rawloadstaken

Okay, Xtube's taking too long for my impatient ass, so I uploaded the video on Tumblr and Twitter.

Full Disclosure ... or close enough thereto

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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.

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.

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.

Well ... damn it.

Chlamydia. In the butt. 

Throat and urine are fine, no syphilis, no gonorrhea, no HIV.

Just butt chlamydia. 

In the butt. 

Damn it. 

Antibiotics prescribed. Picking them up tomorrow. No play for two weeks.

Ah well, I'll put it behind me -- as it were -- soon enough. 

On the bright side, less monetary outlay, and more time for video games! 

"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.

Mmmmm. Uploaded a couple of photos from my fifteen load trip to Seattle to my XTube profile.

Leaving work tonight, I was -- as I often am -- horny.

I went to Peeps Too in Beaverton because (a) it was closer than Mr. Peeps in Aloha, and (b) because I like the staff better.

I grabbed my change, chatted with one of the lead clerks for a few minutes, we swapped some very corny jokes, and I headed to the glory holes to drop a load, all the while thinking, "I'm going to get head, or fuck some ass. I want to pump, dump, and leave. I want a mouth or an ass wrapped around my raw dick."

Then I got into the booth, and a fat, uncut dick was being pumped on the other side.

Damn right I dropped to my knees.

It took close to ten minutes, and I was shivering and grunting while he was skull-fucking me, but he finally blew a huge load in my mouth, and it was delicious.

I stood up and realized that -- at some point during that rather enthusiastic blowjob -- I'd shot my load in my jeans, so I dropped trou and started wiping up. I was pulling up my trousers when I saw a hand come through the hole and thought, "what the hell. I'll let him suck me off."

He was good. He was very good. Very, very good.

I gave him my second load, and my balls are still empty.

So yeah, I got the head I wanted, and I drained that guy's cock the way he deserved.

So apparently, given the right encouragement, I can be a fairly dom top.

Stopped by the bookstore on the way home -- it's been a hellacious two weeks -- and wanted to drop a load.

I had a cute guy, maybe in his thirties, start sucking me through the gloryhole, and then he came into my booth. We got enough lookers / grabbing through the hole that we went to one of the other non-gh booths together, and that's when things started getting interesting.

He was into my cock ... I mean, he was into it. Sucking, drooling, deep-throating, and when he came up for air, he asked what I liked. Heh. Not exactly what you should ask a part-time sadist, y'know?

We wound up kissing, I found his nips were hard-wired, and by the time I was done with his neck, he had palm-sized hickeys and bite marks from the nape of his neck to his ass.

He asked what I wanted and I told him either his mouth or his ass right now, but I wanted both of them before we left the booth. He wanted to get lube, and I told him that spit was good enough, and that got him moaning.

I fingered his ass while he was getting me wet, and then I turned him around, bent him over, took a sniff to make sure he was clean, and started eating his hole. He was moaning louder than the video. Side note: do you know how hard it is to laugh when you have a tongue up someone's ass?

I got him dripping, then started pushing in. He pulled away twice, and the third time I held his shoulders and just went slowly. Once I was balls-deep, he just moaned and started bucking against me.

"Fuck me, sir. Make me yours. Use me however you want me."

Usually that kind of talk leaves me a bit meh, but this time it was hot as hell, and yeah, it did make me fuck him harder.

I dropped a huge load in him, let him finish jerking off, and then had him clean off my dick with his mouth.

Pulled him up, gave him another kiss, and we said we'd look out for one another sometime.

Maybe it'll happen, maybe it won't, but I'm already working up another load, and my beard still smells like his ass.

Grrr ...

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

Seriously, bottoms, please clean up.

I understand the drive -- really I do -- to have a cock in you as often as possible. To want those loads. To crave the feeling of anonymous nut flooding your guts and oozing out as you walk.

I know how difficult it is to suck on a gorgeous cock and not be able to stuff it in your ass. To feel that regret, to feel your pucker twitching, as though by drawing in the air around it, it will also magically draw the cock into your guts.

I fully appreciate the unfettered desire -- hell, let's be honest: the deep-seated need -- to be plowed raw and left dripping and sweaty. To be nothing more than a fuck-hole. To exist, at least for a time, as nothing more than a cumdump. To take not just anonymous cocks and anonymous loads, but to be -- in and of yourself -- anonymous.

But your filth fucks it up.

Are there guys who like four-wheeling through the mud? Absolutely. By the same token, though, there are those who prefer our motor trips to be on clean, empty streets.

And tops, please: hygiene, hygiene, hygiene.

Don't get me wrong: I love cheese. The smooth spread and deep rich flavor of triple cream Brie? Luxurious. The toothsome texture of a parmesan wedge? Phenomenal. The funk and crumble of a good Gorgonzola? Be still my beating heart.

Self-produced? Ah ... no. Just ... just no.

And yes: when I know I'm -- as the adage goes -- "clean as a whistle," clean, it's relatively easy to persuade me to do AtM. That said, if I approach you before I've had you in my ass, and you already smell like you've been cock-diving in a dumpster filled with rotting squirrel anuses, I'm fairly sure I'm going to be turned off.

So come on ...

Do I like to fuck? Love it.

Do I like to be fucked? Love it.

But I'll be honest: even though I'm versatile, and even though I love all permutations of [[human with cock] + [human with holes]], between being subjected to rank phalli and rather a large quantity of egesta, I'm beginning to wonder if a life of celibacy wouldn't be a better option.

Y'ever have an encounter that left you wanting to stop topping until you'd shed and evacuated a few layers of cells from inside your urethral opening? Or one that left you taking a soft toothbrush and antibacterial soap to the head of your penis? Or one that wound up with you shaving your pubes so you could scrub down to the skin?

Asking for a friend.

Oh, before I forget, I wanted to let you know that I may never use it on this site, but I do occasionally drop a bit of purple prose into my writing.

#themoreyouknow

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.

Last night I went to the ABS near my office to try my luck, and to see if I could perform after the last disastrous encounter.

I took one nice, average length, uncut cock down my throat, and got a huge, delicious load out of it a few minutes later. Hot, hot, hot.

I went a couple of booths over, dropped trou, and started stroking my dick. A hot young Asian went into the booth next to me, dropped some money into the bill collector, and knelt down for my dick. I pushed it through the glory hole and he started sucking me, and *damn* was he a good cocksuicker. Once I heard his belt and zipper, though, I knew where this was going.

Once he started lubing me up, I got even harder, and then it was some pressure, and a long, smooth glide into his ass. He was the one pumping: he'd get almost to my head, then push back -- on a couple of occasions, slamming back -- onto my cock.

He fucked himself onto me for a good five or six minutes until I could not hold it any longer, and I unloaded in his ass. He pulled off and sucked me clean, then kept stroking me and pushed me back into his ass. I fucked him for another ten minutes or so until I blew a second load, let him clean me off, and tucked myself away. Yes, it's possible -- possible, mind you, but not absolute -- that I could have come a third time, but I was getting a little sore, and I did have appointments to keep.

TL;DR, yeah, I can still perform, and yeah, I can still fuck a nice ass and feel good about it.

Yes, he was (claiming to be) undetectable, but I still took my first confirmed raw poz cock Saturday. Eight (maybe a bit more) glorious thick inches for about two hours and three loads. Met up with another gentleman with similar measurements and status -- about an inch longer, but a little less plump -- but that was ... ah ... mmm ... let's just say things didn't go as planned, and we're going to try again later.

So yeah, that Adam4Adam guy? He missed out on being my first, but he sure wasn't my last.

At any rate, Tuesday (Hallowe'en) was another "I have no idea of their status" gloryhole days.

I took one giant ass-wrecker -- probably thicker than any I've taken in the last year: he was about the same girth  as the two cocks from my bathhouse double-fuck last week combined -- and he dumped a huge load in me. I was gaping and aching when he was through -- there's only so much poppers and determination can do, after all -- but I spun around and cleaned him off with my tongue, and I loved the flavor of my ass and his cum together.

About ten minutes later I started sucking a daddy bear through the glory hole, then let him into my booth. He felt my wet hole while I was blowing him, then told me to turn around and sit on his dick so that he could breed me, and who was I to refuse such a politely-worded request?

Okay, admittedly his words were more along the lines of "you're going to take my load, aren't you? You're my little cum whore, yeah? Gonna breed your bitch hole," but I'm sure he meant the banter to be flirtatious.

Yeah, he left another huge load in me, and I sucked him clean afterward, too.

Long story short, while I'm not now -- and shan't ever be -- a chaser, and while I will remain on PrEP and hope that I stay negative, and while I'm well aware that I've likely taken numerous poz loads without knowing it, and while I'm well aware of the transmission statistics for undetectable v. low viral load v. high viral load, I can officially say I've pretty much eradicated the last remnants of my phobia against knowingly taking confirmed poz loads.

Starting next Monday, I'm taking a sexcation to Seattle.

I should get in around 1:30 - 2:00 p.m., then -- once I've checked into the hotel and done a bit more prep -- I'll likely do some walkabouts, then head over to Club Z in the early evening. I'm also planning on hitting Steamworks on Tues/Wed night, as both the Lights Out and Bear Hump nights sound awesome.

In between (hopefully) getting plowed into a sloppy mess at those locations -- and yes, feel free to come by and use me as your cumwhore -- any suggestions as to what I should do while I'm there?

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.

There's a certain measure of irony in finally having a month where my personal time, work schedule, and finances would permit me to spend a couple of afternoons at various ABS locations, set up a hotel breeding party, and visit Hawks for Lights Out three times before May rolls in ... and we're currently - and understandably - under a shelter at home policy, which means that all of the aforementioned options are currently closed to me.

Oh well ... I've needed to reorganize my bedroom and work on my bread recipes for the almost six weeks, so at least I have that going for me.

Please excuse me whilst I fall back upon my fainting couch, my wrist pressed to my forehead, as my melancholy forces me to succumb to the vapors.

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.

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'd like to be a bit slutty this weekend.

Other than Imagine That, any thoughts on the best places in Bend to get loads?

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.

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.

Oh, one other note: I'm heading to Eastern Oregon in a couple of weeks to visit family, so I'll likely start cleaning out a day or two in advance. I usually like to at least try to get a load or two on my way out of town, and I used to get at least one late night load at Imagine That when I got into Bend, but Yelp indicates that it's now shut down.

I'm going to call later on today -- just in case it is, and the phone number's been assigned elsewhere, I don't want to wake anyone up -- but if it has, I feel sorry for the horndogs in Bend who used its gloryholes, as it is ... or at least was ... the only game in town.