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To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Back in November 2009, many of us wrote our anonymous confessions here -- almost 150 confessions in fact. The confessional is open again this weekend. Begin today. You have all weekend to sneak inside and tell the things you've done that ashamed you or those things of which you're secretly proud. Your confessions should be TRUE. Not a fantasy. Confession is good for the soul. Let's find out. This weekend, I want to gather as many "secrets" we can get. Take a moment. Whatever pops in your head first, post it. Whatever pops in your pants, either jerk it or wipe it up. Please make sure your comment is anonymous. To do so, when you click on the Comment link, use the drop-down after "Comment As:" and select the last option, "Anonymous" (as shown below). Please make sure your comment is anonymous. To do so, when you click on the Comment link, use the drop-down after "Comment As:" and select the last option, "Anonymous" (as shown below). The confessional is open. Enjoy. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... My 43rd birthday is coming soon. Very soon. If you're checking your calendars because you want to celebrate my birthday in some significant way, plan on being in the Atlanta area on Saturday, May 1. Chances are I might be seen at one of my favorite haunts (three guesses). I'd enjoy the opportunity to bump into anyone who enjoys (and I mean ENJOYS) my writing. If you hate me, do me a solid and show up Friday or Sunday. So other than the usual shit, someone needs to give me a GOOD idea of how to celebrate my birthday. And I mean a GOOD idea. Don't tell me to fuck an ass. That's something I already do. Duh. Give me a little credit. And I'm not flying halfway across America to fuck yours, especially at my expense (I can get plenty of prime ass here). So come on readers, help me out some! Give me some creative ideas on celebrating a non-significant birthday. Reminder... I STILL haven't had a porn star! For the star-cross lovers, I'm a Taurus. Scorpios, I'm sorry. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... The message arrived from a friend on Twitter: Sorry, but all this begging to read your blog and buy you gifts is annoying. Maybe [it's annoying] because I want to do the same thing but hold back out of pride. Apparently, I'm not holding back. I'd announced my birthday a couple of days ago looking for suggestions for something to do. In response, I got a couple of e-mails from folks wishing to send me materials gifts, so I'd posted this Tweet. So what I want for my birthday, all listed out so you can see (someone asked me to do this) Amazon Wish List http://amzn.com/w/7O8PS2941J38 Yea, I'm posting it again. Yes, you can still purchase me gifts. Am I begging? No. At the conclusion of this post, I'll even mention the place you can go and donate cash. No one gets onto the porn stars for their solicitations. While certainly they inspire more folks jerking off than I do, I think I get a few of my fair share of cum from an old fashioned wank. So if I happen to provide a little sexual fun, I think it's only fair a few folks (who can afford it) pay up. I'm not begging. I'm bartering. You get off. You give something back, but only if you can. Thanks for those who can. It's appreciated. I apologize if it seems like I'm begging. It's not intended that way. Now back to our regularly scheduled jerk off material! Enjoying this blog? Show you are. Comments, following me, friending me and/or a small donation helps assure I keep writing more. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Q. What's the one thing that you've thought about for a long time, but never tried, sexually? A. The answer to that particular question isn't quite as straightforward as it would seem. I've attempted, tried and indulged most every sexual act that exists in the known world. My desires emerge from a scenario rather than a particular act. I hate to get all up in your grill on the word you chose, but you wrote "thing," which had a significantly broad meaning, so I will take it as such. If you read my fuck fiction blog (at http://ibifuckfiction.blogspot.com) you are actually reading my fantasies. I am indulging those things in which I wish would occur and for which I consider in my thoughts. I enjoy fucking straight men. I personally have a category for fucking straight men (and I have fucked then before and imagine I will fuck them again). All men have a prostate and I imagine they find something stimulating that organ to be very enjoyable. I desperately would enjoy seeing how much I could entice a straight male stripper. How much money (or other stuff) would it take to get him to take a cock up his ass? What about a raw cock? How fucked up is his past that he turns to dancing naked and letting strange old men feel him up? What would people do for money? How far does it go? I believe it's actually limitless yet I still want to see how manipulative people would get for the cash. Some people would have no problem with certain things but would stop other places. I'm curious. People and their sexual nature away from the moral compasses of others' watchful eyes intrigue me. I've had opportunity to exploit and experience it. So this is where I find both enjoyment and curiosity. That mindfuck arena is where I like to play.</p>Ask anything. I'll answer. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... In a week, I turn 43. (If you're looking to read about sex, may I suggest you bail out now.) Now it's not like I've turned 40, 30 or some Godforsaken landmark birthday like (gasp) 50. Indeed, 43 seems like such an odd number. In fact, it is an odd number (well, it isn't even). It's even a prime number (and will be the last one until I turn 47, check out Wikipedia if you doubt me). How to celebrate or even acknowledge such a passing. It seems that my birthdays were destined for doom. In my college freshman year, I happened to be a part of a group forced to take classes together -- some sort of academic experiment in the mid-1980s. Since we knew each other so well, we launched a tradition of celebrating each birthday together. By the time my annual anniversary of passing through a vagina came around, my classmate decided to punch things up with a practical joke and pretend to forget my birthday and instead launch a "surprise" upon me. I guess it didn't exactly work out. Each of my friends thought someone else would spring the proverbial trap and assure my arrival at the pre-appointed time and place. Since everyone thought it someone else's duty, they indulged in the quickest method to inebriation as possible -- grain alcohol. This was backwoods Georgia. By the time my brilliant friends deduced that the birthday boy had not yet arrived, everyone was sufficiently drunk enough not to drive. And by this point in the evening, I found the joke not so funny. I sat in my dorm room, alone, with a melting ice cream cake from Dairy Queen sent from my parents. Since none of my friends were in their dorm rooms (and this time predated cell phones) I could find few people with whom to share the cake. In other words, someone neglected to invited me to my own surprise birthday party. Subsequent birthday parties have gone similarly. Once, my boyfriend at the time suggested we have a few friends over. I found that acceptable and, as per usual, I alone planned and prepared the menu with one exception. Why oh why do I date culinary challenged men? We all enjoyed a delicious meal together and were having a good time when my boyfriend stormed downstairs to the crowd, crossed his arms and looked at me. The room fell silent: "So," he said with utmost seriousness. "What did you make for dessert?" The tone in his voice was his scolding way of letting me know "I caught you in yet another of your fuck-ups." He relished each of these moments. As I look back now, I know we were done, but that's another story for another blog. I turned and looked at him matter-of-factually and said simply. "Nothing. I did not plan on preparing my own birthday cake." If the room were silent before, the air now was sucked out of it and now only a vacuum of nothingness remained as he stared in shock, knowing for once he did not stand on moral high ground. One of his friends helped him from the room to the car to the closest 24-hour grocery store to purchase something crappy that resembled a cake of some sort. As I recall, it was an ice cream cake. It seems that is the tradition on my worst of birthday memories. This one might as well be one as well. For the weekend following is Mother's Day -- the first one since my Mother's passing. And my Mother's passing plays a significant role in the less than stellar experience this birthday will bring. We all get to make conscious choices but timing isn't always our choice as to when it's best to strike. As was the case last year and has been this year. Last year, a conflict within my family put me on the outs, as I sought to protect the health of the more fragile. This year, the choice is less clear, but I've made a choice nonetheless that will likely leave me without a companion to indulge in some of my more hedonistic pleasures that does not include an ice cream cake. So I likely will spend Saturday evening alone or, if I do go out, without someone I can trust to have my back. I won't cut loose like I desire. And for all the birthday wishes of cash and gifts, I still have one that will likely go unfulfilled. Porn star, where for art thou, porn star... More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... BD-Minus 6 Days I've made known my wish since November to fuck a porn star, which made my birthday wish list. Again. I hate bucket lists. Call them "life lists" or whatever dressed up marketing twist on the term (and I should know, I'm in marketing), it's still a damn list of things to do before you die. That's fucking depressing. Fucking a porn star isn't on my bucket list. If I'm 72 and about to croak, taking a Viagra and breaking a hip (not necessarily in that order) while trying to fuck a 76-year-old Jeff Stryker (if you don't know who he is, children, he's a porn super star; so much so, he's even in Wikipedia). Wow. Jeff Styker wasn't the only porn star to make Wikipedia. In fact, they have a whole directory page of gay porn actors here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gay_pornstar. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. So what qualifies as the porn star, the one who takes my load? I've had men ask me this and, well, now I've been working on defining it myself. Not that any gay porn stars are knocking down my door. Fuck, I don't even get an e-mail. I've finally got a few XXX actors following me on Twitter (not too long ago, even that didn't happen). I can't get Steven Daigle @stevenexposed to acknowledge I exist (even before he went into porn), not that I stalk him or anything (Steven, I love you, you should have won Big Brother 10). Anyway, I think I'm on some sort of black list of "do not follow this barebacker or you'll get Twitter AIDS" or something. I want to assure everyone out there, I checked with Dr. Norton repeatedly and my Twitter account is not infected with anything harmful. This blog isn't transmitting anything bad. You don't even need antibiotics to read an e-mail from me. But I digress. Dawson would be a porn super star. Fucking him would be close to impossible, although it seems like he's fucked the entire planet by this point (and I think they film everyone who fucks him). Then there's guys at websites with names like "Chad" or "Dirk" or "Vlad" or some shit like that. To me, they're barely porn actors. Maybe they get a loyal following but they're barely in the biz. So let's set some criteria... 1. The male actor should have appeared in at least one full-length film released on a DVD in 2008, 2009 or 2010. 2. I must be attracted to him. 3. He must be aware I will write about the exploit but will not necessarily use his name or even a photograph of him. 4. It will be bareback (duh) but I could care less whether he does bareback porn (in fact, it would be kind of hot if he doesn't). 5. I would prefer he doesn't smoke, he's in good shape, he be "into" me and the experience, he's actually read the blog and more. You know, I'm starting to sound like a softy, but fuck, it's my birthday. How about a DATE with a porn star and then I get the fuck! And if he's really a talented porn star, maybe he'll get my ass. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... This little note came to me tonight via BarebackRT.com. This is an actual screenshot, unaltered: My answer, by the way, can be summed up in two words: Fuck No. Actually, I'd like to add a few more words: Now please get the fuck off BarebackRT.com. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Q. A bud says he 'fucked the cum outta' the bottom. Do bottoms really cum just from getting fucked? A. Oh, absolutely. If you have never fucked the cum out of a bottom, you're doing something wrong. I've both made a bottom cum without touching his cock and I've caused milky cum to flow from the cock without an orgasm. This is a simple physical reaction to the cock stimulating the prostate. Bottoms are simple creatures. If you would like to see this occur, may I suggest these steps. 1. Capture a bottom. 2. Prevent the bottom from experiencing sexual pleasure for a period of time. I recommend a period of at least two weeks. A month will make it even more intense. 3. Fuck the bottom but don't let him touch his cock and don't cum too fast. You want to fuck him where your cock stimulates his prostate. My cock points up at my belly button so it makes it simple if I face the bottom. 4. Watch the bottom cum. If the bottom doesn't cum, he did not experience a sufficient amount of time without sexual satisfaction. So you will have to start the experiment all over again. Please note that I do start this this capturing the bottom. I am serious. I know a lot of bottoms. I know a lot of nice bottoms and many I am friends with outside the bedroom. Bottoms are kind of like cats. They will show their ass to absolutely anyone. And given the chance, they will get fucked. Whether or not they cum, a fuck is satisfactory to them as a bottom and they won't think it counts. It does. Bottoms like to lie about this kind of shit. That's why you cannot trust them when it comes to fucking. No matter the mind-blowing orgasm you promise them, they're going to do whatever they can to get cock in their ass. They're wired that way. They can't help it. In a way, I'm glad for it because they're convenient when I'm horny. But sometimes you feel a little sorry for them, don't you? No. Actually I don't feel sorry for them at all. Anyway, I'm just telling you how you get a bottom to cum while you fuck them. Don't know why you care for that to happen. But that's how it happens. Good luck finding a bottom who you can lock up long enough for that to happen. Ask anything. I'll answer. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Q: Pick three people to have with you if you were locked in building over a weekend (Friday afternoon until Monday morning) and why. A. I've got to admit, this is among the more interesting questions I've received. The rules of this "locked in a building" scenario were non-specific, so I'm going to be liberal. Of course, in my head, I'm debating whether to make this an all out sex orgy for a weekend or go for something a little more interesting like an intellectual orgy. I considered inviting Jesus Christ. Here's the problem with a weekend. I won't know what the fuck he's saying cause he'll probably be talking in Aramaic. Same thing for most of the other major heads of religion. Of course I could go political on your ass and try some founding fathers. I'd love to get Abraham Lincoln or even Ronald Reagan to prove to these assholes in office today that what they're trying to do in the name of "founding fathers" is bullshit. But, oh yea, I'm locked in the fucking building so I won't have any proof. So I have some historical folks with whom I've always been fascinated like Queen Elizabeth I, Jack the Ripper and Benjamin Franklin. Chances are, though, Jack would kill us all and putting such a group together would be less than compatible. So guess what? That just puts me back at an orgy. A big old sexual orgy. And I hope to gawd there's some food and beverage in the building somewhere. Now which three people should I choose? Do I go with friends like @meetthebreeder or @Sicilian40, both ot whom I imagine would be great conversationalists and an even better fucks but I've never actually met? But they're also both tops. Do I go with three bottoms so I have three bottoms to fuck at will and sample one by one from among the following: @nikeathlete, @ohboy88, @Barebacksailor, @HungryBottom, @TheRealJayFox, @kevintasitci, @londonboifb, @JDan720, @fratboycunt, @JulianDPaul, @JustinPacleb, @bikeguy13 or @BubbleJock? They're just on the top of my list of hundreds I'd like to fuck. There's also the XXX stars I want to fuck. So let's be honest. I'd make it a lottery and pull three names out of a hat. What I did was take the names from my lists on Twitter for "Guys I Want to Fuck," "Friends," "Bareback," "Kinda Hot," and "XXX Stars." Some folks appear on these lists multiple times (so their chances were slightly better). I created a routine to randomly pick three lines. The losers of the lottery were as follows: - @codykyler - @daveyrobson - @kevintasitci Just out of curiosity, I ran the routine again to see who lost the second time and this came up: - @jtbritto - @meetthebreeder - @JustinPacleb Interesting, huh? Ask anything. I'll answer. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Okay, so I'm sure folks who live here are tired of hearing the stories of the aliens who live 'neath the airport, but I just find it fascinating that anyone would consider such a theory possible. Nonetheless, Google it if you don't believe me ("Aliens underground Denver International" works just fine). So my travels brought me to the Mile-High City and I remain hopeful, with a third of my time here over and done, that within the next few hours, someone will turn up at my hotel to receive a little of my own out-of-state DNA. I've got a fresh bottle of poppers and a half-hard cock that's craving some Rocky Mountain ass. Wish me luck. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... To arrange a fuck takes effort. I'm not much into that effort today. I'm frankly not much into anything today. I stare out into a gray cloudy sky that's spitting a little rain. It's more than halfway through my birthday and mostly I've just recouped from travel and wrapped up the last two work days. With more travel in the weeks ahead, my weekends are mostly work catch-up days. If you're wondering whether I fucked over my travel in Denver, the answer is a resounding no, but it's not for lack of trying. I did meet a reader (a fellow top) and we had drinks and a great chat. However, due to the fact we were within a security perimeter, it made access to my hotel close to impossible. I actually attempted to get us both a bottom but gave up. So maybe I'll get Rocky Mountain ass next time I'm there. On to today. I'm 43. I'm not depressed. I'm not enthused. I've found I'm just somewhere in between. I'd like to fuck an ass. I just don't want to beg the Craigslist or BarebackRT or A4A gods for that chance. I also don't want to pay four weeks salary for that opportunity. So it sit indifferent at an iPad, wondering if the silver lining ever appears of if a hot ass (semi-hot would even be acceptable) would land in my lap tonight. I took this photo in Arizona. Something remotely sexual about it. I was thinking: "Between a rock and a hard place." Guess what's there. A cactus. And how savory was all those pricks be? * * * P.S. A special thank you to several of my friends out there who worked really hard to provide me with gifts and reminders of my birthday. I've received many wishes in my inbox, on Twitter, on Facebook, in PayPal and at my doorstep all week. Thank you all. I appreciate every wish, no matter in what form they come, whether it's a photo of a cum shot, a tweet or a new pair of Diesel underwear. There is a couple of men especially I want to thank. To the fellow European geek, I've really appreciated the adornment provided to my wardrobe. And, to my California friend, how can I express my gratitude? My ears, my lap and so much more benefit from your kindness. I will continue to write and write more dedicated to you. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... So here's 43 things that have nothing to do with anything. Random thoughts, off the top of my head. Some are explicit. Some are wishes. Some have no fucking reason to exist. 1. I want to fuck a porn star. I've defined a porn star. I've chatted with a lot of people about favorite porn stars and more. The most interesting aspect is no fucking porn stars even bat an eyelash -- virtual or otherwise -- at me. I did have a brief discussion with a web-only actor who explained that even the hint of association with a barebacker just labels you and hurts your chances within the condom world (even though most bareback in the private world). 2. I want to write, cast and direct a porn "adventure." While making this list, might as well get the porn stuff out of the way. Calling it a porn film isn't quite correct and expounding on the idea might give someone too much information to steal it away. Ideas, you see, can't be copyrighted or patented. A space exists where porn can explore. A market exists between amateur and web and DVD and everywhere else. 3. Porn, sex and fantasy doesn't have to be stupid or lack a plot. My fantasy fuck fiction proves that. Believe me, there's sex. Readers needed to get through a few chapters before finding a single fuck. Urged on to write more, I do. Not everyone loves it and some even criticize it, but somehow, the words continue to flow. 4. Asians are hot. Early, as you jerk off to videos or photos, this ideal of the perfect man develops and you go for smooth, white, tan, muscular, lactose-intolerant, twinks, 23 to 24½ years old with dirty blond hair and cut cocks no more than 7¾ inches long. But then one drunken horny night, you venture forth and try a Latino, African American or Asian on for size. I think I've tried every nationality and, I must say, each has an open invitation. As the exploration has continued and I've met more (and fucked more), I've found Asians to be among the most enjoyable experiences. More to come on this one, I hope. 5. I don't know why incest turns me on. A forbidden taboo, perhaps, but part hopes to experience it as the third in a three way. Two brothers, a father-son, even the far-fetched cousins or uncle-nephew works. Documented proof would be needed, just to satisfy the doubting Thomas in me. Sometimes these porns claiming brothers, no matter the promises don't convince me. Even the twins and triples are worry-some since I know how well Photoshop can work. Still, I get a lot of pleasure from watching. I just want to exist between two (or more) someday. 6. What's love got to do with it? I've decided absolutely nothing. 7. Glory holes aren't always anonymous. I will not stick my cock into any glory hole. I need to see who is on the other side before pushing my cock through. No matter if an ass is backed up to the hole, I need to get a glimpse of the man on the other side. So I may not know his name, but it's not entirely anonymous if I've seen his face, is it. Which leads us to the next one... 8. I am picky. Sometimes it reads like I'll fuck it if it's got a pre-lubed ass. I've actually had people just say send directions and they'll come running. I have got to have a photo and some basic stats before I'll invite anyone to my hotel room. Sorry gents. I really do need something more than that. I know, your mama think's you're one hot potato, but I sure as hell might be disappointed. 9. I believe every massage should end with a happy ending. Sorry, I don't care if you're a straight massage therapist, but your hand better end up on my cock with a whacka-whacka at the end of my hour or 90 minutes. It's a dirty little secret of a massage therapist, but I really think most of them do it but just don't like to admit it. 10. The only thing headless should should be horsemen. At Halloween. Seriously, I see the hot-as-shit photos of these guys all over the place but it stops at the neck. 11. Stop lurking, start commenting. I know a lot of people read this blog and don't say a goddamn word. At some point, my friends, stop it and start writing! I want to hear from you! 12. Why do bottoms expect the top to make all the decisions? Just because I want to stick a cock in an ass doesn't mean I always want to drive to the market or want to choose what's for dinner. 13. Men break down into four categories: gay, six-pack gay, straight-bottoms and straight. Now subcategories exist, but I do believe those are the major categories of men. I do not count "situationally gay" men (as in, men in prison). I don't care what you claim to be or how you live your life or what your lifestyle claims or whatever your religious beliefs might put you. And the Kinsey Report can attempt its gray area numbers all it wants (I honestly respect that report). Six-pack gays are men who claim to be straight but with a little alcohol (or other substance) and persuasion, they suck cock, get fucked or otherwise have sex with men. Call them bi or they have some sort of selective memory about their sexual encounters, they're leaning heavily on the gay side of the fence. Now straight bottoms are men who likely are straight but, for whatever reason, like the butt-sex and a warm cock is much preferred over a cold strap-on any day. 14. Is is really possible for a man who's 35 years old or younger to date a man who's 40 years or older without the older man being a sugar daddy? Just a question. If you're less than 35 years old, legitimately interested, hit me up with an answer. 15. Do we ever really want Tom Cruise to come out of the closet? No. No we don't. Please stay in. Thank you. 16. If Lady Gaga is this generation's Madonna, Adam Lambert is this generation's Liberace. Snap. 17. Funny thing, I don't usually get to fuck on my birthday. Even when I was in a relationship, it never seemed to work out. Or we went out and I got to drink so much and I came home fucked up enough that I passed out. 18. Why won't bareback hook-up sites let me promote my blog? Maybe I could promote their hook-up sites? Are you listening BarebackRT.com? A little quid-pro-quo? Might even help me with my out-of-town hook-ups! Or maybe another site might take me on... anyone listening? 19. I'm bi. Bi-platform that is. I love Macs but I can't completely convert over, as much as Mac-lovers want. I must keep one foot firmly planted in the Windows world. So, please allow me just a little Windows in my life. 20. My nipples do nothing for me, but my balls are a different story. I know men whose nipples are hardwired to their cock (or their brain, since that's truly the biggest sex organ). But any talented bottom can find multiple spots on and around my balls that send shivers down me timbers in the most amazing ways. 21. It's 420 somewhere, but believe it or not, it's never been 420 for me. I've never smoked anything. Not pot or anything. And I'm very anti-smoking but very non-judgmental, which seems sort of like an oxymoron. But the truth is it's smoking for 40-plus years that shortened my Mother's life and therefore why I cannot stand the smell, even for a short duration fuck. Sorry smokers. 22. If you read this, include a 22 at the conclusion of your comments even if you comment nothing. Or are you a scanner like me and miss the details of what people are really writing? 23. The Wish List remains open. Just because my birthday has past doesn't mean gift giving season is over. You can see the most recent Amazon Wish List at http://amzn.com/w/7O8PS2941J38. 24. I cried on my birthday. Now explaining this one away might be tough. It came after I wrote my birthday entry, which might make my gray-day explanation seem a little more gray than I thought. Indeed. As I sat and thought about it, I realized one thing. As many people are there are who care about me in my life, my mother was the last one who truly cared for me. That little distinction disturbed me, rattling me to the core, which allowed a moment of grief to pour out. That and every where I went, every single retail outlet encouraged me to purchase my Mother something to commemorate her day. The last thing I need to purchase for my mother is the date of her death for her marker. 25. Just because you have muscles doesn't make you God's gift to humanity or gaymanity so get a clue. Still, I'd fuck the attitude out of you. 26. Do I want a boyfriend? Maybe. Would I stop fucking around if I had a boyfriend? No. Would I expect him to stop fucking around? Uh, no. In fact, I'd hope he'd show up with a loaded ass, thankyouverymuch. 27. I'd like to sponsor a giant Twitter/Blogger Meet-Up in Fall 2010. Anyone interested? I'll only do it if 27 people respond to this posting in the comments section. Other bloggers willing to participate should also respond and encourage. We would need a sponsor to help make it happen, too. And don't forget to notice the appropriate response to 22. 28. Yes, I really love Diet Coke that much. When I met someone this past trip to Denver, that was one of his curiosities. Thought I'd clear that up. 29. Still hoping to mentor a young top. Only one young man seemed semi-serious about pursuing this option and I'm patiently awaiting to see if he continues that effort (will he get all the way to 29 to see this?). I wonder if anyone would seriously want to make that effort and continue to ask me questions, seek my advice and ask me more? 30. If you don't send gift or donations, I really enjoy e-mails, especially with photo attachments. Seriously. Some of the best things I receive are note with hot photos and wishes. Personal notes that don't include anything other than, "wish you were here." My Montana buddy gets a special shout out for just that. 31. I'm traveling so much this year, I want to earn Delta Medallion status. I've never flown first class. I hope to some day. Maybe I will if I can ever get to Medallion status. I need to fly 10 more round-trip flights this year to get silver status, so I just might get it. I hope so. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get an upgrade someday. I tried to get one to Denver, but a little screw-up cost me a chance to get it. 32. I live seven miles from the house I grew up in. It's not really by choice, but it happened. I lived away from Georgia for 18 years before returning here about seven years ago, but now I'm back. Who knows, now that both my parents are gone, how much longer I will be here. 33. If you're stupid, please stop reading here and kill yourself. Gun. Bullet. Aim. Trigger. At head. Shit, you missed again. Please reload. Not to go off on a rant here (but I will) if I get another asshole who asks me for a fucking photograph (and doesn't bother to look at the "about me" picture with the "iBi" right next to my face) I'm going to personally purchase the gun, load it and send it to him with instructions on how to blow his pretty little head off. Dumb ass bottoms. Smart bottoms, it's the dumb ones that give you a bad name. 34. Thunderstorm enthrall me. Something about the power of the wind, rain and static in the air make them enjoyable. So I listen, watch and enjoy them. Spring is upon us and I enjoy them. Of course, the tornado side effect is not something that I'd enjoy experiencing. Stay just this side of dangerous. My geekiness extends to watching the weather radar and seeing the track of the storms. 35. Why is 35 considered the end of gay life as we know it? Even those my age look for those 35 or younger. What's the deal? 36. Is it bad to admit you're in therapy? For a while, Hollywood seemed to relish the status symbol of having a shrink. As I went through the painful experience of my Mother's death (and some profound choices made to help her along that path), I knew seeking someone to vent my frustrations and emotional issues would be helpful to me later. So I have. It's not a sign of weakness but one of wellness, in my opinion. But for some reason, some folks treat it as if I've admitted to being fitted for a straight jacket. I'm not crazy, although some in my life might beg to differ but not for reasons that have anything to do with this blog. Shortly after Mother's passing, I recognized the stress in my life needed an outlet that I would not be able to fix on my own through any ordinary coping mechanism. So I chose to spend a little time exploring myself. 37. I'm thinking of dumping TiVo and cable and switching over to DirecTV. I think it will be cheaper, but I can't find anyone offering BBC America in high-definition yet and I really want to see Doctor Who in HD. I'm truly embracing my geekiness. 38. Mountains over the beach. Believe me, I won't turn down a trip to either but a cottage in the mountains seem so much more relaxing. Well, fuck, I'll take a bungalow at the beach too. I'm a pale white boy and I don't tan, so don't expect me out at the pool all day with tan lines to prove later. And mountain rainbow trout over a nice conch fritter is fine with me anytime. Among the sexiest experiences I think I've ever had was sitting in the hot tub in the hills, the snow sizzling around us and our hair freezing into odd shapes. But the cabin fires were warm and we kept each other warm that evening in interesting ways. The beach had less clothing and, well, I did have a five-way on a B&B roof in Key West. Take me anywhere a bunch of gay men gather! 39. Are poppers really all that cool? Fuck yes. 40. I love roller coasters and amusement parks. Not crap stuff either; I'm an aficionado and can speak to parks and coasters as such. That said, I suffer from acrophobia with the exception of riding a coaster. 41. Speaking of dichotomies, I love sushi, but hate wasabi. Don't ever take me to a crappy, all-you-can-eat, dollar dinner near a college. Take me to a nice, fresh sushi restaurant with delicious, amazing, overwhelming sushi. 42. Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. But it's a shitty year to live, if you ask me. 43. Admit the truth. You want me to breed a load into you, even if you're slightly repulsed by the idea. You want it. That's why you read to 43. That, or you skipped to the last one (shame on you if that's what you did). More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... So here's hoping the bottoms are bigger in Texas. I don't mean literally. I mean figuratively. I don't want a 400-pound, big-ass bottom. I want a beg-to-be-fucked, beg-for-my-cum bottom. That would be bonus. With one night only, I don't know how much luck I'll have, but I'll try to ride me a real cowboy. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Suffer not fools. Unfortunately, the Internet is filled with them. Fools, flakes, assholes and generally a lot of fucking assholes. And not the kind of assholes I want to fuck. My travels will tend to be short hops all over the country -- interestingly enough, "D" cities like Des Moines, Dallas and Denver. When posting ads on Craigslist, the text rings true: "ONE NIGHT AND ONE NIGHT ONLY." Other specifics are included, such as: "Non-smokers only." While filtering through bots, photo collectors and the usual flakes, narrowing down to a few potentials can be easy. I decided on one. After a little back and forth, the address and name of the hotel is sent along with my cell phone number. Fifteen minutes pass, then this e-mail arrives: "Ohh cool I would love to go there and take care of you now but I don't have gas and I get pay tomorrow!" I responded: "Ummm.... then why the fuck did you respond?" A few minutes later, this e-mail arrived: "Coz I just got in my car and realized are you free tomorrow in the morning?" I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. The morning won't make a difference in your bank account, asshole. "No. Read the ad again. Tonight and tonight only." In the end, the jerk wad did come over. He started with the calling me "sir" and shit. You can see the photo of him above, which probably appears about six or seven years and 20 pounds ago. He's much beefier, which didn't bother me at all. I like beefy. So he arrives and, well, he's a little more refried beans than I'd prefer. So much for out of gas. Sketchy, making me wonder whether he'd snorted a little something before visiting. At around 5-foot-5, he's relatively cleaned up and ready to be slutty, which makes it easy to get him to start sucking. His suck skills, like more, proves to be unremarkable. His sketch can't keep him in one position long enough, so he stands up. Interestingly, his whole front side is shaved. Balls, pubes, pits, nips, etc. Good job without being prickly pear. He leaves his knee-high, Lycra socks on. I'm guessing a fetish. After snorting poppers and sucking a little more, he hops onto the bed and pushes his ass into the air. From a smooth front, we have a not so smooth back with a hairy crack and hair above the crack in a massive pube-like area. I eat a little ass. Just enough to open him up and shove my cock in. His hole is tight but with a pop, opens up and accepts my hard seven inches. His asshole is like others -- tight at the opening, but inside, it's a chasm, open and wide. But the tightness of his ring makes it worthwhile. He's a little squirmy. And his ass a little too bony. So I turn him over and begin fucking him with his legs in the air. This way, my pelvis is pummeling him thighs. He won't stop squirming. Fuck, I hate crystal. No wonder you don't have gas for your car, asshole. It's cause you smoked it all up. Smoking. That's the other thing he lied about. Now that I'm facing him, his dragon's breath and exhale from lungs steeped in menthols now reach my nose. I lean away and grab his sock-covered ankles. Weird. For once, I've made a bad choice. I should have left the cock tease at home. I reach for the poppers, snort and pop off in his ass without even letting him know I'm cumming. I pull out. "Are you going to cum, Sir?" "I already did." "But what about me, papi?" "You can go get some gas." I threw him a five dollar bill. He left. I know he didn't buy gas. Everything is bigger in Texas. Even the liars. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Q. You've said you travel a bit. Do you have a travel experience you'd characterize as your best? What made it better than your other travel experiences? From @NickVGreen Nick, Nick, Nick. Such open-ended questions! It makes it so hard to answer. But I'll do my best with my top three experiences: Disney World Resort Every time I go there, I never want to leave. Disney's expertise is entertaining every guest for every moment, from whenever they step on property until they leave. With many vacations, as it comes to a close, you get a little depressed and the thought of returning to the "real world" invades your thoughts on the last 48 hours. Disney's invisible barrier blocks the "real world" from invading your thoughts until you leave the property. Unfortunately, an excess build-up does make the sudden onslaught of "real world" pressure an incredible depression. I recommend Xanax and First Class for the plane ride home, neither of which I had available either time I experienced it. (I've also done Disneyland Resort, which is enjoyable and should be visited but is not anywhere close to the quality largely due to California Adventure, which is being re-imagined since it the park was originally built without any Disney magic.) London I've only visited the United Kingdom's majestic metropolis once. Upon arrival, I felt at home. The whole Shirley Maclaine belief in previous lives is a bunch of bullshit if you'd ever asked me before I visited London and its twisty streets and alleyways. But London seems so damned familiar to me. I got there and just had a sense of direction from the moment I left Heathrow. No matter where I stood with skyscrapers around me, I could point toward Big Ben and the Thames, find the nearest Tube station and get us safely to the hotel. Tie: Glacier Bay, Alaska, and Sedona, Arizona. To describe these two locations -- one a barren desert, one a frozen wasteland -- seems almost impossible to compare how I could express the beauty of these two places and the beauty of the vistas offered. Photography, video, television and nothing other than you ass in the actual location can capture what these places look like. Here is my description of both, as best as words might work: "It is as if God bent down and kissed the Earth." 'nuff said. Ask anything. I'll answer. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Hey Mark, First I'll start by saying I love your blog. You're much more "free" about your sexuality than I am - and I enjoy reading everything your write. It satisfies my inner "voyeur" and exhibitionist I suppose. I've got a question, my fiance and I have been together for about 3 years now. And we bareback often but I usually have to start by wearing a condom because he's still too tight. I'm nothing special (see pic) my cock is average length, and really I'm just curious if you've ever had someone too tight to bareback. And if there's anything we could do (other than drown the experience in lube). I know you're not a sex therapist - so I apologize for the personal question. We're just curious. Happy writing, B * * * Dear B, First off, what do you do for prep with your bottom friend. Do you eat him out? Second, I don't have a clear image of your cock but even with that I can't tell how hard you are. I want to hear more about what a standard fuck session is like with you two. Mark * * * Mark, I've attached some more pictures of myself, and T. I've always been a little self-concious about it, I don't think I'm all that large, but after fooling around with a few guys I don't think I'm the smallest thing ever. I'm a healthy 6 inches fully hard. As far as a fuck session between us goes, I'm really into kissing, so normally we start making out with our clothes on until I get really hard. Then we share blow jobs - I usually will wet my finger with my saliva and rub his anus while I suck on his head, lick his shaft, and cup his balls. I do love eating him out, I like to run my tongue back and forth from his cock to his ass and I try to loosen him up that way. A lot of times I'll finger him while I suck his cock, and rub his cock while I rim him. We've tried a few positions and the ones that work best are me kneeling behind him, and him on all fours, or me on top of him (him facing me) and his legs against my shoulders. When he's loose enough for me to enter it usually doesn't take long until pleasure becomes painful for him. We use pjur and astro glide for lube. And I'm scared of poppers, because I don't want to accidentally harm him. I do love him, and as much as I'd like to ram his ass hard and free - I don't want to be the cause of any long term damage. Let me know if this gives you enough information about a typical fuck. We live in Atlanta. Thanks! B * * * My Final Answer Thank you for writing. I appreciate the photos and the details. I'm going to answer your question and provide you with the answer based on the evidence presented before me. Just so all my readers know, I asked these two to let me into their bedroom to observe. Being that they're probably intelligent, they declined. I admire that. But I did have an academic curiosity I wanted to satisfy and I couldn't because I couldn't see the two interact and my photographic evidence (along with the communication) will point me in a direction they might not like to hear. So first to the photographs provided (blurred face as requested). [/url] A few others arrived, none significantly different than the ones above. In my opinion, the fact the bottom's photographs never contained a photo of his ass seemed telling. Now, I've fucked many big-cocked bottoms, but bottoms do tend to be rather proud of their ass skills (as well as the rest of their bodies). In this case, the top shares his whole body and not the bottom. The bottom just provides his cock pics. I think we've got a role reversal issue and the bottom is subconsciously squeezing you out, B. I know you love him, but bottoms need to be shown their place. And your attitude reads like a bottom too. I don't want to hurt him, I love him, blah, blah, blah. Look, the body heals. Your cock isn't so big we're talking like you're going to tear a hole in the space-time continuum. Fuck his ass. Fuck it like you mean it. Fuck it like you want it. Just fucking breed him. If he's truly a bottom, he will appreciate you for butching up and breeding him like the top you should be. If he whines about it, slap the bitch. If he cuts you off, he's a top. And I suspect, he's really a top. You both might be. But in the end, you're both in the wrong place. This relationship is doomed to fail -- at least sexually. Someone needs to man up and get it going. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... We all bleed. And it's all pink on the inside. That explanation came from an asshole I knew at university. His misogynistic ways stuck with me somehow -- surprise, surprise. Still an impressionable young gay man, a small group of elite intellectuals sat in a circle discussing something about authority. Liberal arts education at its best. My friend, who explored women with the subtlety of a great white shark on a feeding frenzy, spoke of how women -- no matter their race, religion, size or texture, should put out at the end of a date. The females in the class expressed horror, although by that point, most had taken a ride on his cock and experienced his tongue on their clits. We'd discussed this is detail. We both had mutual interests. His interest -- curiosity about fucking ass, even men, since he figured it would increase his chances of getting some at the end of the evening. Mine was the mind of a straight man. So we'd dined together and discussed our respective sex lives. As he spoke of women putting out and the incredulous women screamed in dismay, the room came to a silence that happened naturally. One of those odd moments that just seems to happen. "I really don't know why you expect women to put out all the time," I told him, in front of everyone. "You've been to my apartment. I've fixed you dinner. You've never put out for me." There's this moment sometimes when "silent" isn't a sufficient enough word. It's as if the entire world has had the volume turned down and everyone has gone deaf. It only lasts for an instance, but in that moment, there's an eternity. And if a pin dropped somewhere across the planet, it would sound as if a thousand cymbals crashed to the floor simultaneously. Then the room erupted and my friend dropped his jaw like he had dick-suckers cramp. Girls from my class piled on me in appreciation for delivering the blow that shut him up. But the truth of the matter in all that fun and discussion of sex and food, misogyny and dating, I was alone. For all the fun, support and wit, the professor could see what was going on. That evening, as we each headed off to our dorms and apartments or to whatever drinking destinations, the hairy, disheveled poly sci professor took me aside and imparted some wisdom that here, years later, I don't recall a fucking word. And so, on a Saturday evening, more than two decades later, four months to the day after I watched my Mother die, I'm drowning my sorrows in Diet Coke. I'm wishing it was something stronger. It's been a shitty week and it does no good to explain in detail here. I started this blog to explore my sex life. I didn't intend on making friends. I didn't have any intentions. I just wanted to explore. Then, when my Mom got sick, I crossed into a place I didn't know how to escape. How do I explain that I didn't feel like fucking. That my cock could just fall off and I didn't care. I'd have given up fucking forever to see my Mother get well. That didn't happen, of course. And I returned to fucking. But something hasn't been the same for me. I debated whether to tell you all. And for a while, I didn't. Can you say that pain inspires you? Maybe you could give up your grieving easily. But now I feel utterly alone. Some of you probably couldn't give a shit. I don't blame you. I don't much give one either right now. Not that I'm going to off myself or something stupid like that. So the shitty week actually isn't inspired by my Mother, my birthday or anything else. It comes from a crappy boss. I've worked for this person for years and to get a single pat on the back is close to impossible. A promotion has been dangled out in front of me but in order to get it, yours truly needs to become submissive. Being that I'm a Dominate personality, I'm not one to back down. I'm in Georgia and let's face it, being out, being gay and being visible has its detractions. In a professional environment, the prejudice can be overwhelming. One person at my current company -- a person of significant stature and in a position of power -- told me because I was gay, he would do whatever he could to assure I was not successful and would fail at every task I attempted. I informed my boss of this. I was told this was a "personality deficiency" that I would need to overcome. So I am deciding if I can be a cum-collecting pussy. If I can suck it up, literally, in order to get a promotion. Is it within my personality to be submissive and bow to the Master. What, again, I've not told everyone is just how many people in my life rely on my income. I am the majority breadwinner for a lot more people than most would realize. So flipping off my boss and walking away seems like a good idea if you're on your own for your own principals. But when others rely on you, you can't do it so flippantly. So what am I to do. To be honest, I have gone against my nature by writing this. I shut down Thursday night and barely did anything. But I decided tonight to write this. To tell the world. I'll get some shitty responses (which I probably will reject). I am considering a significant life change. Not just with my job. Now that Mom and Dad are gone, I have more choices. People may rely on me, but I don't have to be here in Georgia to assure they get the help they need. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I just felt the blog needed a facelift, so to speak. Not all my doing but appropriately edited to my liking. Let me know what you think. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... Part of me doubts this might work out but I decided to float this little trial balloon and see where we end up. The idea is simple. I'm going to take a week off and travel from place to place around this nation (hell, might even make it international, if someone is so inspiring). Yes, you can influence whether I visit your town or a town of your choosing. It's very simple. I don't think of this as a contest. However, I am serious. If enough people show interest, then I will make this journey. Conditions do apply, as outlined here. 1. I will be in charge of the air journey tickets. Contributions to offset the cost of the tickets are welcome in both Air Miles (Delta only) or cash (Pal Pay donation) assist in assuring I'll visit your location. But if I am coming to visit you, you will know. 2. I will not have any other transportation other than relying on the kindness of you, my friends at my destinations. You can choose whatever form of transportation to help get me to my needed locations. 3. Likewise, I do not have a place to stay. While I am willing to stay at apartments or homes, I prefer these not be with multiple roommates. You might consider hotels in case socially something awkward develops. I am a non-smoker and will not stay an a home of a smoker. 4. Since you will host my visit, I would like the host to consider making my time with him interesting. This is well beyond sex. 5. I am hopeful that my host will take into every comfort possible and assuring I enjoy myself. 6. Because there may be more than one person in the same city who may want to spend time with me, I may choose to spend multiple days in that city. 7. Sponsoring my travel is the quickest way to assure that I will spend time at your location. Providing details of our time together -- where we will eat, what we will do -- also helps. 8. Approximately 10 days will be set aside for this little adventure, from one Thursday through a weekend and then a full week into another weekend. Exact dates will be announced soon. 9. I need a sense in the next few days who might apply and which cities might be included. Please e-mail me your name, photos, your sponsorship and a summary of your basic plans. We'll refine all this later. 10. And if you're rather meet at a vacation destination, that's perfectly fine with me. Please e-mail me soon. Time's a wastin'. More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... I do a lot of travelling. It just seems I'm always travelling to the wrong cities. I get these amorphous offers. If you ever make it to the West Coast... Look me up if you're ever in Seattle... I'd love to take you out to a beer if you're in New York... Gentlemen, here's the chance. As I reflected on the previous post, "Vacation Travel to Breed," I might have chosen a better headline. It did convey a certain (shall we say) sexual implication, as did my conditions of travel. Remind me never to write blog entries on Ambien. I think some connotations were missing. My decision to travel isn't one to get ass. Getting ass isn't an issue. Part of me wants to meet some of you. As you all know, pouring out cum, testosterone and a little bit of blood and soul into this blog allowed some of you to respond in kind, both as comments and in private e-mails. Rather than thinking of this as some sort of long sexual experience, how about a date, a conversation, a meeting. Something of substance. How many of you can back up those offers with true gestures? How many of you mean what you say? How many of you actually want to meet and talk about something other than breeding ass? Oh, I'll breed your ass. Don't worry about that. But can you carry on a conversation too? Do you even want to do so? More...

To see iBLASTinside's original blog post, click here... The tentative approach seems a little like kids at the beach poking at a dead jellyfish. Or that's the image I'm seeing with some anonymous postings and a couple of e-mails arriving. Am I getting a little soft? Could it be that iBLASTinside might be willing to bend to your own uncompromising will of what your own artificial construct of an imaginary relationship could become? A little game is playing out. Guess what guys, I'm just going bareback. I think we all like to live with a layer of protection around us. My old high school counselor used to call it a "defense mechanism." For most of us, we don't actually say what we mean or mean what we say. We hold back. We hide behind a thin layer of society's ideals of how life should be. Life, of recent, has stripped me of my societal condom. My emotions are raw. I am bare, open for people to see. On Mother's Day, I actually stayed away from people because I knew the wounds of my Mother's recent passing just wouldn't allow me to keep the sheen of decorum over my face. I couldn't politely smile at other Mothers and wish them a good day when I knew I'd visited my own Mother preserved underground in an aluminum vault with too many weeds growing over her. While I welcome your posts from backwoods Alabama, don't expect me to come begging you for an invitation. I am real. My e-mail is out there for you to access so if you're going to hide behind the "Anonymous" moniker, just don't bother. I'm not looking for a boyfriend or a partner. I'm just looking around. Whatever I find, I might keep. If it's crap, I'll use it and kick it out. I don't believe in monogamy so if you have delusions you can "tame" me, realize I'm already domesticated and not looking to be put back into a cage. It's easy not to have sex with other men and be emotionally unfaithful; that's worse than fucking a hundred men. When can the fags realize that? I'm looking for emotional monogamy. If you can't handle brutal honesty or intensity -- life without condoms, both emotionally and physically -- then don't try to e-mail me, call me or text me. No excuses. Simply say what you mean. If you want to meet, then say you want to meet. I don't want excuses about problems of vacation time or phone texting not working or you don't have any pics (calling bullshit on that) or you're afraid my second cousin might know your aunt of your sister-in-law's veterinarian. If you're looking for some butch, physically violent, dominate daddy, please do me the kindness of fucking off. Someone once told me I have a "quiet dominance." It's something you sense rather than being forced upon you. And I'm not so bad at what I do (ask Singapore). I'm a geekish, normal guy outside the bedroom (ask the many people who've met and spoke to me who can probably experienced boring old me). You get me? It's me. Raw. More...

Click here to see Chicago Bottom's original blog post... Big Black Dick and HOT FACE! I can't tell you the last time I stared into the eyes of such a hot guy. He wasn't supposed to be here till midnight. He said he sent me an email, but I didn't get it. He said he couldn't wait to breed me. He showed up, fed me his 9 inch cock and kept asking me, "so you want to make some beautiful black babies?" "Fuck yeah!" He was on a lunch break. He works the late night shift, so 9:30 was lunch for him. It was the best lunch I ever ate. I'm sitting here with my finger up my ass slurping his cum. It tastes as good as he looked. Now, the problem. Guy number 1 emailed me saying he was on his way soom. The BBC that just breeded me said he was cuming back for more of my mangina. No. 1 wrote "as long as I'm the only one, I'm going to breed you good". I can't wait to see what happens. Either he's going to know I have a huge load in my ass, or No. 2 and No. 1 are going to show up at the same time. SHIT. I just want BOTH the loads again and again... I think I'll take my chances and lets see what happens. Stay tuned! I'll be back! could I get two cocks? or will I ruin my chances? Fuck I'm so horny... More...

To see SFVersCumBoy's original blog post click here Today was one of those phenomenally lucky days for cock sucking. I took a chance and walked to my favorite video booths. There were only a few guys down there but I did see one extremely hot tall fellow. Close to 6' 4", lanky wearing jeans and sporting some hot glasses...I do have a soft spot for tall men that wear glasses. We walked past each other once and I was hoping he would be interested. I found one of the glory holes set open and went in. Right away I heard the door to my neighbor open and it was the tall sexy man himself. We both put our money in and he pulled out his cock. Sitting down I could see what appeared to be a hand full. I had my cock out and was hoping he wanted to get sucked. I was looking through and at first he was not doing anything. Sometimes guys will go in and only want to watch. Finally he stood up and walked over the hole. Suddenly the hole was filled with about 8 inches of soft cock that was growing rapidly. I wasted no time in getting my mouth on it and found out just how much it did grow. Mushroomed head, slight curve down and smooth 'n straight as could be - slid down to the back of my throat and there it had to pause. Knowing that this cock was going to be rock hard and huge for the entire time, I took a breath (as well as I could with my mouth stuffed full) and went into deep throat mode. While the movie was playing all I do was work my mouth around that head and use my hands to milk it even more. When I had my hand around his shaft there was still a good 4 inches of cock to feed my hungry mouth. Those are the cocks I was born to service. There was no telling how much pre cum I was leaking but I am sure the floor was getting a good coating. Soon enough our dollars ran out and the lights came on. I saw him reaching for his wallet and asked if he would rather come over and share the booth. After all, I knew already that I wanted to taste every inch and there is always that little bit that can't be forced through a glory hole. He agreed and I unlocked my door. He walked in and while he put some money in the machine I was pulling out his cock. Now that we were in the same booth, my eyes had to be the size of half dollars...it was actually larger and longer than I thought. Two hands would still leave a couple of inches uncovered. And at that point I saw the piece de resistance as I would call it....the full red ginger bush that was not visible at first...HOT!!!! I got down on my knees and continued the blow job. He was hard and knew that I was a hungry cum pig. While kneeling and sucking him, he began to play with my nipples a bit and commented that I was doing a great job on swallowing it all. Between the nipples and being able to swallow almost a foot of cock, well you know I was beyond rock hard. He leaned over and was playing a bit with my butt and also leaned in for some kissing. While he was semi bent over I did not neglect that impressive piece and kept going back. Some angles, as you cock whores like me know, are perfect for even more deep throat - as he was leaning back up I got it down to the balls and just about shot my load then and there. While I was feasting on cock, he also reached down to stroke my cock - being as tall and lanky as he was we were able to keep his cock in my throat while he grabbed mine. "That has you rock hard" he said and I could only agree....Hell yes, over a foot of smooth hot cock being fed to me ...um, yes that gets me all the time! He was also getting into letting me take it and as he got closer to cumming he let me know. I stayed on my knees and he lined up that cock and began to feed it to me. He liked it more when I was not holding but instead would just let him fuck my mouth or take over and just swallow every available inch. What started as a slow and steady blow job turned into a face fucking frenzy on my part and I was taking about 7 inches of cock as fast as I could... and that put him right at the edge to start the cum shooting. I had told him to shoot it all over me and the first first volleys of spooge hit my collar bone and chest and the rest was dripping nicely down my chest. Looking down I could see thick white gobs of cum. I licked a few of them off and ate it. At that point he asked if I had anything to clean up with and all I could do was grab my favorite baseball hat and use it to wipe up the extra cum...and that was something he was not expecting. His comment as I was wiping up spooge so that I could put my shirt back on was "that is so dirty, I love it". The saga continues.... I was about to head out when I saw a guy that to me appeared to be eastern european, dark hair, smooth complexion and late 20's. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans but something about him just said tourist to me. I may be wrong but you judge from the next bit... He walked past and made eye contact so I went into the booth with a glory hole. Once again, I heard the other door open and saw him putting his bag down. Ok, so far so good. He put money in and kept standing there so I sat on the chair in my booth and motioned for him to let me suck him. He slowly undid his pants and pulled out a nice thick uncut cock. BONUS!! After a minute or so he did walk over and slip his still semi soft uncut cock into the hole. These are the challenges I love - a semi soft cock that I can work up to a full frenzy and hopefully a load. I started with swallowing him to the base and using my tongue and throat. Many of you may say that I should work on the foreskin but I have learned from a good friend that not all uncut men want the foreskin played with and assuming it could be a huge turn off for them. So, I worked on getting him hard and when he stared to grow it started to expand in every direction. Longer and wider with each passing moment. Now, remember that I just had over 12 inches of cut cock spurting cum all over me so I was in cum over drive, and now I had this hot uncut (in my mind european tourist) growing hard and leaking some pre cum. I pulled off a couple of times to stroke that cock and take a breath. Then I went back to swallowing it all. This cock was wide and filled my mouth to capacity. At one point he stepped back to add some more money to the video and then came back to the hole. He grew even more and I knew that it was not long before he was going to need to release that cum. Well, here is the tragedy of this story - he was one of those rare men that for some reason likes to be sucked but does not like to cum in a mouth. He pulled out just as I was feeling and tasting the first shot. He stood back and let me see that sweet thick white cum oozing from the head. I may have wanted to have the cum, but as I have said in the past - I am a cum pig and it is really all about the other guy enjoying it and getting off. He got off and I got to taste that sweet foreskin. As I was leaving the building I saw him outside and he gave me another smile...so who knows, maybe if I see him around again he will reward me with the full load now that he knows I will take it. More...

To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here So yesterday Grindr made a hit locally. Actually a number of in from out of town guys were on. Not sure exactly all what's happening, but it's happening. The winner was a guy who claimed to be married and only wanted to jo. I was clear with him that this was not my scene and I will also cop to that I was like so many assholes who try to get with me - meaning, they hit me up in hopes of changing my mind, which almost never works. I wanted his dick in my mouth, it was that nice of a penis. But he wanted to nothing more than to stroke off in front of me. He would have liked me to beat off too, but I told him that was not my scene. ...and as you know, it isn't. But I went to his hotel room and watched him stroke his really thick 7.5". The one he said guys had told him was the perfect cock - the best one to hold and to suck. But he wasn't letting me. I played with his nipples and he with mine. I lightly touched his hairy nuts. I grabbed his lubed up rod and stroked that a bit too. He was close. He told me. "Are you hungry?" I told him I was. "Get on your knees". I did. "Open your mouth". I did. He got close, but not too close. He stroked and stroked some more and then got just a little closer. My mouth opened. My tongue was extended. And then he shot. I'd like to say I caught it all, but with him not willing to put his head in my mouth, I could only get about three-quarters of his jizz. You know how it is, that spurting cum is a bit uncontrollable. You can't always direct it. Some went on the floor, some went in my goatee. Most went in my mouth. For a guy who had jacked-off earlier in the day he had a huge load and it tasted good. I was happy to have gotten it. He was done and so was I. I tried to snap a pic of the load in my goatee, but I don't think it came out horribly well. Maybe next time. More...

To see SFVersCumBoy's original blog post click here Last week a local buddy and I tried to hook up so that he could give me a tasty load. Today he and I connected again and arranged to get me on my knees. We met up at one of my local private tearooms for the extra privacy since he was a little nervous. There were a few guys coming and going so we waited and when it was clear we walked in and I shut the door behind us. He was taller than me, and wearing jeans and when I undid his belt and pulled down his underwear I was greeted by a nice thick mushroom head. Being nervous he was not fully hard yet, but you know that won't stop me. I leaned in and swallowed every inch. I do love a nice mushroom head and this one was very hefty indeed. While slowly getting him harder and harder, I was having a great time working the head further in my mouth and towards my throat. Each time I would get all of his cock in my mouth, I would also use my hand to stroke and then slurp on the head again. He was leaking some pre cum into my mouth and when he was nice and hard, it was like holding a champagne cork....grasp the base and the head just covers the rest of your hand. TASTY! For this first encounter we did not worry about the video camera ( he likes the movies on here, so I offered) and when he was getting ready to cum I wanted to taste it all. He let me know he was close but I could tell from how huge the head and shaft started to get - so I was prepared. Or so I thought. The first shot went onto my tongue and I could taste it...and then my mouth was flooding with spurt after spurt. I could not count how many times I felt his shaft growing and spurting out cum but eventually I had to swallow and there was still a bit more. I did the polite thing and slowly milked the last drop out and licked that mushroom head until it was good and spit shiny clean. We both headed out and it was another successful blow job in the land of cum and pigs. More...