rawloadstaken

Never again. Never, ever again.

Never again will I leave the house without at least an enema bulb in my gym bag.

I've been exhausted recently, and last night I didn't watch my diet as much as I should. (Hello homemade brownies.) Tonight, however, I went by my favorite ABS because I was in the mood to fuck some ass, and I had the chance to add a load to one that was already pretty cum-slick.

I also had the chance to suck on a gorgeous, thick, perfectly-sized, perfectly-shaped uncut cock, and about five minutes in, he pulled back and asked if I bottomed.

*aigh*

I admitted that I wasn't sure how clean I was, and he commented that he'd really wanted to give me his load, then zipped up and walked out of his booth.

Never again will I be without some means of ensuring I'm cleaned out.

It's like the old American Express® commercials: don't leave home without it.

Oh ... what the hell.

I think I'll - to borrow a line from Shakespeare - screw my courage to the sticking place and head to Saturday's FurFuck at HawksPDX.

I usually go on Wednesdays - Lights Out is far less disconcerting for me - but I'll give it a shot and see what comes up.

"They're still gon' put pictures of my derriere in the magazine
 You want a piece of me? (You want a piece of me?)"

Britney Spears, Piece of Me

---

Because if you do want my derriere -- if you do want a piece of me -- I'm offering it during Wednesday afternoon's Happy Hour at Hawks PDX, and I'm planning on being a sling and darkroom cumdump during Wednesday night's Lights Out, also at Hawks PDX.

C'mon guys, load me up: you want it, I need it, and you'll be donating to both Hawks' bottom line and my empty bottom.

I think one of my hottest encounters this last year was with J, a guy who loved whoring me out in bookstores. He'd start fucking me raw about six inches from a glory hole, and we'd always wind up with at least two or three guys who wanted head, and a couple who wanted my ass.

The most memorable visit, though, cost me nothing but some leg cramps.

He and his friend took me to the ABS. I got into one side of the GH booth with my top, and his friend went into the other. I kept trading off between the two cocks, and then J dropped $100 in the bill receiver, pushed me back against the hole, and held my ass open after his friend was done.

I don't know if they'd put an ad up, or were just hoping that the time of day would conspire to grant them multiple tops, but around twenty loads, I lost count: I was too damn cum drunk and horny to worry about numbers.

By the time his money ran out, I couldn't really feel my ring anymore, and the cum flooded out when I stood up.

Out of curiosity, does anyone in Seattle need an indiscriminate cumdump any time after about 4 p.m. on Monday through about midnight on Wednesday?

I'll be hitting Club Z and Steamworks, and probably visiting the Eagle.

Any other suggestions?

Full Disclosure ... or close enough thereto

-----

While I shan't promise to air all of my dirty [dirty, dirty, so very, very dirty] secrets, this hunkering has left me with naught but virtual salaciousness for far too long.

That said, I'll show you mine, as it were, should you choose to slide yours into my inbox, so let your conscience - or lack thereof - be your guide, ask or say whatever you wish, and let me know if you want my answers to be public or private.

To be honest, though, it doesn't even have to be naughty, just ... to be.

Questions? Ideas? Suggestions for books or blogs? Discussions about art history? Favorite movies or musicals? Recipes? Photography?

Let me know what interests you, and I shall, in return, provide a more well-rounded view of what makes me tick.

Yes, I'm an unrepentant slut; however, just like my bisexuality, my social / political / religious views, and my dreams and desires, being a bareback cumdump bottom with an unholy craving for throbbing raw cocks stretching my ass to its limits and flooding my guts with uncountable loads is only part of my personality: each element helps to make me who I am, but no one aspect forms the metaphorical bedrock upon which the core of my being rests.

Long story short, even though being an introvert means that I can be alone without feeling lonely, this does not mean that I do not occasionally crave even the most remote of interactions.

Public Service Announcement

Never sneeze when:

[1] your ass is loaded with cum,
[2] you're wearing khaki linen shorts, and
[3] you're in the middle of a grocery store

Luckily I got out of there before it started leaking through, but there was a definite *splat* in the the kitchen of my apartment when I finally got home.

All I can say is thank heavens my roommate had already left for work.

9.5", 2.5 hours, 4 loads.

Oh yeah, I'll be visiting him again.

Admission:

My local ABS are closing for at least two weeks, the Oregon Theater closed, CumUnion has been canceled, and I've not seen a single Sex Now ad in the last eleven days. That said, I slaked my thirst, and now shall play it safe - as regards the coronavirus, of course, for I shan't use that term to describe my views on condoms - until this pandemic is under better control.

Pros:

Took three loads in the ass, got to swallow two, and was called both handsome and hot whilst cruising.

Cons:

Two individuals were 86'd for... less than appropriate behavior, one had outstanding police trespassing notices, two kept going limp as soon as their glans touched my hole, and one was so high that he crashed backward, slammed into the wall, and started slurring and moaning.

That last one? Yeah ...

All in all, while the sex was enjoyable, I've taken enough risks this go-round, and shall rely instead on a pageant wave for the foreseeable future.

Alright: it's Saturday afternoon/evening, I'm cleaned up and cleaned out, I have some money in my wallet, and I've got a full tank of gas in the car.

Time to see what kind of trouble I can get into.

Wish me luck!

An unfortunate PSA:

If your cocksucker starts screaming into your crotch and tries to push you away, don't assume it's out of pleasure or because you're going too deep. I don't know what lube was on that last guy's cock - it was sweet, and sticky, and gritty, all at the same time - but my throat and the inside of my mouth is blistered, my lips are cracked, and I've been dizzy and nauseous enough that I've been staggering around like I'm drunk all day.

Really made work a joy, y'know?

I'm still not completely steady on my feet, and thanks to my local pharmacy I've got prednisone and amoxicillin close to hand, but I don't think I'm going to be playing much for the next two weeks. I need my system to settle down.

Argh! I'm fucked -- and not in the good way that calls for a cigarette afterward -- in trying to get to Seattle for next week's sex trip.

It wasn't until after I booked my hotel -- a $250 non-refundable fee, thanks to a discount through Booking.com -- that the facility advised me that I need to use a parking garage, as they don't have any on-premises parking.

I'm either looking at staying in an offsite garage at a cost of $110 / 3 days, dropping roughly $120 for a round-trip Bolt Bus ticket and a taxi, or spending right around $150 for Amtrak and the Metro bus.

This trip has just shot from $250 (plus one tank of gas: I love my Prius) to around $400, and that's before entry fees to Club Z and Steamworks Seattle.

FML

As I mentioned in this post, I got royally and thoroughly fucked tonight.

I jacked off when I got home -- yeah, getting a load fucked out of me really wasn't enough -- I came harder, and more, than I have in months.

I think -- although I may very well be wrong -- that I may possibly be a slut.

I'll need a few dozen more encounters to be sure, but I feel like I just might be heading in that direction.

As my birthday approaches ... again ... damn it  ... I'm debating what I want to do with that time.

• Should I go to Hawks, the Oregon Theater, various ABSs, hit up CraigsList, and use both apps and websites to collect loads?
• Should I take a one or two day trip to Seattle to visit Club Z, Steamworks, Hawks, and hit up the Seattle sites and apps for loads?
• Should I fire up Skyrim, get a haircut, sit down for a manipedi, and grab a pizza?
• Or ... or ... or ...

Oh, don't get me wrong: I know what I should do, I'm just not sure of what I will do.

Didn't get any cocks in my ass this weekend, but at least I managed to swallow a half-dozen loads.

I will say this much: it pisses me right the hell off when someone comes into the other booth and contorts until they see your face, then turns around and walks out the door.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not hung like a stallion, I don't have a hairless and chiseled body, and my face is not one that will launch a thousand ships, but I don't think I'm that hideous. And I know people have preferences, and I shouldn't let it bother me, but damn it, if there are only three people in the booths, and the other one is locked in a private booth, repeatedly hopping into the next booth, scoffing, and then walking out is more than a bit rude.

Grrr.

Okay, done whinging.

I now return you to your regularly-scheduled jacking off.

Four raw cocks. Four pullouts.

Three loads on the floor, one on another guy’s dick. Who then used it to jerk off and dumped his load on the floor.

Argh.

Grrr ...

Welp, I guess it's time to get back on BBRT ... and Squirt, and M4SNow, and A4A, and ManHunt, and ...

Had to cancel on the thick-dicked top: work has been kicking my ass lately, and two hours of sleep per night just isn't cutting it anymore.

With any luck, though, I'll be able to hit Hawks for FurFuck, but -- as much as it pains me to admit it -- I may also just stay home and sleep.

I plan on getting my fuck on again soon -- my hole is hungry for raw cock and hot seed -- but right now, I'll live vicariously through the kinky fuckers I'm following.

Plow on, dudes. Plow on.

Huzzah!

Finished up the last of the antibiotics on Thursday.

Went back to getting fucked on Friday.

I never did get around to gaming this last week, but damn me if I didn't play with some joysticks over the last few hours.

I apparently misremembered when my roommate worked. Either that, or she took tonight off.

I came out of my room after being pounded for a half hour and begging for his load only to see her sitting on the sofa watching television and blushing furiously.

He rather sheepishly tucked his dick back into his pants and almost ran out of the door and my roommate and I just stared at one another for a few seconds before we both busted up laughing.

I didn’t necessarily like embarrassing her – or being embarrassed – but hey, this is why she’s a kick-ass roomie.

I didn't get a chance to hit Hawks for Fur Fuck tonight: thanks, teammate, for spreading your viral plague to most of the group. I wound up working from home so that I'd be close to certain areas should certain other issues occur; however, if all of us who were sick called out thanks to [redacted] getting us sick, there would have been four people working on Friday, and all of them have offices at least 100 miles away from the office.

That said, if I'm feeling up to it, I plan on hitting Hawks for Wednesday's Lights Out, and if not this week, then definitely next week.

I need the cocks, I need the loads, and -- with everything else going on right now -- I need to let myself float in a cum-fueled haze and feel like an anonymous hole for a bit.

I got to thinking about all of the play I used to have, and I got to thinking about all the places I've been to have it.

Thinking back a few years -- quite a few, I'm afraid --- we used to have a bathhouse in downtown Portland that was the definition of sleazy: run-down, sticky floors, threadbare carpets, and odd ... stains ... on some of the walls, particularly near the gloryholes.

Two of the GH cubbies were just the right size to be able to back up to the hole behind you and still easily reach the cock in front of you, but the rest were just a little too far apart for that. The sling was busy, the downstairs had fuck benches and a couple of standing cubbies, and the upstairs had a steam room that never stopped reeking of cum.

There were so many dark corners and out-of-the-way rooms that it was easy to have as much public play or private space as you wanted.

Ah, Club Portland.

It's where I got my first facial, had my first bukkake shower, and first got fucked in front of a couple-dozen guys during public play. From the cage to the cross, that place was messed up.

We do have Hawks, and I think the venue is in many ways better than -- or, at the least, not as dangerous as -- Club Portland, but there will always be a special place in my heart for the venue that turned me onto bathhouses in the first place.

I just had a 38 y.o. hottie tell me he wanted to fuck me and unload in my ass, then apologize for being so forward.

And who says chivalry is dead?

I love hearing those three little words when I'm with a guy.

"Suck it, bitch."

In completely unrelated news, I swallowed nine loads at the ABS tonight.

I met up with one of my occasional FBs around 10 p.m. Thursday and blew my load as he was plowing me.

Looking back over the last year, I'm a bit surprised at just how often I come without touching myself when I'm being fucked.