Feeder

To see Billy Twee's original blog post click here The notion of a stigma, attached to an HIV-positive diagnosis, prevails among the mainstream media and what I call the AIDS mafia, those organizations and activists who evidently want us seropositivos to hang it up and spend the rest of our lives wallowing in self-pity. I think that most seropositivos have already rejected the idea that we are victims and must retire from sex. Sero-sorting has become a way of life for us and we might as well bareback because we have no illusions about the reality of our status. I wouldn't go so far as to say that all the hot gay men out there are already HIV-positive, but I think I've made my point. We're alive, we're positive and we're having sex. About a year ago, the Washington Post published an interesting article using D. J. Steedley as an example, of the 'new face' of HIV in this country. Like most of us poz types, D.J. is on an anti-viral regime (in fact, part of a study group associated with the NIH) and doing just fine, both physically...and significantly...mentally. He's adjusted to his status and is living his life accordingly. If you don't know him, redeem yourself immediately and check out the Treasure Island Media website; he's an All-American type, handsome, blond, clean-cut...an intelligent frat boy. However...shortly before the Post had filed the story, D.J. did a very sexy thing that outraged the AIDS mafia: he signed a contract with Treasure Island Media to fuck in bareback videos. The Post, being the great paper that it is, subsequently clarified this development, without acknowledging that D.J.'s porn contract is merely a manifestation of how some of us are getting on with our lives. In his case, he's a hot top who is going to earn a little money doing what he likes to do; like fucking hairy daddy George Glass in TIM's 'Bad Seed.' Poz stigma, they'll say. I say, 'what poz stigma?' Now that I know that D.J. will be pumping his nasty manjuice up the receptive mancunts of sleazy ass bottoms who don't give a shit...he's hotter than ever. And as everybody outside the mainstream media already knows, there's full disclosure on the Treasure Island Media shoots. Any bottom getting D. J.'s poz load knows and wants what he's getting. Of course...that makes it even hotter. As for D.J.'s porn debut, let's just say I'm looking forward to his future pairings with some white trash bottoms. And as for 'Bad Seed,' I think it's TIM's best video so far this year; that Preston Johnson, uhm...wow. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here As promised, I did not contact the guy who gave me the HUGE load. But he finally reached back out to me. Normally, I wouldn't have given him a second go-round. He was fine and all - but that's it, still dressing like the '70s were on and in need of a Marcia Brady Makeover ®. He got a pass because of the massive load he pumped in my mouth and throat last time. So when he emailed me, I sent a message right back saying I could see him after work. He suggested a time, I said "yes". Like last time, he arrived at the set-upon hour. You'd think that wasn't important, but sooooo many guys are 20, 30, 40 minutes late, like I have nothing else to do in my life. Or anyone else to do. Then there are the guys who set the time, never show and go silent. ....but that's another rant. So there he was, in front of me, doing nothing. I went to my knees. I took his belt and unhooked it. Ditto with the pants. I put my thumbs in his black briefs and got those down as well. Out sprang his 7" piece of meat. I ogled it for a few and then placed it in my mouth. Like last time, he was quiet as a mouse. Not a word. Not a sound. I get that, but I work better with either verbal encouragement, demeaning talk or at least a grunt or two. Still, I knew what possibly awaited me, so I was a trooper and just went about my job. Though I am not 100% sure, I think he had a "tell", like people do in poker or when they're lying. Every now and again, his hand would go to my left shoulder and I'd get a slight squeeze. I could be wrong, but I think he was doing two possible things: steadying himself and / or a signal that he was close to ejaculating. To be conservative, when I'd feel the hand, I'd slow down or back off of my sucking process....but only for a bit. I mean, I love sucking cock and I was going for the load - that's my job. After about 15-20 minutes of sucking and backing off, I went for it. As I assumed, the hand went to my shoulder and then the second one, so I knew I was there - as was he. I had his cock all the way at the entrance of my throat. He shot off. And shot again....and again....and again..............and again. I would say at least a third of his cum went right down my throat, but then it backed up, flooding my mouth, similar to last time. Once again, I struggled to keep up. I gagged. My eyes teared up. I swallowed and swallowed again, just to keep up with his productivity. It was massive. Again. Not to worry fair readers, I took every single fucking drop. And I swallowed. This guy is the real deal. I will definitely have him back. More...

To see Billy Twee's original blog post click here I was at a bareback party in Palm Springs last weekend and had a great time. I got fucked by only four guys but each fuck was memorable, and happily, each dick was certifiably positive. One fucking was delivered by an old friend, we've got it on many times before. He's dumped his poz cum deep in my ass many times. The next match was with a fit, older white guy who had rolled down his briefs just enough for me to engage in some cock sucking ...and just enough to see the biohazard tattoo at his waist. Man, I could hardly wait to get his pozstick up my ass, which I did. A little later, after fisting a friend in a sling elsewhere in this favorite sex garage, I returned to my preferred station on the fuckpad, face down and butt up, and felt a prod poking around my pucker hole. When this happens I push out my big hole to swallow up whoever's there. A long and slender thing slid right in and immediately went into piston-fucking mode, getting so furious that I thought it was my old buddy the Energizer Bunny whom I've blogged about before. But wait...this dick didn't feel like Bunny's...this dick felt thicker and certainly harder. After pounding my ass for a good ten minutes, the top finished and withdrew; but I had enough time to turn to see that it was a guy who had fucked me a couple of times before and although we've never spoken, I know him from his profile on barebackrt...not the cutest guy, but positive. Three toxic dicks up my poz ass. Within minutes, another dick was diggin' out my hole; another spirited, dedicated fuck. And finally, conclusively, a blast of cum was shot up my mancunt...where cum belongs. I turned quickly to see who had made this generous donation, and as the slim, old-young/young-old white guy walked away, I saw the beautiful stylized biohazard tattoo on his right cheek. Fuck!!! Four out of four poz tops, and a poz load. If I had tried to plan it this way, it wouldn't have happened. Recalling how Sean Storm related to me in an e-mail, 'we do love those poz loads, don't we?' led me to wonder why this is so. Sean's comment is absolutely true: poz bottoms (and chasers) love all loads but especially poz loads. Such is the erotic power of the taboo, or the stigma of Positivity. If that isn't a word, I just made it up. I was going to segue into the media-enhanced Poz Stigma power of Treasure Island Media studlet, D.J. Steedley (seen in 'Bad Seed'), but rather will continue this tread in a second posting. More...

Click here to see Taken Like A Champ's original blog post... I don't pay for porn, I don't buy or rent porn movies, I don't buy racy books or male magazines. I own some leather gear, my favorite pieces being a harness and armband, and a couple of dildos, but otherwise am pretty skimpy when it comes to gay accessories (other than lube and poppers of course, lol). That's why I sort of amazed myself when I bought a super deluxe collection of almost all the illustrations ever penned or sketched by Tom of Finland. At about 15 pounds, the book weighs almost as much as the one-handed barbell I keep near my home office desk. Hefting it is a chore. Lying in bed with it resting on my sternum hurts after a while. And it certainly hurt my wallet when I shelled out $150 to buy it. But I am transfixed and hypnotized, turned on and utterly addicted to its pages, and there are 999 pages. The book is filled with more than 1,000 of Tom's drawings, and they're in sequential order from the very beginning in the 1940s to shortly before his death, the 22nd anniversary of which is coming up next week. It arrived wrapped in a beautiful jacket, encased in a specially designed box, and is printed on acid-free paper measuring nearly 19 inches high and 16 inches wide. (There are a couple of double foldouts forming poster-sized 19-by-43-inch prints, including one of his famous swimming pool scene.) The thickness of this book is more than 3 inches. To keep it out of sight from my straight buds, I have to lock it inside a piece of luggage. But I've hauled it out over and over, and for days on end will keep it near my bed. I'll wake up in the morning long before it's time to actually get up, and pull the book up with one hand, my 'ceps bulging at the strain, then lie in bed ogling the hottest men on the planet while my cock pops up the covers like a tent. What I want to do here is share a few pages worth of illustrations, through words and one picture that I think I'll be allowed to show since this is basically a book review. Tom occasionally told stories through the use of panels like those you'd find in a comic book, only there was no dialogue, just pictures. I'm choosing this particular storyboard because as soon as I turned the page and looked at it for the first time, it reminded me of one of the first homoerotic images I ever saw when I was about 11 or 12 years old. That one was a sketch in a book about settlers among the Indians, and I've written about that drawing previously on this blog. In this series of images, Tom tells the story of a white muscular stud in the jungle. He's sporting a Tarzanesque physique with smooth slabs of massively sculpted pectorals, huge areolas and eraser-sized nipples, a slight smattering of chest hair around the upper sternum, guns that pop out 24/7 and complement his broad muscular shoulders and angular V-shaped build tapering down to a narrow waist, with a rock-hard almost concave set of hairless abdominals and long sinewy limbs. He is naked except for a flimsy breechcloth that barely covers his massively hung thick cock, hanging limp with the giant head poking out from underneath the cloth. His thick untrimmed bush is sprouting up above the breechcloth string. While distracted from tickling the nuts on a monkey in a tree (yes, spanking the monkey does come to mind), he unwittingly steps into a rope trap that quickly strings him up by one leg. Soon out of the jungle come the natives. Scores of them it seems. These are handsomely brutish black Adonises in their own right, naked from their burr-headed tops to their feet, with massive cocks themselves, hairless chests for the most part, and perfectly, exquisitely, sculpted butt cheeks. They tie up their prey and bind him to a pole that they then carry to their village. Mike, as we'll call him since that seems to be one of Tom's favorite names, is hanging upside down from the rail, his hands and feet tied to the pole as it is slung over the shoulders of two of the natives. While this trophy white boy is being toted through the jungle, he can't help but have his face snug right up against — and inside — the ass cheeks of the native in front of him. And the big black cock of the native behind him has his boner lodged inside Mike's cheeks, all while he and the other native are shouldering the rail with Mike's body swaying between them. They finally reach a clearing that has two sacrificial totem poles in the center, separated about six feet from each other and shaped like giant dildos. They hoist Mike upside down and spread-eagle him, with one foot tied to the highpoint of each of these totem poles and one hand tied to each of the bases. His shoulder blades are now flat against the ground, and his manhole is facing upward while his legs are stretched wide apart. He is totally naked. And he's perfectly positioned for the gangbang of his life. Now here's my favorite panel: The natives line up ready to take their turns with whitey, and for the most part they are smaller than he is. Here is your stunningly hot white man muscle stud, naked and ass-up to about a dozen horny jungle men, and he's about to have his inner kingdom raped by a tribe of beautifully hung and hard niggas, whether he wants them to or not. The apparent leader takes the initiative and steps up to his prone victim, waving his hairy cock for all to see. He rubs Mike's ass a few times, then goes for it. He sinks that black shaft deep into Mike's pussy, the black fur of pubic hairs settling down into the moist dry crack of Mike's hole. He gives Mike such a rough raw fuck that he falls over on top of Mike, and decides since his knees are now straddling Mike's head, he'll just lower his ass down over Mike's face and force him to rim his black shitter. Other natives take their cue and proceed to do the same. They fuck Mike raw till they shoot their jungle juice deep inside his pussy, then slide down his body and lower their cocks into his mouth for proper cleaning and sucking before making him rim them. Over and over this goes on, and it's hard to know how many natives have now seeded his mancunt. The fucking has been brutal, nasty and rough all along, and finally you see the two totem poles — shaped like magnificent phallic symbols complete with huge ballsacs — start to crack and topple. It doesn't take long before Mike is set free and stands erect, snapping the ropes that once bound him to the totem poles and swinging them freely in his hands as though they were whips. He uses them to such effect, and stands towering tall and triumphant over the jungle denizens in such a way, that he is now their master. The natives he was enslaved to are instead his willing servants — worshippers even — with many on their knees clenching their hands in prayer to this mighty white god. He cracks one of the rope-whips still tied to his wrist and forces these natives to now service him. They willingly obey. They line up side by side and bend over, their beautifully sculpted bubble butts arched upward waiting for lube-free penetration from Michael. And his raging gigantic boner indicates he is more than willing to bang each and every last one of them. But there's one very sexy, sensual feature that now accompanies Michael in every single panel the rest of the way, beginning from just after his brutal gang rape. And that is this: his pussy is leaking cum! And not just a little but great big gobs of what can only be manmade jungle juice spraying out while he's doing other things like bucking his hips as he fucks the shit out of native black cunt. It is all the more delightfully, deliciously decadent because you realize from looking at all the Tom of Finland drawings from the 1940s up to this point, 1972, that he has never before, as far as I can tell, shown semen oozing out a freshly fucked mancunt. You just want to slurp it all up. Michael proceeds to ramfuck each native, grinding his bush into their butt cheeks and sweating profusely as he moves down the line, sometimes reaching around and presumably grabbing the big black cocks that were only recently raping his innards. As each native gets his fuck and fill, they drop on the ground and lower a hand to their freshly fucked holes, trying to soothe the pain they may have never before experienced. You definitely get the feeling from the sight of it all that these jungle natives were virgins when it came to taking cock anally. Finally, in the last panel, which is blown up full page in this book, Mike takes leave of his captors-turned-captives, and while he looks like he's ready to swing away on a vine in classic Tarzan fashion, he turns to wave goodbye, his muscled arms and body as hot as ever, his ass protruding out and up in tantalyzing fashion, that native jungle juice still dripping out of the crinkly folds of his still gaping cunt (which you can now clearly see), and his cock hanging limp but as engorged as ever, this time with his own white mancum oozing down the shaft and covering his glans. The natives are on their knees reaching out to catch every last drop of this white god's DNA, and one of the black acolytes has his tongue hanging out, hoping, drooling, for a chance to get one more taste of it. I'd be right behind him. Then offer myself to him and the rest of his tribesmen, gladly taking Mike's place. It is, after all, my ultimate fantasy. ;-) _____________ Tuoko Laaksonen died Nov. 7, 1991, at the age of 71 in his native Finland. If you can, check out some of his art. It's male porn that requires your sexiest organ — the brain — to do some of the work. But it's so worth it. (Note: The regular retail price of Tom of Finland XXL from Taschen is actually $200 but you can get it cheaper through Amazon.) More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here The Scruff profile was rather unassuming. I noticed it for two reasons: 1. He had viewed me first, so I saw that in my list 2. He was a new face. Let's face it, if you're a non-paying member and looking at 'near by' you see the same fucking 40 faces every.single.day. - unless you live in NYC, Los Angeles or Chicago. The face was just as unassuming as his profile, and for the uneducated, as he talks about 'chatting' and 'other encounters'. His partner also has to like you. So - 3 ways. But he was from New York, so he was visiting and I'm guessing no partner - which I was correct. He asked about Cleveland and getting around - somewhere along the line, I put in a piggy face, like this :@) and then we were off to the races. He liked nipple play and asked if I did. As you know, I told him I liked it light and gave aways my "secret" that most things could happen if someone did that. He had taken me for, in his words, a 'bitch bottom'. I couldn't really argue. He wondered when I could get to this hotel room and we agreed upon a time. He had a suite. HUGE room, with separate bedroom. He opened the door and stood 6'3" and maybe 160lbs. His face was much more handsome than it appeared in the profile image - something I would later tell him. But the face looked nice and inviting and it threw me from some more of the app chat where he wanted me to suck his cock and he was somewhat dom. I was brought back to reality quickly when there was no 'hello' or friendly conversation - as his face would suggest - and his hands went right to my shoulders and forcibly pushed me to my knees. ...and so it began. I gnawed and worshiped his dick through his jeans. I went right into sub mode, knowing most things to do and what not to say and more importantly, when not to say it. Since it was a suite, there was quite a bit more furniture than a standard hotel room. We'd eventually get to most of the pieces, except the bedroom. He went to undo his belt, and I said I would take care of that. I shouldn't have said it. He told me to lift my hands behind my head, he pulled my t-shirt up and to the back of my head, essentially binding my hands in place with my own clothing. Then he proceeded to fuck my face. This wasn't what faux tops do - a few hard pumps and then relent into letting some guy just suck - no, he was fucking my face, like a machine. Deep, hard, continual. There was no let up. None. There was no finesse. None. There wasn't meant to be. I was being put in my place as an object. I was on my knees and bound by my t-shirt when he hauled me up by my armpits. Ignoring, not forgetting, my desire for light nipple play, he grabbed my tits with all his might. It hurt, no doubt, but I was wise enough not to say 'ouch' or 'stop'. I'm sure he saw the pain in my face. It was while I was on my knees that that got my first face smack. He wasn't testing the waters to see how hard I could take it, he just went at it, a few times actually....all on the left side of my face. He moved farther south to my chest and abs, but they weren't slaps as much as they were punches. I thought at this point he'd hit harder but he didn't. Yet. Don't get me wrong, I knew I was being punched, but nothing I couldn't handle at this point. He then moved me over in front of the full length mirror. I assumed he wanted to see himself fuck my mouth. Wrong! He pushed me face first into the mirror with him right behind me. I knew he wasn't planning on fucking me - at least then - but he was exposed and pushing near my ass and into the mirror, hard enough where it had the potential to shatter. All the while, he'd reach around and lightly play with my nipples. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror. "Undress" was the directive. I had to get my pants, shoes, socks and boxers off without the use of my hands. It wasn't easy, but doable. Then I was to do him as well. That was a little more challenging, but soon we were both naked. More cocksucking while he lightly played with my nipples, though once in a while it'd be slightly harder. More slapping. More punching. He had me crawl behind him until he got to a chair. There he put up his feet on the ottoman and had me sit there, looking at him, my mouth to be open at all times and hands on the back of my head. "Don't swallow" was his directive. The pool of saliva started to build. He knew what he was doing. It began to run out of my mouth, down into my beard and off my chin. You could see he liked it. What I was also able to see was that for a man of few words and a seemingly pleasant face, his eyes were grey, but there was a darkness behind them that didn't impede color. The eyes were intense and said everything even if his mouth uttered not a word. Now and then, he'd reach up and smear my own spit into my beard or use it to lube his hand to stroke his own cock as he watched me intently. I swear at this time, I never saw his eyes blink as he took in everything he was doing, everything to which I was reacting and how he could all make it work to his advantage. I was ordered to lick from the toes, all the way up his body. I put my mouth to work on all his toes, even trying to get them all into my mouth at once, though I was not successful. But I did work up his body - legs, mid section, abs, chest, nipples, arm pits, arms. He pushed me away when I worked at his head. All the while my hand stayed clasped behind my head. All the while he would play a bit with my nipples. He stood up and walked away, bending over a small table in the room. I was told to crawl to him and eat his ass. Of course I did - that is one of my favorite things. I kissed it first. I licked the outside of the hole. I licked it in circles. Then I stuck my tongue in deep. Clearly he had just showered, though he didn't taste like soap. That went on for about 10 minutes. Once again I was pulled up, slapped, punched and moved towards one of the many large windows, as this was an older, established hotel. I was pressed face / chest / cock first into the window for anyone who wanted to look up five stories to see. The road below was busy with pedestrians. He was hoping someone would see and I did too. He leaned into my ear and said, "I don't know if you're a bitch boy, an exhibitionist or just want to please me". I replied, "all three, Sir". He let me go and walked away. I knew deep down not to move. I stayed in front of the window with my arms still behind my head. I heard him approach from behind me, he had brought a black leather belt with him, which went around my neck. He fastened it so that it basically became both a collar and a leash. I got down on all fours and he "walked" me to another chair where I orally serviced his cock. He tightened the collar / belt at my neck. He looked at me with intensity and a little warmth. "You have to trust me. I don't want you not breathing". I said nothing, with my silence giving my permission. More open palmed hands to my face. More punches to my gut. More nipple play. And even his nails going into my sides and being dragged upwards. He removed the belt and used it to bind my hands behind my head. There he moved me to yet another chair, had me kneel on it and bend over the back of it. I thought for sure he would fuck me, but still this did not happen. It turns out he didn't know me well enough to penetrate me that way. It did not stop him from teasing me with his hard 7" at my back door. He even reached around to touch my dick. "You're leaking something fierce", he told me. He rubbed my cock and make me clean off his fingers. He got me up and took me over to the large dining table. Oh yeah, they had one that was mirror topped. Still bound, he pushed me back so I was was lying on the cold surface facing up. He hit me multiple more times in various places. He talked about others in his stable. He talked about having me suck off others for his enjoyment. He was getting excited by his own talk, but so was I. He mentioned the burning desire and lust he could see in my eyes as he went on. It would have been hard to deny. Times here he would grab my chest hair - hard! I winced silently. I knew not to say a word and just take it. He did pull me up and I was back onto my knees. "Your two hours are almost up.". It was my job to finish him off. I worked his dick until he back it out so my mouth was back open, my tongue out. Where before I did this and was told not to swallow, we both knew this time I would be swallowing. He blasted off with a force that I have rarely seen / felt. Jets propelling his cum out of his cock head and into my mouth. Only the first hit below my mouth and the rest went in as my mouth clasped over his head. I got the rest, but didn't swallow. I opened my mouth as he pulled out. He could see his semen inside my opening. "Swallow", he flatly stated. I did. He saw me gulp his seed and he saw me wipe up that first hit that got into my beard. He smiled. The smile was less pleasant then when we began - as you might expect. He told me to dress, but he wanted my "evaluation". Partly to make him a better top, partly to admittedly stroke his own ego. I didn't have to fudge on the eval. I told him what I liked, what he did well. I told him he needed a new profile pic. I said he might have wanted to punch me harder, but he smiled. He mentioned how taken back I was with the first nipple grab, which did hurt. He told me as he went on during the two hours, he'd grab harder and harder till he got to the place he did at the first contact, but I didn't seem to notice that it got more abusive. He said he did the same with the punching. He told me not to contact him again and that next time he was in town, I would know it. No doubt I will. More...

Click here to see Defiant HIV+ Bareback Fucker's original blog post... It has not happened yet, but I already know how I want it to go, generally speaking. There is this little seed planted in my mind that will cause me to do it sooner or later... It is the same drive that once kept me visiting restrooms for understall head back in college, and still has me seeking out anonymous hole to fuck and fill with my seed from time to time, almost without any control over what I do. If my past is my guide, there is not much I can do to change this future. It is my destiny. The Steamworks in Seattle has a fuck bench in a dark public play area. I have been fucked on it several times, the last time on the verge of letting what I am about to describe happen. Indeed, if there had been more willing participants that night, I might have already crossed that line. But so far, either I have kept myself in check or there have not been enough tops willing to push me across the line. As for this fuck bench, it is like any leather upholstered fuck bench. It is in the shape of a picnic table, only small enough for a single bottom guy to lay on it face down, ass up and accessible to any and all that might want to take some ass for their own selfish needs. I have also been fucked on a bench like this in Berkeley and Chicago. It is one of my favorite ways to take on some cock. This one in Seattle though? It has restraints. A strap for each leg and one for each arm. The imagination runs wild at the sight of these straps. I have laid awake some nights imagining how the whole thing might unfold. Perhaps a fuck buddy of mine on Barebackrt.com hits me up and asks me to meet him at Steamworks. I would oblige. This time, though, he would instruct me to get a locker, strip down to nothing, leave my towel in my locker, and meet him in his room. I, of course, would follow directions to a tee. When I get into his room he would take my locker key and put it in his own in room locker for safe keeping. This would put me at his mercy, no doubt. If I want to leave with my clothes on I would have to comply with whatever he has in mind. My buddy would then bend me over the edge of his bed and, without closing the door to his room, he would smear some lube on my ass and his cock then slowly push inside me. He would pump my ass like that a bit, while others gather just outside his door to watch. In my fantasy he knows a couple of those watching and asks them to join in, but at the fuck bench. He would tell me to stand up and follow him. *** As we walk toward the darkened play area, I follow him, and his friends follow close behind me, almost as if they are going to make sure I go where they want me to go. I am amazed to find that other guys my friend knows are also waiting at the bench. They gently, but very firmly, take me by my arms and get me on the bench and strap me to it. They do this quickly without giving me so much as a chance to verbally object. A good sized jar of Elbow Grease and a bottle of Wet appear out of nowhere and my ass is promptly lubed up. With my buddy and his friends, there are now six guys standing around me, all of them stroking rather large cocks and playing with my ass while a couple are shoving their cocks in my face for me to suck. One of them gets behind me and starts humping my crack with his rigid dick. I try to look back to see who it is and immediately someone pulls a bandana out and puts it on me like a blindfold. I am now strapped down and in the dark as I feel the first cock make its way inside my ass. The guy is large and has no mercy at all. I have no choice but to take what he gives and make the best of it. When he cums he does so loudly and I make mental note of number one. One, two, three, four, five, six... I feel quite messy but it gets easier to handle. At eight we finally double my meager record of just four loads. I have shared with my friend my fantasy to double my single evening load count, but he apparently has no plans to let me up just yet. On to nine, ten, eleven, then twelve. I wonder if I am done, but it appears not. My buddy keeps me here until I get to fourteen, then I hear him take the reins. He loves to fuck a sloppy hole, and now he certainly has one. I recognize his voice and the way he fucks, but it does not take him long before he shoots. He normally has massive loads, but tonight I perceive that he cums way more than normal. He slumps down on my back and tells me that he really liked this scene a lot. I am almost speechless, but manage to tell him thank you. He climbs off and I think I am about to be set free, but apparently a few more guys are now in line waiting. I have no control, and take what I am given. I am no longer counting, as number 15 was the best load ever! Later he tells me we got to 21 and that I should remember that for future reference... *** Like I said at the start of this piece, this has not yet happened. It is a vision of what may happen to push me to my next fascination. My unavoidable predicament. While the fantasy is based in Seattle, I am currently living in San Francisco. Either place will work as long as I have no control. Are you somewhere and able to make this happen? Are you that 'buddy' that ties me down with your friends to push me beyond my safety zone? A good night to achieve this might be a CumUnion Party, in any city where they take place. If you're game, find me on Barebackrt.com and push me along... (BBVers94102) More...

To see Bend Me Over's original blog post click here I arranged to meet up with Yoshi mid-afternoon. When he arrived we were the only two in the club. He said he'd been in another sex club all night, hadn't hosed out or showered. I couldn't resist: I got him on his back, arse in the air, and dived in. For once his arsehole tasted like an arsehole rather than water and soap. I rimmed him out for a while then slid into him raw. It was good - his hole felt better than when he has cleaned out. My finger and dick were coming out clean so I told him I was going to fist him just like that, without him hosing out. I went into him real slow, first just with four fingers. When he eventually loosened up enough to take my whole fist it was quite a different feel to normal. I hadn't pushed hard to get into him and he was able to cope with me leaving it there, unlike the usual thing where after a minute he would make me take it out. I pushed a little deeper, moved around, stretched my fist. He just lay there and smiled, loving every minute. I eventually pulled out after I could feel that it was going to get a bit dirty if I stayed in him. He returned the favour. Lately he always wants to fist me. Problem is, I still struggle to react to him the way I would to a real top, plus there's something about his technique that doesn't quite work for me. After a while I took a break. While I was out having a drink another guy slipped into the cubicle and fucked him. After they had finished I went back in to see how he was. He had had a good fuck but the guy had used a condom. Toshi is like me - really wants to score a load. I offered to help. I found the used condom, turned it inside out and poured the cum into his hole, pushing the inside-out rubber in to get the maximum quantity into him. This was enough to make my dick harden up. I slid into him, this time with the other guy's cum as lube, and banged him hard until I unloaded inside him. It didn't take long. I left him there on his back, eyes closed, smiling, quietly jerking himself as two loads leaked out of his hole. More...

To see Billy Twee's original blog post click here The striking aspect of Treasure Island Media's latest production, 'Cum Whore,' is that some familiar characters don't look all that familiar. Antonio Biaggi is leaner, and with some facial hair besides a little more hair on top, and an enhanced tan. Jack Allen's nicely-styled hair and facial re-do makes his former homeless look a faint memory. Sean Storm is leaner and more angular, showing a great chin and hair, graduating from post-twink to handsome young daddy. And Peto Coast is now a silver daddy. All this is to the good. Max Sohl scores again. Treasure Island Media has big plans for Steven Daigle; he appears shirtless on the dvd wrapper. But as hot as he might be, he just doesn't come across as an uninhibited, wanton sex pig. Well, at least not yet. We'll be seeing more of him, I hope, in upcoming productions and online. He has still to grow from piglet to full-fledged pig. Maybe this vanilla pudding needs some chocolate. Steven Daigle will probably become a big bareback porn king, but probably not because of Cum Whore. I've got a feeling that the best stuff is yet to come. Tony Bishop, however, is a revelation. I have admired his profile on Rentmen where he's one of the 'Anything Goes' guys. And with that biohazard tattoo on his upper left chest, you'd have to be really dense not to get the message. Tony Bishop has only one scene: he tops Jacob Lee and we get the full view of the biohazard tat as Tony Bishops works his dick like the weapon it is. Max Sohl's on top of it, giving us Jacob's p.o.v. This is a very hot sequence, all too short, but also promise for more. Tony Bishop...more! more! Cum Whore exploits the Treasure Island Media formula: a mix of old faces, regulars and reliables with some new, fresh dick and ass. It's not as good as 'Bad Seed,' but still five stars. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here I know I've mentioned Gnarly Dicked-Day (GDD) a few times here. After our first time, most of the times, he brings along a "friend". Rarely do he and I hook up as just the two of us. Overall, this company he brings has worked out well. Strangers who he somehow finds on-line with the promise of a blowjob from a gifted oral man (me!). I assume he shows them a pic of me or points them to my profile. I don't ask. For the most part, he has chosen his friends well, but there are only so many men in town who want head - so there is always the possibility that one might actually know me. So yesterday, GDD messages me that he wants to bring one or two guys over at 11:30a. Then at 11:00a, he cancels. At 11:45a says he wants to come by at 12:00p. He's bringing some guy with him. GDD is at the door, but I know someone is trailing him by quite a few yards, and around a corner. GDD enters and goes up to my office when "Tim" comes around the corner. He is audible to me only: "are you ok with this?" I nod in the affirmative. I know Tim. I actually wrote about him back in 2009. Since that 2009 encounter, I won't say I got to know him well, but we did run into each other in a number of social gatherings - all on the up and up. He even snagged my email address from one of these to invite me to political gatherings at the major election times. I declined all of them - not because of my political beliefs or that I'd be mingling with him and his friends and colleagues, knowing what I know. I just was too cheap to spend a minimum of $250 per event. So up to my office we all go. Admittedly, I try not to make eye contact with Tim, as I don't know how he really feels about all this. Clearly he was intrigued enough to do it when he thought it was a total stranger - but I also never know what information was relayed ahead of time about what would be happening. GDD immediately starts to unfasten his belt and pants and they drop to his ankles. He pulls his underwear down to expose his flaccid dick. I get on my knees, still avoiding Tim, and put GDD's cok in my mouth. I hear Tim say "yeahhhhh". A good sign. GDD goes on to call me a litany of names - slut, cocksucker, cumdump, fag - all within the first minute of my performance. His dick grows to it's full fat 8 inches. He tells me to stay down on it and just let it rest in my mouth and throat - I do as I'm told. Soon he pushes me off and over to Tim's dick. His 7" were easy enough to get down, but he's rough. Or maybe not rough, but he jackhammers his hardening dick into my mouth. His pours smell like seeping alcohol. Not a one time drunk thing, but maybe an issue with the hooch. Hey, not to stereotype, but he is an Irish decent and a lawyer. Still, I love how the cock grew in my mouth and then would twitch. GDD tol me to lick Tim's balls. I did. I ran my tongue over the freshly shaved nuts that were protruding from the cockring that was in place. I even licked farther back, though I couldn't quite get to his hole. Still, he trembled at my touching his taint with my tongue. While I was working on one, the other would stroke his own dick. I was back to GDD getting it sloppy wet, as that is how he likes it when Tim made those sounds - the ones of impending orgasm. I knew enough to switch feeders and was back on him. He pumped off a huge load into my mouth and it was quite tasty. Just as I was finishing, GDD told me to get onto his dick. I was there for all of 10 seconds before his load went into my mouth - again, telling myself and Tim what a slut I was. For added effort, as much as I tried to avoid to someone I know how sexual I can be, GDD made sure to nip that in the bud He squeezed his dick of one last drop of cum and told me to clean it off - and I did, solidifying for the entire group what I was. Later, Tim texted me to make sure we were all cool and that no one needs to know our "little secret". I'm good with that. He said he almost bailed when they pulled up to the house (not that I ever remember him knowing where I lived), but decided to go through with it and he was glad he was. More...

Click here to see Promiscuous Top's original blog post... I often repeat on here that I love being a top, and I do-- for me, my overflowing, tender love of the male face and body leads to a reflexive desire to ram my turgid meat into it over and over and over. It's a beautiful thing. I'm not on some trip to be more masculine than I feel inside, I'm not interested in having a slave to cater to my whims or submit to me. I just love dudes, that fuckin them is how I express it. But despite all this, perhaps surprisingly, pretty much my favorite part of the male body-- with close runners-up being the hands, legs, nose, and shoulders-- is the dick. I'm a top, but I'm still gay! There is nothing more beautiful and more mesmerizing to me than a beautiful dick. I love fucking hung guys, especially when they stay hard during the fucking, so I can admire their piece while I'm reaming their backside with my own. I love checking out a dude's ass, but if a guy has a strongly visible dick straining against his pants, I will be rapt and completely unable to take my eyes away. When faced with a closeup of a particularly beautiful one on some porn blog, hidden among all the writhing bodies and limbs and ecstatic, handsome faces, I stop and just stare at it helplessly. I really love cock. This started when I was very young-- some of my earliest memories, weirdly enough, are of looking around at everyone IN CHURCH (back when my mom was still taking us, and going herself), and wondering what all the men's and boys' dingalings looked like (that was the word of choice in early 70s South Carolina, where I was living when I was very little). I gazed endlessly at the bulges of the hairy dudes in the underwear ads in People magazine in the early 80s. And before I ever actually had sex with anyone, I felt sure I was a bottom; I was attracted to nothing as much as a huge hairy dude with a giant prong and figured I just wanted such dudes to ream the fuck out of me. Well, things changed once I started getting my hands on dudes. I only had sex with two or three other guys, mostly giving them head, before I got my first serious boyfriend. The first guy I blew, when I was 18, was an older guy, pushing 40 I think if not already there, who pulled my head out of his lap with an incredulous look on his face after a few minutes, holding my face in his hands and beseeching me, "Is this *really* your first time with a guy??" I guess I was a natural. He wasn't that cute, but I was 18, he was available, his dick was pretty thick, and I sucked it probably for two hours. My first boyfriend and I took turns fucking each other, but soon it became clear that I was the top and he was the bottom. He lost interest in topping me within a couple of months and I fucked him almost every night for a year and a half. When we broke up, I went back to giving lots of head-- a big part of this was just insecurity. I would go out with guys who wanted me to fuck them, but it seemed too daunting with each new guy-- dealing with the rubber, hole placement, tightness, the baroque positioning needs so many bottoms have, the occasional mess... it was all too much. I was similarly insecure about laying back and getting sucked off, could never come from head, and just pretty much expressed my topness by taking dudes over completely and getting what I wanted from their dick. As I got older, I grew into the largely confident, proud top you read about today, fearlessly plowing and seeding bottoms from sea to shining sea. I don't suck that much cock these days, partly out of a perhaps fatuous fear of getting infected with something (I fuck raw for chrissakes-- but taking something into your body feels so much more vulnerable). But mostly because my favorite sex partners are very pliant bottoms, and they don't really want head. I do it if I feel like it, but I don't often feel like it. Except lately. Lately I keep seeing guys on the street who are so handsome, tall, bearded, hairy, stylish, serious, beautiful, and I just wanna suck the living hell out of them. I'm dying to know, like the 5-year-old in the chapel, what their dick looks like-- it's like a whole other part of his personality, hidden from all but the initiated. So I decided to seek out guys to suck off this week. I put a couple of craigslist ads out, I hit up everyone I thought I'd like to blow on Scruff and Grindr and Jackd and Growlr and whatever, I plastered Manhunt and Adam4Adam with solicitations to get dudes off. Honestly I'm a lot pickier, I think, when planning to suck someone off, than with fucking them, or having them suck me. I'm not hugely turned on by sucking off a smaller dude, for example, or a hairless dude, or a much younger dude; he's gotta be mature, hairy, manly, handsome, rather built, nicely hung, blablabla. But I did extend to offer to lots of dudes I was into; I like lots of kinds of guys. And NO ONE took me up on it! The ad I posted today on Craiglist got a total of four replies, one from a bot, one from a guy who wanted ME to suck HIM off, one from a guy who sucked me off a few weeks ago and didn't seem to recognize my pic, and one who was young and hairless and not my type. Geesh! Typically when I dangle my dick out on Craigslist asking to have it sucked, I get on the order a dozen replies within an hour; maybe none of them are my type, or I'm not theirs once I show my face pic, but the interest is there. (Not that Craigstlist is good hunting any more; used to be I would get twice as many.) More trickle in forlornly for days: "Do you still need your dick sucked? Can I please suck it?" It's a hard life out there for cocksuckers, seems like. During this exercise, it was interesting seeing a whole set of guys I usually filter out from the hookup sites-- I usually just stick to some basic searches I have set up for everyone but top and top/versatile. This time I went exclusively FOR top and top/versatile (the number of total tops is vanishingly small, seems like). It was sort of like I'd instantly moved to a new city. All these new guys to hit on! But not a single dude took me up on my offer to blow him, for three days. Ironically, one guy I cruised on a4a who had a nice hairy body and a nice-sounding profile, but decided not to write to because his dick pick showed kind of an ugly dickhead (I'm a dickhead connoisseur; it's gotta be nice), instantly saw and sent a message to ME, saying he didn't like to get fucked, but he thought my pictures were sexy and he wanted me to lay back so he could suck me and get me close to the edge over and over until I couldn't stand it any more, and then he'd let me cum in his mouth. This just from viewing his profile! Typically, of course, this is totally up my alley-- I could have written his email to me myself, as a demand rather than an offer-- but *I* wanna be the cocksucker today, dammit! But as he was just across the river and would be good for another day, I humored him, asking for a face pic. He opened some extremely cute face pix. OK, I had to get my dick in this. My experiment had gone on long enough. It was a failure. My place in the universe is topping. My sole appeal to the homosexual men of the world is my dick, and how much it shoots; and of course my "toppy" attitude and how it gets them dripping. No one is going to let me just suck their fucking dick already. I ran over to the cute guy's place and was there within 15 minutes of talking to him. His pix were not him. His body wasn't anywhere near as good, but his face was actually really nice-- not the same type of guy as in the pix, but really cute actually. And he led me to his bedroom and turned the lights down a bit and then sucked the shit out of me. For the last half hour we were just curled into each other; my face resting on his hip and my hands on his back while he lapped away at my meat with his head resting on my thigh. Sometimes I would pull his handsome face up to kiss me, and we'd stare at each other as the sun went down and it grew darker in the room, each of us stroking our meat while we made out; then I would dip down to suck on his huge nipple, which sent him into orbit-- I could feel his dick pulse every time I sucked on it-- and then he would burrow his head back between my legs and I would close my eyes and rest my head back on his hip and feel him working his slow magic on my dick. Eventually he wanted me standing up at the edge of the bed while he hunkered down and sucked me, giving me free access to his very sensitive chest. He was feeling good and looking up at me with helpless awe at the pleasure my dick was giving him. And damn if he didn't suck a gigantic load out of me, standing right there at the edge of the bed; I feel like I squirted a dozen hot hard jets into him while he fisted himself to orgasm, and then I pulled it out and fisted myself along with him, and he flopped back on the bed and came all over himself, and then I had one of those crazy second-line orgasms that had me splattering all over his groin again, which only made him cum harder. We laughed for a bit and he handed me a paper towel to clean up with. (Note to readers: this is a terrible way to clean up sticky stuff like cum. Don't do it.) He showed me how beautifully renovated apartment, which is rent stabilized for an insanely low amount of money. I was pretty jealous, as I've always wanted to live in his neighborhood, but he seemed oddly eager for me to get out of there, despite having spend an unhurried 90 minutes sucking on my dingdong. Go figure. Felt great though! More...

To see Billy Twee's original blog post click here Trolling through the Barebackrt website, I noticed that Dawson has posted an updated profile with a new location: Chicago. The Fog City's loss is The Windy City's gain, and DawsonBB (the profile handle) is looking for new friends, so I guess this move is permanent...well, at least for now. My guess is that Porn's Greatest Bareback Superstar will have little trouble making friends in his new hometown. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here His lips were soft. Possibly the softest lips I have ever kissed. It is not like he is effeminate in any way, but just the softest that have ever touched my own mouth. The irony was not lost on me, as we were in a brief set of woods, slated to do the nasty. Yet here I was - doing, and about to do, two things I normally refrain from during most of my hook-ups: kiss and fuck. He and I had been chatting for a long long time - and how he wanted my load. He is one of the few bottoms I chat with that actually turns me on by his stories. I don't like to live vicariously through other bottoms, and I am not, but his tales do make me stiffen up. He was coming through town, but only for an hour or so. I made arrangements to meet him close to the airport where he could get away and still have time for his final destination. I knew of a cemetery bathroom to use, but as I was waiting for him, I found a nearby set of woods that didn't seem to be used. I even took a stroll back there waiting for his arrival and scoped it all out. I think we'd be fine and we'd be able to hear them coming from a long ways off. He eventually showed and I escorted him back into the woods and then into a clearing. That is where our lips touched. The soft lips. While they didn't last long, we'd revisit each other's lips during our encounter. Our time was limited and we had an agenda - he'd get my load, but I'd get his too. I'm too much of a bottom just to give up my dick and my load without something in return. I'm selfish. I fully admit it. The guy (no name) turned me around so he was behind me. As he was mostly a bottom (too), he struggled a little to maintain an erection to get it into me. Of course I was understanding, as I know that has always been my lot in life and would be again - in about 10 minutes. Trial and error, but he got in and up me. He warned me days ahead of time, he would be quick. He's not accustomed to fucking and the associated stimuli. True to his word, it was not a long fuck, but I think it went longer than either of us thought - at least based on the information he provided. He groaned as his swimmers went into my ass. Now it was his turn. I think I'd make a decent top with two things - the mental status of wanting to be one and if I took viagra. If I could keep my cock hard, a whole new population of homos would love me. And while the drug would override (I'm assuming) the mental aspect of me not being a top - it's just not where I want to be. I think if you read other blogs, guys are clearly one or the other. Some are truly versatile, but those are few and far between, even if they write that way. You can see a pattern of who they are; what they prefer. I prefer bottom, but I made a promise and I would do my best to fulfill it. I would get very hard as we worked our way to penetration, but I always have trouble at that point and that day was no exception. Our verbal foreplay helped. I know things about him - his early sexual experiences, that right or wrong, turn me on. That talk is what would get me hard, we had to keep up the discussion to keep me hard. After I was in, I think we were golden. I lasted quite a bit longer. Actually, I was having trouble getting past the brink. I could feel me getting to the edge of that proverbial cliff, but I couldn't jump. For the life of me, I don't know what finally did it, but I went. ...and I shot....and shot....and shot. I had build up quite a load over the days prior to and I made sure he got everything I had stored. We left the small bottle of lube back there. We left the handi-wipe he brought back to clean off our dicks (what a boy scout!). Anthropologists from the future will know exactly what took place back there - at least to a certain degree. More...

Click here to see Sperm Pig's original post... During a recent trip to a distant city, I decided I would make a pilgrimage to a renown leather store. It’s actually less a store and more a leather palace. They have everything a fetishist could want there— including phenomenal customer service. I walked in and was a bit wide-eyed at the assortment of goods, but the sales staff was Great about making me feel welcome, asking me if I had any questions, etc. I wandered around for awhile but kept circling back to the neoprene jock section. I was drawn to the look of the codpieces and open asses. "See something you like?" Asked the tall, handsome, friendly, tattooed salesman, whom we’ll call "Jim". "I like the jocks, but the shorts are also cool looking. Which would you recommend?" "I like the shorts," Jim tells me. "But both frame an ass really well. Why don’t you try some on— what size pants do you wear?" We did the sizing rigamarole (I’m either a large or XL), I was given a jock to try and then sent back to a dressing area enclosed with a curtain. I was just in the jock when Jim walked in to check on me. “That looks like it fits well— not too tight?” He checked the snugness. They were still fairly roomy. "Let me get you those shorts in a large— I think they’ll fit you just fine." So he grabbed the ass-less neoprene shorts and brought them in for me to try. And he stood there while I changed. "Oh yeah, those fit great. And the leg straps really lift and present your ass." I modeled them a bit. “So they look okay then?” Yes, I was looking for validation. “Oh yeah,” Jim says. “The sight of your ass in those is making me hard.” Which he then proceeded to show me. He unfastened his jeans and out sprang his gorgeous, tattooed, PA’d cock. Did I say cock? I meant python. Why is it always the tall, lanky guys?? His cuntwrecker was BIG! Probably 8” easy— but the damn thing was THICK! Big head. Wide shaft. My asshole quivered at the thought of taking it, but I was in a leather store dressing room! I wanted him to fuck me so badly, but I was nervous too! He was huge, I had no poppers, and this was in public— like people changing in the adjoining curtain spaces public! He told me the PA comes out easily, and he showed me. Once it was out, that was it. I was sucking on his fat prong in a heartbeat. He pulled the curtain a bit more closed for some more privacy. And it wasn’t long before I was bent over the chair in the dressing room while he lubed up. (This particular dressing room had complementary lube and paper towels handy). Had we been more alone, I would have made a LOT more noise as his massiveness tore into me. Even with poppers, I would have struggled, but this was fucking the old fashioned way with no enhancements. I tried my best to relax and take it and do breathing exercises. It hurt like a motherfucker going in— but once he hilted out, I was good. I had him all and was in heaven. "Damn you’re huge!" I whispered as he started slow humping my hole. His hands worked up to my nipples, which made my hole twitch madly on his dick. My ass opened up and he felt GOOD inside. But I wanted his load. I wanted him to breed me deeply, right there, in the store, other customers be damned. I needed it. Looking back over my shoulder, I begged him quietly for his cum. It didn’t take long and soon, in front of the dressing room mirrors, he’s dumping his nuts in my guts. I milked him for all I was worth. Just knowing that I had been knocked up by this hung sales associate made me giddy! I suppose I was cumdrunk or something. It was goddamn awesome. "Yeah, I think I’ll take the shorts." I told him as he slowly pulled out. But I wasn’t done. I wandered the store a bit more, picked up a few more items, and was chatting relaxedly with Jim when another sales associate walked by. Cute, young, and in tight leather pants, which showed off his cock nicely. (He dresses “right”). I commented on it to Jim, and he called over — well, we’ll call him “Josh”. I told Josh that I quite liked his pants and the view. We joked around a bit and suddenly he laughs amiably and says, “Do you wanna suck my cock?” I nodded that I did. With that I was led to yet another dressing area in a different part of the store. This was basically just short curtains on chains that “sort of” blocked those trying on clothes from view. I quickly knelt down as he unbuttoned his leather pants. Once his cock was free, I started sucking like a man possessed. His cock was beautiful and the longer I sucked the harder it got. And harder. And HARDER! I could feel every vein standing out on his shaft, and the ridge of his head was so tense, his head so swollen AND angry! It was awesome to see my mouth was giving him this reaction. While sucking, I occasionally snuck glances in the mirror so I could see myself at work. Man was it hot to have this leatherclad stud standing there letting me worship his dick! I really am a whore for a guy in leather. It just turns my crank, what can I say? He let out appreciative moans and the occasional “oh fuck yeah!” Looking up at his face while I worked his cock was such a fucking turn on I didn’t even mind that there was a guy changing right next to us, obviously aware of what was happening. I would have been content to keep sucking him, but he technically *was* on the clock, so I started using my hand to help things along. I worked his shaft with both my mouth and hand which he seemed to enjoy. I could tell he was getting to the edge because his hands found my shoulders, and I could feel his hands slowly tightening and gripping my t-shirt. Then with a little grunt, my mouth was receiving a nice liquid reward. I held him in my mouth and worked him slowly, so I could get every drop. I enjoyed watching him tuck his spent cock back into his leather pants. If only if had more time… Damn. As it was, I left the store with a bag of goodies and two wonderful “souvenirs”. And one helluva good story about the art of customer service! Part of me hopes they find this blog and read my account of it. More...

Click here to see original post on Smooth Butt For Mature Tops... was hosting anonymous cock the other night at my hotel room...the usual scene involving a craigslist ad, me naked except my jockstrap, blindfolded and on my knees with the door open and lights down low. i had already had one visitor and he was pretty ordinary...not bad...just not remarkable. the second visitor stopped by with the first visitor's sperm still drying on my chin. i sniffed poppers as he quietly entered my room. his description was pretty hot and i kinda knew this was going to be hot cock to blow...and hopefully spread my asscheeks for. more of this story to cum... More...

To see Bend Me Over's original blog post click here It didn't start well. I couldn't host and it turned out he wasn't prepared to go to a sex club. Eventually he said I could go to his place but by that stage it was late and the rain was pissing down. When he met me at the station I figured I should wind back my expectations. He had a kind of rive gauche look to him, including owlish glasses and beret, and came across as a bit camp. It got a bit more interesting once we were in his place and he had his pants off. He was tall and skinny and had a big dick – my favourite combination. And he knew what he wanted. He was a bit of a kinkster: didn't waste much time before getting my pants off and getting his tongue deep into my hole, then into my pits. Then he was fucking my face. Before long he had rubbered up and was sliding into my hole, initially in missionary position. He was big and stayed completely hard, and when he pushed in all the way it hurt. That didn't stop him. He had me on my back then doggie style then on my side. In between times he was back licking my hole or getting me to rim him or sticking his tongue down my throat. Time for an interlude. He threw me a towel and told me to follow him into the bathroom. He had been chugging beer and Red Bull and water. Now I knew why. He had me on my knees and then hosed me down. His dick stayed half hard. He eventually came just lying next to me and jacking himself. He wouldn't put his dick into me bb but he jerked off all over my hole then rubbered up again and pushed all his jizz into me using his dick. It was enough to tip me over the edge. So now I'm home in bed with a sore arse and a smile on my face. I'll be back for more of that. More...

Click here to see Promiscuous Top's original blog post... Then again, sometimes sex just fucking flows. There is nothing between your pleasure and your body and your partner's body and your partner's pleasure. And today I got that with The Really Handsomelich German Cocksucker. I spent the morning cruising for raw ass and waiting for a very late contractor to show up and give me an estimate; no one much was biting so I went to get lunch on the southern end of my neighborhood, not far from TRHGC's place, and he saw me close by on Scruff and invited me over to get my dick sucked. I back-burnered him a little bit as I had my lunch-- we are having sex an awful lot lately-- and then got played on Manhunt by a hot ass in Chelsea who was not for real but got me seriously boned right there in the restaurant. So I figured, what the hell, I'll go let this extremely good looking guy take care of my needs. And it was awesome, despite being like our fifth or sixth time hooking up. There is just no substitute for good chemistry. And good looks. This guy is a shameless, tireless cocksucker, just like all the others-- he just can't get enough of my meat. And he always tells me he wants to make me feel good. But there is no performance at all with him. I am not inspired to, nor do I feel required to, say elaborately exciting things about what we're doing or my dick or his mouth or refer to him in any particular way or any of that. We just fucking love each other's body and face and dick. The things we say are simple and true and obvious. He is a bit taller than I like, and rather smoother than I like, but his body is so long, sensual, and beautifully elegant-- lightly and naturally muscled, a lovely healthy brownish tint to his teutonic skin. His dick is beautiful and long and hard and straight but he doesn't like me touching it too much, because he gets very sensitive, flows precum like crazy, and would cum if I spent too much time there. But when I put my hands on his lightly muscled chest, his tight, gently sculpted torso, impossibly flat and taut stomach, long lean but slightly swelling limbs, he sighs, his head tips back, his eyes close, and I know I am filling him with pleasure, overfilling him with pleasure. He clearly loves my dick but declares it in a straigtforward way, pulling it out of his mouth, admiring it matter-of factly, looking me in the eye with an open, honest face, and says, "I love sucking your dick." And I feel it when he sucks it. He loves my dick. I love his body. I love eating his ass and trying to probe him with my tongue. I would love to slip my bare bone in him. He seemed to want it today, hiking back his legs, exposing his hole to me frankly, and sighing how good it felt when I slicked up my dickhead with his precum and swirled it around the opening. But he is extremely tight. I could not get it in. I just held his body close to me, pressed into him, and slid my dick alongside his, slippery in his precum, only separating our bodies so I could admire his, see our dicks there together, drink it all in. I think it helped that this time I smoked half of his customary pre-suck spliff. Not enough to get baked, but enough that as we talked and nuzzled and smoked, my body grew warm and pulsing and my dick hardened almost painfully in my pants. He sat halfway out the window, one foot on the fire escape and one on the floor of the kitchen, dick lolling out of the leg of his shorts, idly tugging at his foreskin, blowing the smoke out elegantly, like a European does, and I asked for a little. And when I felt my dick throbbing against my fly, I unzipped it and pulled it out and he got to his knees right there in the window and sucked me, making me ache even more. I was wearing grey cords and a black shirt with some bright neon stripes across the chest. My pale hard fat dick stood out starkly; it was almost like I was my own walking glory hole. He is beautiful with my dick in his mouth. We had sex for almost two hours. He began begging for my load after an hour, but I didn't want it to end, I kept switching our position and the activity, but he wanted it so bad, I let him have it. This time when he felt my dick start oozing the hot salty sperm-clouded precum I flow with when I am sloooowly edging up to orgasm, he only sucked more greedily, and did not let up when my ejaculate thundered out. I heard him gulping and saw the bliss on his face at making me cum, tasting me cum, being a part of my cumming. I held his body and came inside him over and over. It was too intense, I had to pull out. He watched greedily as I jerked the last bits of cum out of myself, but wanted to drink even those. I was extremely sensitive and my whole body was twitching. But he wanted it and I let him have it even though it was actually rather excruciatingly. And then I stroked his beautiful body and made out with him while he pleasured himself. He asked me to play with his hole. "I love the way you play with my hole," he said, again very matter-of-factly. So I played with his hole. I stroked his beautiful tight flank. I looked deeply into his eyes, scanned his face for the millionth time, and he shot long hot jets of beautiful spooge all over himself. And we just laughed and laughed. He hopped up to clean himself up, and then apologized and checked his phone, which had been randomly bonging and chiming the whole time we were rolling around. It was his partner; apparently he was going to have to rush away and go to couple's therapy! We talked for a good while about our relationships, being open with other people, why our sex is so good together. The pot and the incredible release he'd given me had me very garrulous, almost cluelessly so; when it became clear I was holding him up I felt silly. He sort of shooed me out and I tripped out into the cool afternoon, surrounded by orthodox Jew children playing in their 19th century getups. As usual he msged me on Scruff, apologizing for the bum's rush and thanking me for the good sex. It's a nice little ritual. Maybe I've found the one guy I can cum in over and over and not get tired of! I wonder if he will let me fuck him? God, the pleasure I'd feel at unloading my nuts deep inside his lovely, elegant, beautiful body! Ah well, we shall see. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here A buddy of mine mentioned recently that once you get some black cock, a signal goes out to other black men saying you're open for business. It's not quite the same as that old phrase, 'once you go black you don't go back'. I have gone back - and forth - quite a bit. I had my first black dick when I was 16. Even end of last year and the beginning of this, I have had some I've written about and many that I have not. And of course, last month, you read about me and the DL Professor. You did not read about four other DL guys - one who did fuck me, one who attempted to fuck me and two others for whom I got down on my knees. And there's another one in the wings. Or on deck. Choose your theater or baseball analogy according to your Butch Level. The one who attempted to fuck me was on A4A. Nice dick, iffy guy. A slim guys, but his belly was bloated / distended like he needed it tapped and drained. Considering he was living next to a hospital, maybe that was his deal. He wanted to fuck but had no skills. I like wham-bam stuff, but he was just bad at it. Painfully bad - and I mean that in every way. I finally made him stop and I sucked him off. It wasn't what I wanted, but sometimes that's not always possible. I have no illusions about returning, though he messages me almost every single day, but doesn't get the hint. I guess I'm being too nice. One of the feeders is a solid guy, taller than I am, maybe 6'4", but 230 or so. 8" he claims, but is closer to 7". He's not fond of flakes, but failed to show one time; was here for 45 seconds the second and had to bolt and finally showed up a week later and stayed that third time. He might qualify as a flake. The cock was nice. His filthy mouth demeaning me was nicer. "White cocksucker" or "white faggot" came out of his mouth repeatedly. I mean, he was flaking and I still let him in and was on my knees - he knew the score. I worked on him a good 30 minutes before he gave up his nut. The seed was ok but nothing I couldn't handle. I took every drop. I haven't heard from him since. The other guy was even more DL. Answering from Home Depot and stopping by on his way to wherever he was going. More blue collar, more street than the other guys, with a big whopping 8.5" cock. He was quiet, but assertive in his hip action into my mouth. He was a little grimy for me - and I really mean unshowered and a little bit rank. I like that to a degree, but there is a point where it's just not fun. Still he shot a big load - one I took. He mentioned having my email and would use it again, but I have heard nothing from him. Nor did I expect to. I think he was so heavy on the down low that he wasn't going to reach out to anyone repeatedly. Honestly, I know I had another feeder, but he isn't standing out to me as anything special. But as for the one who pumped my ass, he was a quiet guy. 60 (yes, 60!), but an incredible gym-built body with a little bit of hair on his worked-out pecs. While his profile said 8", he was 7, maybe even 7.5", but he wasn't 8. He wasn't as thick as he claimed either. Not bad, but I knew I wasn't going to have difficulty taking it - not that that says much about me. :@) We started with me bent over a desk. That worked for a while, but then he wanted me on all fours. I like it that way - but let's face it, there are few ways I don't like it. With his exchange on-line, he would have been mistaken for more verbal, but he was not. As I said earlier, he was quiet. He knew what he was doing with that cock and body, as he pumped my ass while on our knees, but he wasn't nearly as aggressive as I imagined he might. After about 10, he just told me to get flat on my belly. Lately, this seems to be the go-to position for a lot of guys. Clearly, I've been topped this way before (even by the first black guy I was ever with), but within the last 8 months or so, it seems more standard. I'm not opposed to it, but I'm not sure how these "trends" take off. Or maybe it's just coincidence. He put his weight on top of me and started really sawing at my hole. It felt good. WAY sooner than I thought, he was going "yeahhh.....yeahhh.....hell yeahhhhh". Now, he never said he was cumming, but I could feel the jumps and pulses of his black cock up my white ass. He was unloading up there as he continued to loudly moan "yeahhhhhh". Yeah, indeed. He said we'd do it again. I haven't heard from him since. Maybe there is a signal out there that I've been entertaining black guys lately. Maybe their internal network is all abuzz. Time will tell. More...

Click here to see Taken Like A Champ's original blog post... I was walking through Grand Central Station the other day, which I used to do on a more regular basis but not so much anymore, when I thought I heard someone call my name. I turned around and didn't see anyone I recognized, but there was one guy looking straight at me. I was ready to turn back around when he nodded toward me and asked, "Will? Will Win?" Busted, lol. My screen name on Xtube and elsewhere (dudesnude, etc.) is obviously not my real last name but when this guy had both names I knew he had to know me from some gay porn site that I belong to, probably one where my full face pic is actually posted (I keep it off of Xtube). I smiled right away and said Hey, then walked over closer and said something like "How you doin?" so anybody who was still nearby would think we might've known each other. No one paid a bit of attention to us, of course. It was New York City after all. That was it. We didn't pretend to know each other and he didn't bother me with questions or chat or anything else, thank god. I really wasn't looking forward to talking about the latest hot BBC video I had creamed to, or whether my hole was leaking black man jizz at that moment, and there have been times when I've been in Grand Central and other public places where that was a distinct possibility. He just said he thought he had recognized me from my profile photo (I've given a few guys a Facebook link; otherwise, you can just look me up on dudesnude and use the password naked for private pics). I could tell he was a little excited to have actually met the real Will Win, and that made me feel momentarily more important than I really am. He was older, not bad looking, not tall, not overweight, and not a top (or at least not the kind of top that would turn me on), but he was totally cool. I mumbled something about having to get going and he had to go too but I smiled the whole time and was probably chuckling about it all to myself as I turned and continued heading to my train. I wish now that I had asked his profile name but didn't want to run the risk of outing him either. (Hey, if you read this, hit me up! And thank you for not stalking me! lol). I sort of looked at other people differently from that point on, just in case I sparked another reaction of Xtube recognition. lol.... What are the odds of this happening anyway? I once bumped into the metrosexual hotness that is Caleb Lane and chatted with him briefly, but he's an international model and he must get that all the time, not just from folks seeing him in my all-time favorite gay-themed short film, "Seeing You in Circles." Has any other regular joe on Xtube or elsewhere ever been recognized in public based on his profile pic? --will More...

To see SFVersCumBoy's original blog post click here As I was changing into my jock and gym shorts I saw a hot shaved head swimmer walk by. He made definite eye contact and checked out the PA. Later, after I had showered and was thinking of hitting the steam room he happened to walk bare ass into the shower area. I made a point of stopping at my locker and looking back over my shoulder. He looked back as he dropped his towel and stepped into the shower. Well, now... I headed into the steam and sat on the bench. It was not long before I was joined by the swimmer. I always sit with my towel off. It is usually hot enough, and it gives a perfect opportunity to check out the interested parties. After a couple of minutes, he looked over and noticed my semi hard cock. That was all it took for him to open his towel and let me glimpse his stiffening cock. Shaved head, naturally smooth lean swim built body, and a cock that perfectly in my hand. An apple shaped large head topped it all off. I motioned for him to come closer and then leaned in to take his cock into my mouth. After a couple of quick slurps and tongue lashings, he shuddered a bit and pulled me off. He was already on edge. Taking that cue, I gave him a couple of seconds reprieve...then, I just had to go back down. This time I slipped his entire 8 inches of cock into my throat. As the last inch hit the back of my throat, I opened up and pushed further until his balls were hitting my chin and my nose was buried in his pubes. He let me stay there for a few seconds and I knew he was almost there. I came up off his cock and kept my hand around the shaft and near the head. I went back once more and he let me deep throat him a few times before stopping. At this time he asked if I wanted to swallow his cum - of course I immediately said yes...and went right down. I let his apple head sit on the back of my tongue for a moment and then plunged down. That was all he needed, and suddenly his cock was spasming and he was shuddering with release. His balls pulled up into his body, and I could feel the thickness filling my throat. During the entire climax I kept his head in the back of my throat. I did not want to miss a drop. Just as I felt the last shudder, I was pulling off as he motioned to me that we were about to have a visitor. Sitting back up, I let the last drop slide down my throat as I savored the flavor of his seed. More...

Click here to see Promiscuous Top's original blog post... Last night I spent an hour and a half with legs splayed, arms outstretched and slack, head tipped back, eyes closed, cock turgid, while a hairy cumfreak slobbered all over my groin, eagerly getting me close to orgasm, then obeying when I said to back off, waiting to sense the feeling had subsided, then working my dick again to the precum-ozzing brink, over and over. I came so hard when I finally gave in to the pleasure that my balls were sore for almost an hour afterward. Dude cleaned me out completely. About half an hour in, the guy told me, between slurps, "The last guy I sucked off for 35 minutes, and he said that was a long time." I looked him in his pale green eyes. "That's not a long time," I scoffed. "I'll show you a long time. You suck that dick all you want. That dick is all yours" And he ate it up. He gave me more and then said, "Your dick is mine? All mine?" I grinned a little, and taunted, "Yes.... for today." This actually made him laugh, and grab my tool, and just gaze at it with delight from different angles. He told me he loved my dick, but even more, he said, he liked my "attitude." There is something of a performance aspect to being an oral top... and something terribly needy about being an oral bottom-- deeply, psychologically needy, I think, almost Freudian. Not just a homely "Oh I NEED dick, I NEED cum," but "I need praise, I need to be filled, I need something I don't get from everyone." One of the things that cocksucking dudes seem to respond to most, no matter who they are, is being called a "good boy." And the ironist in me loves getting that reaction from, say, a huge muscular dude who's pushing 40 and could get a much hotter guy than me. But many tops don't inhabit the role right, they don't give the performance required, they're mean, they're cocky, they're stupid. So these particular cocksuckers, whose entire soul can seem to reside in their mouths and bellies, gravitate towards guys like me. Today I can't quite remember any highlights of the constant stream of sexy nonsense that issued from my mouth during this epic service session. I made a big show of pulling my tool out of his mouth when I felt myself producing precum, and slowly squeezing it up through the tube along the length of my dick till it beaded up, a clear and sparkling little globe nestled in the involuted curves of my fleshy fat dickhead. And he made a big show of stopping short, dazed, hypnotized by my sex, worshipful of my dick and everything it produces, slowly leaning in and extending his tongue to dip into the sweet nectar, like a butterfly on a honeysuckle of meat, pulling away slowly so that the bead extended into a long glistening string of goo connecting him to me. He liked when I used my dick muscles to pulse my meat in his mouth, and would do the same rapt, stopping routine to demonstrate his pleasure and reverence of my sex. "God, I love feeling that," he'd say after a respectful interval, and I would pulse it hard, at the rhythm and speed of my ejaculation, and say, "This is how it's going to feel when I cum in you." He asked me to do it two more times. "Show me how it's going to be when you cum," he would sigh, and I would demonstrate for him again, and his face would go slack and helpless. This big hairy, meaty, helpless man crouched between my thighs, taking and giving, never letting up. "I knew you were going to be good," I said at one point, after he discovered a way to amuse himself with obscene, animalistic slurping motions involving his lips, tongue, and entire head. It felt pretty good actually but was a bit much. I wasn't lying or pretending-- he was really good and had the perfect attitude-- but I had calculated this utterance to make him even hotter for my dick. He pulled off and looked me in the face. "How did you know?" Something at the bottom of his spine had been tickled by what I said and was flushing it's way through his blood stream, I could tell. "You can tell," I said authoritatively. "It can just be a word or two that you say online. But you can always tell." And that is also pretty true. But it just made his face almost crumple with pleasure and helplessness and more need to be stuffed full of tubesteak and drink cum. Counterintuitively, praising his skill makes a good cocksucker more helpless than ever. At this point he was nothing without my praise and without my meat inside him and he knew it and I let him know I knew it. He worked at me with renewed vigor... exactly what I'd intended. You can't let these things get stale, or you can't make it last. There is something a little sad about these sessions, despite how hard they make my erection, how dizzying being held over the cliff of orgasm by a skilled cocksucker, dangling only by your dick. I'm a pretty intelligent guy, I have a master's degree, almost finished a PhD! I have a husband, friends, a life. But for untold hours of my life, I'm reduced to this purely sexual being, coaxing another guy to spend as much time as possible on this sexual rite by thinking up new ways to say the few things you can say in this situation, given the few parts involved, the small universe of pleasure and pleasing and cocks and cum and nipples and tongues. It is both a terribly narrow world and a vast, wide, dazzling one. It can be conflicting. He wanted me to warn him when I was going to cum; he told me an entire liturgy I was to say in that event. I don't follow direction well, though; when he had edged me for the fourth time and I knew I couldn't take any more of that, after a long period of silence when I was slack and open and mindless, I lifted my head up, looked at my fat fuckstick between his lips, felt the tension rising, and said simply, "I'm close... but I think I'm going to have to let my dick do the talking." And it did... grew more and more rigid with each stroke of his tongue, and poured out one long smooth stream of precum on his tongue, and then began furiously pulsing out over a week's worth of ejaculate. "Don't stop, just keep hitting that spot," I said rather urgently, and he obeyed perfectly, and a ******* of sperm flooded into him; he was having trouble keeping it in his mouth and some spilled down the side of my dick, ran along an engorged vein, stopped by the thicket of my pubes. He pulled off and coughed, and stared at my dick intently, caught his breath, and sucked me more. I was just coming down, but the renewed sucking did something to me, I wanted to cum again instantly, I really felt it, so I pushed him off and jerked my dick up and down until it began pulsing again; not much came out but this instant second orgasm was so much more intense than the second that I had to cry out. "How'd you DO that," he asked, gazing at my dick, watching me squeeze out more white goo. "I don't know," I said, "it just happened." He wanted me to play with his nipples while he beat off his own fat, meaty cock. I swiped a bunch of the wasted cum out of my pubes and coated his nips with it, and flicked the newly gooey nubbins gently while his body stiffened and his dick shot out a few ribbons of grey liquid. It was good. He was pretty damn good. I went to go clean out my pubes and get dressed, and we chatted amiably about Adam4Adam, where we met; he'd recently signed up and thought everyone there was a useless flake. He started to go on about it, caught himself, visibly felt foolish, but I told him I understood, there was a lot of wasted time there. Sometimes even when you score, even when it's good, you wonder if you've wasted your time! He gave me an incredible orgasm, but I will need another one before too long. I'm not the type who can just get off and be satisfied. I need that performance myself, I need that epic investment of time, I need the long slow buildup. It's not the most important thing to me. I don't need it every day. But I need it every time I need it. And I'm glad I'm gay, and there are men out there with the complementary need. Sometimes we find each other and it is the purest satisfaction there is. He's stuffed with my cum and my head and nuts are cleared. Balance is restored... ...until it's showtime again. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here Within the last 90 minutes, I have taken what is possibly the biggest load I have ever encountered. At least orally. He came to me via a CL ad I placed. Either too cavalier or stupid to use an email account that doesn't have his first and last name on it, he was looking for a noon-time blowjob. He was new to me. 50 or 55, 5'11", 180, dark, greased back hair with a hint of grey to it. The scalloped wedding ring. And a diamond stud in his left ear - one he was way too old to be try to pull that off. With the clothes he wore, he would remind you off a guy who managed a Merry-Go-Round, if they still existed (or maybe they do). Neither here nor there. I wasn't there to judge him on his dress or earring, but on his 7.5" cock he claimed to have. I was skeptical as I rubbed him through his pants. I was still not sure as I rubbed him through his tight boxer briefs. Once those came down, out sprang a semi-hard 5" penis. Respectable, but I wasn't sure it would get to the advertised size. With a hit of poppers, I placed my lips to his head and immediately sank all the way down. No teasing - not yet. With my mouth I helped him grow. We'd all like to think it was just with out mouths or asses, but some of it is mental on their part too. Yes, we as a gender think with out dicks, but we can't always control them with our northern brain. He did grow to his full size. But maybe 7.25". Still not bad and a good sized thickness. The man was beyond reserved. It would take him a few therapy sessions to get TO reserved, he was that low key. No words. No sounds. Not a grunt or groan as I worked his meat with my lips, mouth, tongue and throat. A few times, he touched my left, and only left shoulder, while pivoting himself slightly to his left. At first I thought he was just steadying himself for the head I was giving. After the third time, I made an assumption is was some kind of physical indication he was close to orgasm. I can normally tell by other reactions, but he had such small nuts to begin with, feeling if they pulled up and in was a no-go. His lack of response, verbally, to my attention was a non-starter. But with his head at my throat, I felt a pulse. Then two, then three. He was shooting directly into my throat. Since I like to taste it, I pulled back. Four, five, six, seven - up to nine pulses, easily. Each time I thought the volume would slow down or lessen, it remained at least as strong as the one before. I am proud to say I kept every fucking drop. I am not as proud to say how much I struggled to keep up with the amount of seed this guy had. I struggled, I gagged, my eyes watered a bit. I like to think I'm a better cocksucker than this, but on the other hand, I need to be challenged now and again. I like my limits pushed. I like honing my skills. This guy did that. What kills me is, he wasn't trying to do any of that. He was standing as still as possible, saying absolutely nothing, and letting some unknown guy take his dick into his mouth. I'm glad he gave me no warning of what was to come. Maybe he didn't know. But I shoot huge loads and the few times I do get sucked, I warn the cocksucker about my shooting because they always say they can take it and they almost never can. But I didn't want him to be me, the feeder. Catch the cocksucker off guard, let him work for it, surprise him - and that's what this guy did. For the life of me, it is quite possible the biggest load I have ever swallowed. And let's face it, that's saying something. A few times I've been 'round that track...... I promised him I wouldn't contact him, but if he ever wanted another go-round, he knew how to get a hold of me. More...

To see Billy Twee's original blog post click here There's certainly been a lot of buzz out there about the new Max Sohl/Treasure Island Media video, 'Cum Whore.' It may be out in the stores (when I checked last week it wasn't available at my usual haunt, Rock Hard in San Francisco), which interests me since I intend to buy this one for my collection; my being totally old school and not into buying air time online. So, obviously I haven't seen this video beyond the teaser on the Treasure Island Media website. It looks better than promising; it's looks positively nasty, vile and fabulous. I'm particularly interested in seeing Sean Storm, looking better than ever on the cusp of 40, but more about Sean in another post; everybody knows I'm already a fan of his. This Steven Daigle character is the source of all the buzz online. There's a lot of speculation as to his HIV status. He had something of a career working for Sister Superior condom Nazi Miss Chi Chi LaRue (Chi Chi's position on safe sex is well-known and non-debatable) and then some stuff for Raging Stallion. But his latest move into bareback has fueled a lot of rumors. The roadmap for a career in porn usually takes the bareback offramp when one converts to HIV-positively. Why this is customarily seen as a bad, regrettable affair is beyond me. A lot of formerly mainstream guys really get loose and crazy in their porn performances for the bareback studios, and I'm thinking of the great Matt Sizemore here. So, Steven Daigle appears in three scenes in the new 'Cum Whore' aptly named video, with his butt the territory of Antonio Biaggi (of course), Peto Coast (hmmmm) and old reliable negative Brad McGuire, among others. I'll leave it up to you guys to decide for yourselves whether Steven is a member of The Club, but let me say this much: any bottom who gives it up in such an unhibited, wanton style is not worrying about catching da bug. What little I've seen has been superb, so here's a video I'm actually going to buy without renting first...and I think all those discriminating video collectors out there who are actually buying the hard dvd editions will be well-advised to open their wallets for this one. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here I get a message on Scruff as I was working. A guy saying 'hey' and 'what's up?' I said I was on-line, looking for a load, "if I am being honest", I added. He liked that. His screen name was 'Sir' and is a total top. So when he asked where I wanted the load, I was smart enough to answer, "that's not up to me, Sir". He liked that even more. He was working too, but at a bar. It was 12:30p, how many people could be in a fucking gay bar a little after noon? Apparently one. The customer must be a sad sack or bar-fly. But the bartender said we could use the men's room for me to suck him off. I had some time, so I agreed. I told him I'd be there in 30. It'd take me 20, but I knew I needed gas, so the moral of this story is never be on fumes - you don't know when you'll have an immediate sex opportunity. 31, 6'2", a slim 165. Buzzed head - he looked like a slightly emaciated skinhead. His profile picture didn't do him any justice, something I'd tell him after we finished. He was much more handsome in real life. When I got to the bar, there were now three customers. I missed him sending me a message saying to 'forget it' as he was now busy. I was already outside the bar - fuck it, I was going in. Two of the three customers finished their "lunch" by slamming them back and leaving - which left the one other customer. With no words, the bartender walked to the bathroom. I followed about a minute later, which I'm sure was obvious to the remaining customer. If he was a regular, he'd probably seen this played out before. I highly doubt this was the first and only time this has happened. The bathroom had a stall with a door. No bartender to be seen, so I pushed open the stall door and there he stood - massaging his already exposed cock. It was a nice size, but still soft - hard to say where it would go. I shut and locked the door, dropped my pants and sat on the toilet. I leaned in and took his cock in my mouth. He liked it. I worked it up - all 7.5". Think inches, but still 7.5. The cock went deep in my throat. I was aggressive at sucking, but he took my head into his hands for control. I have to remember who is a top and who is a pushy bottom. I rather not be that guy, but some claim to be tops really have no idea, but this guy did. We were there for about five minutes and he warned he was getting close. At this point I assumed it would be all mouth action, but he pushed me off his dick and asked me where I wanted the load. I, again, deferred to him, but he wasn't having any of that. "Where do YOU want the load?" "Up my ass", came the reply. He got a shit-eating grin on his face and in a second I was standing, pants still around the ankles and bent over the toilet. While still taking a hit of poppers, he jammed his prick into my hole. I believe he had fucking skills, just not space or time to use them. The man fucked me for another five minutes and asked, through his now shallow breath, "where do you want this load?" Again, I said, up my ass. He came back with, "are you sure?". At that point, I reached behind me and found his belt loops, as his pants were not pulled down. I grabbed a hold of those and pulled him into me. That was all it took. The man unloaded and unloaded and unloaded into my ass. I could feel it - the twitching, the heat. As his breathing started to regulate, the door opened. He signaled for me to be quiet, but anyone could have seen two sets of feet, both facing the same direction, in that stall. The positioning of the feel would have easily indicated someone standing right behind someone else....so close, in fact, that they'd still be in them......which he was. The bartender did not go soft. ...or at least, that soft. Wouldn't you know it, the new occupant had to be the only person in a gay bar in the middle of the day who'd wash and blow dry his hands after peeing. C'mon, you know most in a dump like that wouldn't - or wouldn't even know they should. The bartender says he has to move because that was not the same customer that was out there. He slips out of my ass and before he has a chance to see if he needs to tidy up, I go down on him for a minute. He seems grateful. But he stuffs his softening cock back into his pants, no underwear and heads out. I stay put for a minute and actually wash my hands. I go back to the bar where my ginger ale is now watered down by the melted ice. I get a look from both patrons, but barely an acknowledgment from the bartender. He got what he wanted. I got what I needed. If he sees me on-line again and reaches out, that's great, but I won't stalk or bother him at all. More...

Click here to see Sperm Pig's original post... I call him a kid even though he’s 26. It’s still comparatively young— especially when he wants to fuck me. I generally only go for daddies. But he’s been persistent and we’ve been texting back and forth for quite some time trying to come up with a mutually agreeable meetup. It worked out for us last night at 6 pm. He shows up and he seems a bit shy— especially given all the ass he fucks. He also seems like he might be on something (very dilated pupils). But he’s cute. Blonde. Decently muscular. And obviously not wearing underwear. We start messing around— which consists of no kissing, no rimming, and no sucking of me. Just me basically on my knees blowing him. Then we stripped and got down to business. He was quite specific about how he wanted to fuck. Me on my back. Me working his nipples— LIGHTLY. As in barely brushing them. And I needed to pull my legs toward my chest while working his nips. While he had a nice cock (6.5” or so), all the caveats on the fuck made it… mechanical. And it was a fairly uncomfortable fuck, too, as it turns out. He was rolling me up onto my shoulderblades which was kind of crushing my neck. And then the shape and length of his cock along with the stroke angle allowed his dick to just stab into my prostate and bladder. During the entire fuck (45 minutes of fairly continual pumping) it felt like I was gonna piss myself. And he was poking precum out of me like crazy. It was coating my belly by the end. The kid may have bred me a couple times during the fuck. Or maybe once with a ton of edging and precum. It would appear that he was ready to blast, but then he’s just pause for a bit and start sawing away again. All I know is that my ass was getting very used— and felt very wet. Like more wet than just lube would make me. But I will say this: when the boy finally came, (finished) it was intense. As he got closer and closer his nips got more and more erect. And my light brushing just made him go crazy and made his cock like steel. And the liquid heat inside my ass felt incredible. I kept his donation inside me as long as I could the rest of the evening, but eventually I was just too “full feeling”. So I purged him. It was a lot. And then this morning at 4 am when I got up to piss, I farted and BLOP! Out poured even more of his load! It was still on the bathroom floor when I finally got up. More...

Click here to see Promiscuous Top's original blog post... Today was another of these I-really-just-need-to-get-off days I've been having so many of lately; I was out of commission all last week with a crazy allergy/cold combination that seemed to engulf the entire east coast, and work has been pretty brutal, so my poor testicles have been overloaded indeed with their daily production going unspent for over a week. Infuriatingly, a very good-looking guy who hit *me* up on BBRTs, sent *me* his number, asked *me* if he could come over immediately, and told *me* he'd be over in 10 or 15 minutes, suddenly clammed up, and when prodded 20 minutes later told me "Oh I'm still waiting for them to bring my car up." I pointed out that he'd told me he was leaving quite a while before, and he said, "I did leave, my car just isn't ready." Of course then I never heard from again; are these people also lying to themselves, as well as me? Did he really think he was still coming, and just waiting for his car to be "brought up" (from below the earth's mantle, apparently)? Ugh! But this frustration put my horniness into overdrive. Unfortunately, work was still busy and no one was biting. Towards the end of the day, I hit on a furry, extremely cute, visiting British guy in Hell's Kitchen. We did some back and forth, and he demurred on a raw fuck, saying he likes it but prefers to know the top better first. I thought I'd scared him off, but I told him, "Hell, I'd be happy just making out with you and humping all over you-- you're extremely cute." He rather unexpectedly took me up on my offer-- he was of a type that is never interested in me, so I was surprised. His hotel was waaaay on the west side, about 4 long blocks from the nearest subway. He said as long as I could get up there in enough time for him to be ready at 6:30 for dinner, I could come by. I wavered back and forth-- it was far to go and I had to meet my own partner around that time as well, but had a lot further to go than my Brit friend did. I don't do well with time pressure. He'd said Thursday or Friday were also options, but I thought, if I don't fool around with this guy now, I probably never will get another chance. Feeling irresponsible, I told him yes. He texted me the details and I ran to the train. I got to his room 35 minutes later, and he answered the door, looking very, very, very cute. He had on shorts that showed extremely beautiful, muscular legs, though the overall effect, with a plaid shirt and Jack Purcells and a stark part in his hair, was somewhat geeky. His bearded chin was ridiculously manly and handsome. He pretty much attacked me right at the door, diving in for some intense kissing, though he suffered from what I will now officially name "Muppetlike Kissing Syndrome," where you make open-close motions with your mouth and expose your tongue but do not involve your lips in any way. I kept trying to get our lips to lock in that beautiful sensuous way that makes my dick sproing, but he wasn't having it. Fuck it, I thought, he's just ridiculously handsome and I'm enjoying groping him. So I went with it. I felt up his round, ample ass and knew I had to get my face in there, at least, if he wasn't going to let me get my naked bone in there. So I asked him, "Let's go to the bed." He led me over, along a breathtaking full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson river, basically just across the West Side Highway from the hotel, with cruise ships and the Intrepid right outside. I took a minute to admire the view, then led him to the bed, bent him over the bed, and pulled down his shorts to reveal tight little red briefs. My favorite! I stuck my face in them and inhaled the scent of his sweat, rubbing my face against him in anticipation. Then I ate his ass like Chris Christie eats cheeseburgers. My dick was hard as a rock at this point, so I clambered up on the bed and stuck it in his face and he sucked me greedily. The sight of my choad buried in his handsome, manly, king-like face made my head spin. I held his bearded chin and fucked my dick into him slowly; it was so massive and firm and prickly in my hand that my nuts almost expelled all their contents right then and there. I pulled out and pushed him on his back and humped all over him, like I promised him I would. His legs were so meaty and thick and enveloped me and he held me to him so tight it was almost painful. I had to have more ass. I flipped him over, slid back down between them, and ate the fuck out of him. I held his dick in my hand as I ate. It was small and uncut but even harder than mine and had an awesome upward curve to it, which is something of a fetish of mine. I fondled his foreskin gently while I tongued him and sucked on his balls, when suddenly, his balls popped out of my mouth and into his body, and I felt his foreskin get very slimy; then I realized his taint was throbbing violently against my lips. He was cumming all over the bed! I recoiled, thinking maybe he could stop, as I'd only been there maybe 15 minutes. But he got up on his hands and knees and I saw gobs of cum all over the sheet. I've definitely never rimmed anyone to orgasm before. He turned on his back and gave me a sheepish smile. His leg was smeared with slime. "Let me lay on top of you again," I said, and I did, and my dick slid in some of his wetness, and we made out voraciously and I held him close. My dick felt like it was melting. I held his face in my hands, look deep into his brilliant green eyes, and said, "You're so fucking handsome... You're gonna make me cum too." He smiled and buried his face in my neck and bit me and I spurted freely between our bodies; when I finally pulled away from him his hair was glazed and matted with my goo. "Well, I don't suppose you'll have any trouble making your 6:30 now!" I chirped. "Let me be a gentleman and clean my mess off you." I went over to the cavernous limestone bathroom, wet a washcloth, and made him clean and tidy. He muttered something about being good to go again in 10 minutes and pulled me down for more making out. I was happy to, but then I suggested I should go, and he said it more clearly: "Give it 10 minutes, and we can go again." I'm an extremely slow reloader, and was feeling weirdly self-conscious next to this really good looking man. I stroked his body and pulled him close to me and we kept kissing but I knew it wasn't going to happen. So I pulled away, and began to dress, asking him about his plans. He followed me around the room as I collected my glasses and my shoes and things, still naked and so good-looking it was hard to look at him directly for very long. I was about to leave, back near the window and door where I'd started, but I kept being drawn to touch and kiss him. I held his dick in my hand and it got hard as ever right then and there. We made out and I figured, maybe I should just get him off one more time, he's clearly disappointed it ended so quickly. He slackened into me, and then began fishing around in my shorts for my own, shrivelled dick. We tugged on each other as we started at each other and made out. "*I'm* probably not going to cum," I said gently, "but YOU can!" He seemed to take this as a challenge, and got to his knees and sucked me. It felt good, but I was not responding. I let him enjoy my cummy wang for a while, staring out at the sparkling river and the boats, thinking, what a life! Then I pulled his face up from my groin, looked down into his face again, and repeated, "I really don't think I will cum again, big guy... but YOU can!" He began beating off, and I pulled on his nipples hard, which is what he seemed to require, and he looked at me with a helpless, adoring look that surprised me. My shorts were still around my ankles and my dick flopped near his face, and he looked at me with great desire and made himself shoot into his hand, impressively copiously, I must add. I kept shaking my head and telling him how handsome he was, and when I saw the load, I praised him, "Good boy!" And then, "Please tell me you didn't jizz on my shorts." He stood up and said, "They're just corduroy!" We chatted amiably again about the rest of his trip. I suggested he visit my section of Brooklyn but he seemed very skeptical and asked if he'd get killed out here. He was a very sweet guy; I wish I'd known when he came that he was a multiple cummer; I would have tried to make it last. But such is life. By the time I left we'd spent over 45 minutes together, and it was really nice. When I got home after my own dinner and an evening wandering around downtown Manhattan, I found he'd sent a really nice note to me on Manhunt, saying "Thanks for the express service... I don't know what you were doing to my ass but it sure felt good." Happy to oblige, handsome British dude! More...