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Thursday I am horny and frustrated. This is a combination that, for me, is not good. I’m in one of those moods where I want to fuck anything that gets in my way. I’m on the look out for a sure thing. When it finally arrives, it’s someone I recognize. He’s an extremely muscular massage therapist who provides not too bad bodywork. Where he’s located isn’t the most convenient. But he has a great body and this time he just wants to get fucked. Allow me to be more specific. He had a great body. The photos he sends are from a year back from when I last saw him. I’ll explain. Our exchange *on how to get to his place is brief and he says to come right in*— not to even knock. I let him know I’m 20 minutes away. And right at 20 minutes, I’m at his door, pushing. It’s locked. I knock. Shuffling begins inside. “Wait up guy,” I hear. “Got to let the dogs out.” In a few seconds, the door opens and it’s not dogs I see. It’s three men. Just beyond the jocked muscle guy I’m expecting is a beefy bearish guy pulling up his pants, putting on a baseball cap and exiting out the door behind me. The second is a short, dorky, tattooed guy who sort of looks like Ian on Big Brother season 14. And he’s just in a pair of boxers. I’m confused. Then muscleman and I are alone as “Ian” is in the bedroom and the bear is gone out the door. Muscleman has been on a diet. A radical one. He’s lost at least 50 pounds. I whip out my cock, not thinking too much, and slide it inside him. I’d been anticipating fucking him. His ass is slick already with cum. If bear had finished up, maybe muscleman was sucking him clean. Don’t know. Don’t care. We’re fucking on his massage table and, let’s just say, it’s not working out. I can’t enter him deeply enough. He’s thinner but fuck if his asshole just isn’t positioned correctly. And something is off about him. Something just isn’t right. This isn’t like the last time. Of course, the fuck occurred after a good rubdown, but I’m not getting something. He’s face down, of course. My suspicious rise. I climb off about to leave when he’s up and on his knees, his mouth wrapped around my cock. It’s like he knows something is up. And I’ll admit, his sucking is primo. He even goes for my balls. I finally decide I need to cum. If I go home in this condition, someone will get hurt until I can bust a load. “Is anyone else coming over?” I ask. “Nope,” he says between sucks. I pull off my clothes. He gets the signal. “We need a bed,” he says. And then we walk into the room where “Ian” is laying on half of the bed. Now I*hesitate, but he motions me in. “Ian” barely looks up as muscleman lays on the other half of the bed, ass up. This room is brightly lit, compared to the living room, which was dark. I shrug. I’m naked, in an apartment, with a hardon and precum leaking out of my cock. I’m wondering if this is the beginning of a three-way. Um… it turns out… no, it wasn’t. Although “Ian” has removed his boxers and is laying on the bed naked with a softy, he spends the entire time texting. I crawl on muscleman. And through our fuck, I notice the signs. The*fidgeting. And he’s at least a little smart about another thing. Since I’m flat on top of him, wherever my head is, he turns his head away to prevent noticing he’s chewing gum*— an attempt not to grind his teeth. His weight loss and all the symptoms point to Tina. Fuck. So my hard dick is up this tight, warm chute that’s preloaded and, despite the weight loss, he’s still got a good body. I wish “Ian” would get off his fucking phone and play with my balls but that’s not going to happen. And I’m frustrated and horny. I fucking hate tweakers*. Actually, I don’t hate them. I hate the kind of person who results from using too much Crystal Meth. But I still fuck them. I even had this severe crush on a guy a few years ago who had an addiction but he moved to Minneapolis. I fucked him plenty but actually wanted a real date and wanted to get to know him. He refused all my advances. But when he was high, he’d let me fuck him. And I’d let it happen. I revised that policy with another man I met locally who wanted me to fuck him before going off to rehab. I didn’t. There are some bottoms I want to crave me when they’re wholly cognizant of what’s going on. But at this moment, the dick is winning. There’s a little conflict in my head, but I know how to shut that up. I snort some poppers. The conflict ends and like a laser, my pleasure center kicks in to focus exclusively on my cock and how it feels inside that tight, cummy hole. “You want my cum?” “Yes please,” he says. “Please breed my ass.” That’s all it takes. Soon I’m letting loose a ******* of DNA inside his ass. After a moment of recover, I’m off and putting on my clothes. “Ian” doesn’t seem to notice. Muscleman offers me water and invites me back anytime. I’m being nice, but I won’t come back. 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... One of those days. Fucking one of those days. I just needed to leave work and fuck an ass. All that pent up frustration sometimes shoots out of my cock. Where’s a good bottom when you need one? I work on the other side of the planet from where I live, so I’ve been attempting to find a few bottoms near the office and on the way home I can stop off an drop a load. It’s my thing. You be there, naked, ass up, face down and ready to receive. The thing about the way I fuck: It’s not what you think. [h=2]1. My cock is hard.[/h] When I say hard, I mean rock hard. It’s not hard like a dildo, so let’s make that clear. But when I get erect, I’m in the game until I pop or you poop. My cock is pliable and I can fuck in many different positions but it’s not for a size queen. It’s about 7 inches and it’s just right. I’ll hit your prostate and bang it often. I know how to find it and usually hit it. [h=2]2. This Ain’t Your Dad Fucking Your Ass[/h] Incest aside, I fucking know how to fuck ass. Every ass is different and every bottom feels different from the inside. If I’ve fucked you, please comment. I don’t want to come off sounding cocky, but my cock doesn’t have a mind of it’s own. It’s attached to me and I’m a professional. Now let me do my job. [h=2]3. I Deliver a Load[/h] My name online isn’t “iBLASTinside” just cause I thought it was fun. I’ve made a habit of always shooting inside, even when the bottom asks me not to do so (and they’ve seen this e-mail address and recognize what it says). I’ll admit to faking it on occasion, but it’s rare. I love breeding ass. [h=2]4. My Loads Are Big or Huge, Your Choice[/h] When I cum, it’s not a dribble. It’s not a small amount. I cum a lot and you’ll know it. I throb like a mutherfucker and I shoot a lot. Generally, I provide two large bursts of cum. You want extra cum? Here’s what you do: Lick my balls before I fuck you. That will assure I juice up before I breed you. [h=2]5. I’m Always Hard After I Pop[/h] If I like you, I’ll let you cum. It’s not a requirement. Bottoms aren’t really there to get off. But sometimes I am in a giving mood, especially if the bottom provided exceptional service. I probably let a bottom cum about 1 out of 4 times. It’s even more rare for me to hang around long enough to give him a second load, usually about 20 to 30 minutes later. Of course, that requires he suck me some and if a bottom isn’t sure of his cleaning skills, then he’s going to taste a little of his own shit or I’m out the door. [h=1]So What’s This Getting At?[/h] Today I’m looking for bottoms and, of course, it results in the usual desperation of four or five contenders before some asshole flags my ad off Craigslist because I dared indicate “bareback” in the text. Apparently most tops are shitty at their jobs out there, but I have to end up with the bossiest bottoms or just dumb asses who roam the planet playing a game of 20 questions. Guy 1: “Have a pic?” Me: “I posted one. Where’s yours? What’s your stats?” Guy 1: “Send to receive.” Me: “I posted a pic. Check the ad.” Guy 1: “Okay. Hot pic. Stats?” Me: “Did you bother to read the ad?” Guy 1: “Oh yea. Hot. Where are you?” My response: “Um. Ad.” Guy 1: “Oh. Got a place?” My response: “As it says in the ad, I’M AT WORK. So, no, I don’t have a place. You went to school on a short bus, didn’t you?” (FYI, that one ended there.) Guy 2: “Still looking?” Me: “The ad went up like a few minutes ago. So, yes.” Guy 2: “Cool. What are you looking for? Me: “A bottom to breed. Like the ad says.” Guy 2: “Pic?” Me: “Posted one. Send yours.” Guy 2: “You got more pics?” Me: “Yes, for trade.” We trade pics at this point. Guy 2: “You’re pretty big. I’m not sure I can take you.” Me: “It’s 7 inches. You can sit on it and take your time.” Guy 2: “I’m really tight.” Me: “I’m really hard.” Guy 2: “You got supplies? Condom? Lube?” Me: “I’ve got lube.” Guy 2: “We need a condom. Can you pick up one?” Me: “Dude. What do you think ‘breed’ means?” Guy 2: “I only do safe. Sorry.” Me: “Don’t fucking reply to ads with ‘breed’ or ‘bb’ in them.” Guy 2: “I thought you might make an exception.” Me: “I don’t.” (So this one ends.) Guy 3: “You got a *pic?” Me: “Posted in the ad?” Guy 3: “Got a face pic?” Me: “For trade.” Guy 3: “Okay.” We trade face pics. Guy 3: “I don’t have a lot of time. Got to do this before my roommate gets home. Okay?” Me: “No problem. Where to?” 10 minutes pass Guy 3: “What are you looking to get into?” Me: “Just looking to fuck and breed an ass. Where do I go?” Another 10 minutes Guy 3: “I’m at [a vague major crossroads]. Do you have a full body pic?” Me: “Look, do you want to trade pics or fuck? Where do I go?” About 5 minutes pass Guy 3: “Sorry, my roommate will be home soon. Can we do this tomorrow?” Me: “Do what? Trade vague e-mails while you jerk off?” (Obviously, this one ends too.) Guy 4: “Great pic. Here’s mine. Please come over and load me.” Me: “Where are you at?” Guy 4: [Provides address and directions.] “When will you be here?” Me: “About 20 minutes. I’m on my way.” Guy 4: “Great. Door’s open. Just push it open. In jockstrap and lubed.” (FYI, he was. But this one has a weird story. Maybe it will be the next post.) [h=1]Sounds Like Flakes So Far…[/h] Yea, it does. But it gets so weird how bottoms get so fucking picky how they want it. It’s all on their conditions when they want it. Believe me. Read some ads on Craigslist. I just want to use an ass. Yes, most of these guys where picky losers. It’s real easy. I tell you who I am, what I want and where I am. Just be a bottom and ready for it. Is it really that difficult? 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... The Atlanta Gay Strip Club and one of my favorite destinations in town, Swinging Richards*, made the local press lately. A woman patron accused two (or possibly three) dancers there of rape (GA Voice gay paper , WSB-TV*). The police incident report is available too and I’ve included it*. The basic story goes like this: A woman and her male friend has seven shots of some alcohol at that friend’s house before going to Blake’s on the Park, a local Gay bar. Then she recalls being at Swinging Richards, getting a lap dance from one of the dancers and being guided to the VIP area. She had “several things” in her hand including a debit card when “several” strippers guided her to the bar area. There was a discussion of numbers and she handed someone the debit card. The next thing she recalled is being bent over a table and two or three males having sex with her. She doesn’t recall whether she told them to stop or whether they wore protection. Police interviewed the male friend who was with her. He said he never saw intercourse but he did see her give one of the dancers a blowjob. She recalled following the sex being in a bathroom and throwing up. She was told she couldn’t stay in there. She doesn’t recall how she got home. *Following the evening, she was quite disturbed. She took a “morning after” pill and reported it to police, who are investigating. I know Swinging Richards well. Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll. Did this happen? Scuttlebutt is an incident did occur, although not quite the way the woman has reported it to the police. Obviously, her status was one of*inebriation*and memory is quite disjointed. Moreover, her male friend’s recollection of her providing oral service doesn’t help. But if he witnessed such, he had to be in the private dancing room as well since such personal touching would not be allowed out in the main part of the VIP Room. The report says he was taken to another area, which means another private room, I imagine, so as to not witness the dancers having their way with her*— if indeed, this occurred. It so happens, I stopped by last night and checked a few things out. The experienced dancers well know where the big money comes from. It is not the female patrons. Women are notoriously bad tippers. For the most part, Swinging Richards prides itself on being a Gay bar and keeps it that way. While one can use a credit or debit card to pay, it’s easier to pay with cash and preferred. Oh, let me also say that most strippers there claim to be straight. Now, I’d verify probably about half of them as truly straight but the ego boost they get from men and the money is well worth it for them. But the other 50 percent break down into some other groups. A few bisexuals and a couple of Gay men do wander the floor. However, it’s the other 30 percent or so that occupy the middle ground that become a concern. This gray space of sexuality is where I tend to have the most concern. And perhaps Swinging Richards should as well. In this space, men tend to struggle with the sensation of attraction to men and compensate with more activities with women. This is apparent not because there’s a perceived threat on his masculinity by rubbing up against a man, but by the sheer fact he actually enjoyed it. That inner conflict becomes ripe for more aggressive attempts at sexual adventures with women. Believe me, I discuss with with some of the dancers and they get off their shift then “fuck the hell out of some bitch.” Right. The good dancers left their spooge somewhere else that night. The dancers who perpetuated this act —*if indeed it went down as it was reported —*were plain stupid. Messing with women is never a good idea, especially when they’re intoxicated. And double-teaming just means there’s a witness. Stupid, stupid, stupid. One of you will get a chance to get a lesser charge and turn state’s witness on the other. Either way, you’ll both end up on the sex offenders’ list. Yuck. The guys have closed ranks and aren’t talking much at the moment, but I know it will come out eventually. I have my guesses, but for now, I’ll keep them to myself. Here’s my advice for Swinging Richards: Management already bans women from the VIP area but should extend that to the private rooms. I know that’s money in the pocket, but women can cause this kind of trouble. Consider a waiver before entering into the room, outlining it’s for “time” and “visual entertainment.” This will protect the club since this woman’s next move is filing a civil suit against the club. Dancer, patron and club must sign it. Only two people in a room at a time: The dancer and the patron. I’d be honest. The whole chair thing across the doorway sucks. I’d get a timed door lock or something along those lines (not a full door but a three-fourths). I’ve even consider investing in renovating the space in the back so there’s more but smaller rooms and a little more high-end space. If there’s a doubt that a patron isn’t sober, administer a*Breathalyzer. I’ve seen these used at many clubs at exits so patrons can be assured they’re legal to drive. Above a designated amount, you will not allow a patron to purchase a dancer. I’ve got some more ideas for Swinging Richards, but that’s another post. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Shocking Truth: I Do Occasionally Bottom Lately, a bit of a misconceptions has been perpetrated. Not on purpose, mind you. Perhaps it's just ... Birthday Bash, Here I Cum! I'm about to head out to dinner (looks like a little Asian for me tonight) then I'm off to Swinging ... Inserection Gets Hot, Hot, Hot... 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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Of late, I’ve been fucking this adorable little Latin* with an ass worth mucho grande. He’s been fantasizing about a double penetration. He’s fucking tight, but I don’t mind indulging his need for more cock, especially if it means I’ll load his hole when there’s another load inside him. The other day, we’re both searching for a second top and he happens upon someone claiming to be a top, who he invites over as well. Once I saw the BarebackRT* profile, I’ll admit I was skeptical. I generally get a vibe off of people and did not read true, pointed north top. Alas, too late as the invitation was extended. I arrived. The other “top” was sprawled on the bed in a jockstrap getting blown, in the first of what would be three cockrings he would try. Cockrings aren’t a bad thing. I’ve never had a need for them, although on occasion they’re sort of fun to add on as a kind of fashion accessory to push my balls forward so the bottom gets a hint to lick my balls more. But they also cover a couple of my sensitive*erogenous*zones where a light tongue touch and cause me to lose the ability to speak and floods my*urethra with precum. My pocket Latin sucks my cock for about 15 to 20 seconds and I’m completely hard. He shows it off to the other “top” then proceeds to climb on board. Over the next half an hour, my bottom friend sucks, jacks, tickles, kisses and tries everything he can to get the other “top” hard. *Our entire session revolves around making him comfortable and getting him up. He switches cockrings twice more and to no avail. He gets half-hard once with no potential to even slide into the bottom’s ass, even after I’ve opened it up. The “top” finally declares that his cock has been “worn out” by the bottom and he needs to go. As he’s putting on his clothes, the “top” then confesses that he’d much rather sit on my cock than anything else. Now if he’d admitted this 25 minutes ago, I might have fucked them both. But he didn’t. Then he finally says, “I’m truly versatile. Nowadays, I think I’m leaning bottom.” No shit, Sherlock. I doubt this dude had an*impotence issue. He simply couldn’t admit he climbed over the fence and now lived on the bottom side of things. It happens. But fucking hell, if you don’t think you can perform, don’t volunteer, especially when another top is counting on you. My time was wasted. The dude left, I bred the boy after we fucked in earnest without any distractions. If you liked this post, you also might like one of these... Deceptively Fun #12: Bi Pigs Bisexuals are funny. There's two extremes with them. They're paranoid or they're pigs. Once had a gu... Travel Diary: Bi or Straight? I meet up with the man from We Hold These Truths to Be Evident. More...