ErosWired

I feel I should clarify that I do not eat bananas with ketchup. Not. That. Freaky. This reminds me of a time at a wedding when two of my oldest friends (both women) did a dance around me to the song “Goody Two-Shoes”, pointing at me the whole time. Must be something inside... They had no idea. But although I appreciate your analysis, I’m afraid your analogy misses the mark - I’m not in any sort of denial about what I am, just perplexed at the irrational and counterintuitive nature of it. I think @Spunkinmyarse and @FaceLoad are probably on the right track, that, for good or ill all of these traits and behaviors are pointers to maleness, and it may just be that simple. I could easily be trying to overcomplicate understanding my own response, it’s just that I feel an inner dissonance when I kind of want to tell a guy to fuck off but hear myself telling him to fuck me instead. @FaceLoad - I actually don’t balk at all from considering that a part of my instinct reflects the female - we are all an amalgam of animus and anima. While I don’t think of myself as female, my sexual function is undeniably that of the female in a hetero or dimorphic context. I’m comfortable with this, and even find myself wondering abstactly from time to time what life would be like if I had a vagina instead of a cock: Double the opportunity for penetration, what wouldn’t be to love about that?

I think not. I had an excellent therapist for 20 years before he retired, and he would just snicker at my post above if he saw it. I have no issues with my self-worth. This post is only about an odd phenomenon of sexuality. In other areas of life I hold my own quite well and no man is superior to me save those I acknowledge for their great virtue. It may be that this post is sort of like a guy saying, “I put ketchup on my bananas like everybody does, right?” :: crickets :: Because it may just be a quirk about me; if so, that’s fine. I’m used to being a bit of a freak. But good freaky. 🙂

Actually, the title doesn’t quite cover what I mean, and from the start I want to be clear that this topic isn’t about Alphas. There is no substitute for a genuine Alpha Male who takes control of another man sexually - the sublimity of that arrangement explains itself. Rather, I’m thinking about the way some men strut around taking up more than their fair share of personal space, or sit around with their legs spread, unabashedly ogling every body that passes, offering comments boorish and unrefined (or just whistling), laughing louder than anything could be funny, being ‘bro’, being badass (well, trying to really hard), and being bullies. These are the guys who think they should be in charge, not because they’re the cleverest, but because they’re the most popular and they work out and think it’s awesome that the guys at work did a Haka before the volleyball match against the guys from their rival across town. You know - Men Behaving Badly. Drunkenly. Stupidly. Selfishly. Ignorantly. Arrogantly - as though they own the world and everything in it, know all they will ever need to know and more than you do, and are entitled to whatever they want and anything you have. I can’t stand these kinds of men. Their empty braggadocio and their general impunity grates against my sense of justice. Their joy in their willful ignorance is an affront to my intelligence. But most galling of all is that I absolutely want to let them fuck me because of what they are. Why? Why am I like this? Why does it send a rush through me to think of being ass-up in a room with guys who would say to one another, “Hold my beer” before sliding into me while the others egg him on and call me a whore? Why does this macheesemo that manifests itself in bullying and posturing somehow make them choice Tops for breeding? Does it humiliate me to think, afterward, that I let them callously enjoy my body, seed me, slap my ass and strut off laughing? Yes, yes it does. But I don’t do it to be humiliated. I really don’t understand what it is that gives me an instinctual imperative to service their cocky masculinity. Does anyone understand what I’m talking about? Feel the same thing? Any of you Tops have any theories?

I usually bring a big 7” dildo with me when I slut myself out, and every so often a man will come in, take my dildo and start fucking my hole with it as brutally as he possibly can, jackhammering it in and out way faster than anyone could ever actually fuck, and ramming it in with all his arm strength on every thrust. I can never tell exactly what their motivation is while they’re doing it (usually it’s all I can do to just open myself as much as I can inside, arch my back, and just take it). Some of them seem to be having fun, some of them seem to be testing me to see how much I can take, and some of them seem to be trying to cause me to hurt. This last type I have trouble understanding. Is it because they see me as a lower kind of human that they feel free to perform rape-by-dildo just to watch my sexual suffering? Are they Tops who genuinely believe this is what a faggot deserves? Are they other bottoms taking out their frustrations or trying to sabotage the competition? I really don’t know. I just know that not all of them fuck me afterward - I guess some of them just like to go extreme on another guy’s ass because they can.

Yes, very frequently. The part about taking too long to answer is particularly irksome - I’ve had guys get pissed and caustic if I haven’t texted a full and complete reply in under 10 seconds. Sometimes that’s just not possible, because a) I’m not a speed-texter, b) I may be just recovering from a rough fuck, c) I may be juggling text conversations with two other men as well, and d) the poppers I used to help take that last big cock have blurred my vision and I can barely see what I’m texting in the first place. I also have a special dark place in my heart for guys who open a conversation out of nowhere with the single demand “pics”. I have now taken to responding with images of guitar picks, ice picks, toothpicks, etc. - I have created a selection for that sole purpose. On several threads here lately, I’ve been disappointed to see responses from various members that in some way suggest that rudeness id an acceptable part of our online discourse. They say things like, “Why complain? He’s giving you a filter to use to reject him” or “Assholes are always going to be assholes, just ignore them” or “He has a right to say what he wants - you’d be pissed if someone complained about something you said” or (predictably) “Faggot cumdumps deserve to be talked to like the trash they are”. I say that all of these points of view ignore the fact that the hookup app environment we’re engaged in is no less a social space than the interior of a club. The regrettable trend toward bad behavior behind the mask of internet anonymity is doubly damaging in this case, because when we are seeking intimate sexual connections we must necessarily expose some of the most private and vulnerable parts of our natures. In this circumstance, it is not acceptable for any of us to go about recklessly and rudely striking at people. If you wouldn’t say it in a club, you shouldn’t say it on an app. It’s as simple as that. Now, indeed, a good many of us could stand to grow some thicker skin and not respond with acute butthurt over every perceived slight, but to my mind the onus is primarily on the sender of the message, and not the receiver, to ensure that offense is not offered. Who cares, you may ask, about being polite? We all should. It’s the difference between a world where we interact as enlightened individuals and one in which we sit around in the dark snarling at each other.

I know women who talk of going to gay bars simply so that they can have a drink in peace. The OP has “Guest” affixed in front of his username, which, if I am not mistaken, is done to identify the remaining content of persons who no longer have an account on BZ. I’m sure @drscorpio could explain properly.

Aaaaaaaaand.... in tonight’s news, scientists are finding that the coronavirus may persist in men’s semen for some time even after they recover from the disease. This is believed to be at least partly because the body’s immune system doesn’t fully engage in the testes. This virus has it all, doesn’t it? A deadly pulmonary pathogen you can get by breathing, and an STD at the same time! So even if someone gets the damn thing and survives and is no longer a danger for coughing on someone, he still can’t go fuck because his cock may still be pumping virus. This just gets uglier by the minute.

One thing is certain - Guys are going to get it one way or another. Consider Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, from most to least crucial: 1. Physiological Needs - air, water, food, shelter, clothing, sleep, reproduction (yes, when a guy says, “I need it!” he’s not just horny) 2. Safety Needs - personal security, employment, resources, health, property 3. Love and Belonging - friendship, intimacy, family, sense of connection 4. Esteem - respect, self-esteem, status, recognition, strength, freedom 5. Self-Actualization - desire to be the most one can be All these needs are vital to a human being, but the more basic ones trump those in the next tier. In this case, Maslow might argue that the need for sex (tier 1) would likely win out over an individual’s concern for his health (tier 2). Of course it does - one need only visit the Backrooms of this forum for the proof. An individual’s concern for his health (tier 2) might also trump his needs for friendship, intimacy, sense of connection (all tier 3) and employment and resources (both tier 4) - but not indefinitely. Although all the needs are not equally crucial, they are all necessary for a fully realized person, and must be met in some order or another, often opportunistically. The point is that sex clubs and such venues did not originate simply from the whim of some man with a bankroll and a particularly debauched mind - they arose to meet a combination of human needs that no virus is going to erase. Even now, this discussion isn’t so much about concern over an industry as it is about concern over how we’re all going to get our needs met. I suspect that gatherings will resume, but they may go “underground” for a time, pursued at first mostly by those accustomed to sexual risk-taking, even though the risk extends not just to them but to those around them, because sex will not be denied forever. It may be that in some circles of society exclusive groups arise that segregate on the basis of a rapid on-site Covid test (if developed) where only individuals who test clean are granted admittance. Assuming there actually is a vaccine a year from now (huge If) I feel sure that some new clubs will arise to replace at least some that fail, because the need must be met and nobody leaves cash lying on the ground. What can we do to keep the present ones alive? I don’t know that, on a grand scale, there’s much we can do under the present circumstances. Sometimes you can’t stop a forest fire from taking out a big old tree. When the fire’s out, however, there are always ashes to stimulate new growth, and if we encourage entrepreneurs to start or start anew, and most importantly, elect competent leadership to help us through the recovery, new things will spring up. In the meantime, I think we’re all going to be relying on our apps a lot more 😑 and you can bet your sweet ass they’re going to monetize the hell out of our predicament. If you don’t believe me, review PornHub’s “generousness” in making its premium accounts free because we’re all stuck at home fapping. Great, huh? Except that it’s only free for a week and then they start charging you as normal until you cancel, and it was all a ploy just to get a captive audience to part with their money during a period of record unemployment. Fuck you, PH. See what happens when nobody fucks ErosWired for two months? I start with a nice, reasoned post, and 13 paragraphs later I end up ranting. God, do I need cock. (Tier1.)

^ This, exactly. And then there’s the reality, which is reflected somewhat by another recent thread here that discusses “bottoms who can’t take it”. I mean, it sounds super - getting fucked feels great, so the more you get, it can only get better and better, right? More = Better? Be very, very, very careful what you ask for. Read this carefully, then read it again twice to make sure you get it: If you have no experience taking five or more cocks in a row, if you have never endured a painful fuck to the Top’s completion, if you’ve never taken another cock even when you really, really wanted to stop, if you have never taken a cock too big for you because the Top was determined, or if you expect to exercise control over how you’re fucked in any way - Do Not Offer Yourself For Whoring Out. Now read that again. Because any or all of the above may and are likely to happen to you when you ass-up for a whoring Top. The men who come to fuck you will be even more likely to treat you like a disposable object than a human being, and care even less about your health or discomfort or exposure than they might otherwise (which is scantly at the best of times - one fucked me loudly with the hotel room door wide open and left it that way whennhe departed). When Tops get in their rut, they don’t stop until they’re done. Nature wires them not to. If you take on a whoring-out, you have to be able to accommodate that over and over and over, even if your hole hurts. Even if some of them want it to hurt. Of course, unless you’re tied down (never, never, ever, ever permit it) you could always just get up and walk away when you’ve had enough. But what will you have accomplished? You’ll have royally pissed off the Top who agreed to go to the trouble to whore you out - it’s a lot like work; you’ll have damaged your reputation if the Top talks to other Tops (if you care about such things); you’ll have left yourself with a realization that you’re more sexually limited than you thought (ouch); and you will have contributed unnecessarily to the difficulty that experienced bottoms have in finding Tops willing to whore them because they’ve been burned before by so many unrealistic fantasists. True, every bottom who can do it had to get there somehow. Once, being whored out was just a fantasy for me, too, like everybody else. Once I had had some experience with threesomes, foursomes, multi-breeding days at camp, and my 34-Load Weekend, I decided I could probably handle it if I wasn’t in control - and I was determined to do it no matter the consequences. I’m not using this post to try to tell anybody he can’t. If you believe you’ve got the chops to legit take a full whoring, then shoot the Moon, brother. It’s just that this fantasy is so alluring and so ubiquitous - and the reality so misunderstood - that it makes me want to chime in before somebody has a regrettable experience.

I assume from the many ways that Tops have pleasured themselves with my ass that an ass provides Tops with multiple options for enjoyment, depending on individual taste and appetite. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, when Tops enter the room where I’m in service, they invariably, and I mean without exception, touch my ass first. Some go straight for my hole to test how I am inside, but others seem to enjoy the aesthetic of the outward visual, or linger over the shape, density and consistency of my glutes, and explore all the lines where my intimate areas converge on my anus. When I’m being fucked, I can tell when a Top is all about the visuals when he fucks at hard angles to force my inner lining to ride out along his cock. Others, though, tend to close their eyes and focus on what they’re feeling on the inside of my body. Which is more important to you, the inside or the outside? Would you be eager to fuck an ass that most guys wouldn’t describe as “fuckable” if you knew it felt fantastic inside? Would you be willing to fuck mediocre hole just for the chance to get your hands all over an incredible bubble butt? Curious to hear how you Men answer.

Canada, without any doubt, and as soon as the virus allows. I’ve never been, which is ridiculous given that it’s next door... and besides, there are Canucks on this site that I would so love the opportunity to service... 🙂 I wouldn’t mind giving Berlin a try, and I love London for all sorts of reasons. Paris - merci, non. And Greece. I was on Mykonos in the early 80s before I was aware of myself, and I have always wanted to go back for the island itself; now that I know something else about it, it’s a must-do. The OP asked how far we would travel for loads - I can tell you this: My very first same-sex experience was with a guy who traveled to meet me in Nashville. From the Yukon Territory. In case you’re wondering, that’s at least 3,350 miles, 23 hours of flight time, or 55 hours on the road. He had no other reason to come. I was in the middle of a conference. For his trouble and expense, he got to suck me off twice. He then followed me home to Kentucky, took a room at the hotel close to where I worked, and visited me at work. He was upset when I declined to go with him back to the Great White North. He was nuts, by the way.

Faggotuser’s post here is a good example of a type of comment from certain Tops that leaves me troubled. As it describes me, his distinction between bottoms and cumdumps is spot-on. Had I any doubt in my mind whether I was actually a cumdump, his definition resolves it. I am. The part that’s troubling is where is says, “Most cumdumps eventually accept what they are and are happier knowing they are nameless whores for men to dump loads into.” I can only speak for myself, but... he’s right about me. I’m much, much happier like this. What’s troubling about it is that I may be a human Fleshlight, but that’s not all that I am. When I’m a sexual utility - which in theory could be at any moment of any day - I’m the nameless thing Faggotuser describes. When I’m not, I hold multiple degrees, fathered children (now grown) and had a career in public service for 30 years. The two identities within me are not in conflict. But I fear that many Tops, like Faggotuser, see only the utility and dismiss the rest. Why would I care? Because Faggotuser is among the kinds of Tops I love serving the most, even if (and perhaps because?) I know I’m an object to him and he’s going to take his pleasure in as self-focused a way as possible, and not hold back. Those are the kinds of Tops that usually enjoy a longer fuck, in my experience, except when they’re in a hurry to do something. The only thing that leaves me wondering is whether Tops like Faggotuser actually believe what they say about cumdumps like, whether they actually live it, or whether it’s just a fun persona to wear in places like BZ. I know which one I’d like to believe...

I don’t know how I have managed not to reply to this topic yet. An hour or more, by all means, and here’s my rationale: The Top’s pleasure is my brass ring. Every moment a Top spends inside me is another opportunity to apply such assets, experience and skill as I have to make his experience one that stands out in his memory, bringing pleasure even long after it’s over. One might argue with some validity that success is defined in terms of one’s ability to help a Top to reach the apex of his pleasure - his orgasm - and that is indeed the sine qua non of my efforts. But I also know that every single thrust of his cock sends waves of exquisite pleasure through his body, a sea of sensation that deepens as it goes, and some essentially let go and allow themselves to swim in it. To give a Top that prolonged pleasure in addition to cumming deep inside me at the end, is to my mind the best work I can do, especially since I seem to have been born with an ass that promotes that kind of use, and can easily take it. If, of course, that’s what the Top wants. That’s always the determining factor.

You had better love having guys savagely bite your nipples like they’re going to tear them off, because when I had mine done, every time a nipple-biter saw my metal, it was all fucking teeth. And the one thing that kills my arousal instantly is sharp pain to my nipples. I have an ampallang - a bar straight through my cockhead - and getting that tickled compared to having my nipples done. I saw stars. What’s worse, mine never properly healed in spite of careful treatment, and if I had to take the metal out they would start closing up within hours. I didn’t have very sizeable nipples to start with, so if you have more material to work with you may have better luck. As far as tearing off, just make sure you get a bar that’s well fitted to you, without much overage sticking out on either side that coild get hung on something.

Indeed. A relationship that endures cannot be built upon a lie. This lie is particularly problematic, because to overcome the underlying truth, one of you would have to be willing to give up something so important that it would not be reasonable to ask of someone so early on. Your response suggests that you would tend to be a possessive and perhaps controlling partner. Better to look for someone solely interested in monogamy.

Intent. That is the relevant word here. These absurd false moral equivalencies some of you are holding up hare, where the idea that someone will ‘probably’ end up infected anyway actually justifies intentional stealthing, or absolves the perpetrator after the fact, are irrational. The enduring customs, traditions, rules, laws and taboos that regulate human societies at the base level can pretty much all be distilled down to necessary actions to ensure the survival of the species and individuals within it. While we might question whether it is “moral” or “ethical” or “good” or “right” for an infected person to stealth another, the actual underlying question is, is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals that comprise it for diseased individuals to intentionally make others diseased? The answer, by every possible measure, is NO. Some argue that bottoms who leave themselves more vulnerable to infection “deserve” to be infected, are “asking” to be infected, or are In some way destined to be accidentally infected, so in each case a stealther feels that any normal constraint should not apply. But the bottom, regardless of his carelessness, naïveté, or trusting or promiscuous nature, in this scenario is an undiseased member of the population. Remember the base question? Is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals that comprise it for diseased individuals to intentionally make others diseased? The answer, again, is NO. No, just because he’s a cumdump doesn’t make him fair game. No, the fact that you’re in a bathhouse doesn’t give you a special privilege to hurt people so you can have your fun. NO. Even if, in some inexplicable way, it could be logical to argue that as long as someone has become infected it doesn’t matter how they got that way (?) (!??) the matters of disease, morbidity and mortality are too grave for the society to accept the idea without challenge. The question must be asked: Could the transmission of the disease have been prevented? In the case of the stealther, who has positive knowledge of his condition, the answer is Yes. Yet we know that by base principal the answer to whether one diseased person may knowingly infect another is NO. So if the action that caused the forbidden infection could have been prevented, why wasn’t it? Here we come to Intent. In this situation, something has gone wrong with the social order necessary for species an individual survival. It must therefore be considered a threat and a present danger. The society must respond in such a way as to eliminate the threat. Earlier cultures might have gathered all the individuals with disease an either culled them outright or segregated them in colonies. With the advent of modern medicine, the onus of upholding the bedrock societal imperative falls upon the legal system. And so we see that in many jurisdictions, knowingly and surreptitiously infecting another person with a disease through sexual contact is considered a form of sexual assault. That is to say, stealthing is a criminal act. But what separates an accidental infection from a willful one? What makes one an accident and the other a crime? It is the Intent of the stealther. Regardless of whether a bottom might or might not eventually end up infected, it can be absolutely said that that bottom would not get infected by that stealther except that the stealther made a positive decision to cause it. Any argument that places the responsibility on the bottom for not preventing the transmission from happening fails on causality because had the stealther had not acted on his intent, there would have been nothing for the bottom to prevent. No, there is no defense for stealthing. No, it is not a matter of personal opinion or lifestyle. No, it is not a question of religious dogma. No, just because you person don’t see a problem with it does not make it okay for you to do it. No, the fact that somebody did it to you (sorry) does not give you any right of retaliation. No, just because you’re in a bathhouse make it suddenly acceptable when it isn’t anywhere else. Is it consistent with the survival of the species and the individuals in it for one diseased person to knowingly infect another? NO. It’s fucking wrong, and you know it.

You say “it felt terrible”, but its unclear if you mean it felt terrible for you, your boyfriend, or both of you, and why. Without that information, it’s somewhat difficult to give you useful counsel specific to your situation. I might offer a couple of observations, though. First, communication is essential in every sound relationship, and it should never be allowed to break down. If you feel awkward in talking to him now, it’s a fairly sure sign that it’s now a necessity, and plain honesty is probably your best bet. You might simply start off with “I feel awkward talking to you about this, but I’ve been feeling <what you’re feeling> about what we did for your birthday and I wondered if you would be okay to talk about it.” Or something like that. If you’re absolutely certain it was a disaster for him, you might think about what you could do to make it up to him by way of apology - if that’s the case. If he loved it but you hated that you did it to him, communicating your feelings is still just as important, so that you both can judge the nature of one another’s attraction and level of commitment and trust. Second, if the whoring ended up being a different experience than he had fantasized when he asked you for it, that isn’t necessarily your fault. Mention whoring out a bottom on these boards and an immediate chorus of “Take me! Whore me out! That’s my biggest fantasy!” starts in from all directions. Yet there’s a yawning chasm between the fantasy and the reality when it comes to a bottom being able to take the sustained serial use from strangers that whoring requires. I’m sure you know what I mean if you’ve whored out several bottoms. Bottoms who have actually experienced being whored seem to fall into one of two groupings: The first are those, like myself, who are experienced enough to handle it, or been trained for it, for whom the reality is not a problem. The second are those who have tried it and either bailed out early in the proceedings or swear they’ll never ever do it again. The great majority of bottoms, I believe, would fall into the latter group were their fantasies ever made flesh. As we don’t know from your account how your boyfriend fared or reacted to the experience, we can’t speculate on whether he is of the first or second type, but regardless, he received what he requested, and what by all accounts every bottom thinks he greatly desires. If his fantasy butted heads with his reality, this is an opportunity for the two of you to talk it out and get to know one another on a more intimate basis. Best of luck to you both.

Exactly, and thank you. There is no way the figures I cited above are telling the whole story, yet I fear they will tempt many a man to give in.

I did not see that coming.

And by your own account a cocky provocateur as well? No, I can’t imagine any “clicking” either. Some personalities are like oil and water. Thank you very much; consider it done, and please accept my genuine sympathy for your unfortunate situation. To find that you have so much perfect sex with stunningly beautiful and sexually superior men that you have to look to lesser men for novel experiences must be a hard thing, realizing that there is nothing higher to strive for. As Browning posits, A man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for? I wish you peace.

I can’t speak for the OP, of course, but I would speculate that there is a significant difference between a submissive personality and that of a man willing to debase himself for profit. The power exchange with a submissive is granted by the submissive - the submissive powers the exchange. But in the power exchange involving profit, the power derives from the person with the cash; the cash empowers the exchange. With the submissive, there is always the tacit, even if unspoken, even if protested, understanding that the submissive actually desires to undergo what happens. In the other case, the straight guy may very much not want to undergo what happens, but agrees to it as a condition of getting the thing he wants more - the cash. The person paying is therefore in a position of much more potential power and control over the other than he would be with a submissive. In essence, he is purchasing his target’s consent. Once sold, it cannot be reclaimed. No submissive would ever feel the same torment as a money-hungry man trying to decide between a wad of green and an act of personal debasement and humiliation. That’s my hypothesis, anyway.

I’ve had two different Doms attempt to sleep for the night with their cocks up in me. I can’t speak to what happens when two such conjoined men move around in their sleep, because on both occasions I didn’t get a wink of shuteye all night. I remember each time, in the quiet and stillness of the room, being acutely aware of the presence of their cocks in me, of each subtle movement of their bodies. I don’t think either of them slept all that deeply either, because every little while the man in me would stir, wrap his arm more firmly around me, and I would feel him swell again. He would push back in as deep as possible, maybe fuck a stroke or three, mumble something something, boy, something, wrap his legs around me like a body pillow and settle in again. Both times, this went on all night. Fortunately, the one who snored did so only briefly. Both of them railed me with morning wood on waking up, but only one of them bought me breakfast afterward...

This is an interesting perspective. Some might argue, at this stage of the pandemic, that staying home and abstaining reduces the risk of personal secondary infection and drops the chance of being responsible for transmitting the disease into the home to zero. But as things begin to loosen up even slightly and/or balls finally become so blue they’re mistaken for large blueberries, I think this rationale is likely to become the norm. As the Little Head begins constantly and increasingly loudly saying ‘Grrrrrr...gottafuckgottafuckgottafuckgottafuckgottafuckingFUCK,‘ the Big Head’s problem-solving, analytical side begins to rationalize the numbers. As of April 29, the USA, a nation with a population estimated at 331,006,651, has recorded 1.07 million cases of coronavirus infection. That’s a whopping... 0.32% of Americans known to have been infected - just underJust under 1/3 of 1%. The total deaths resulting have been an appalling 61,638 (not counting those who pass even as I write this, may God keep them), or 0.019%?. In my state of Kentucky, statewide cases affect 0.099% of population - that’s almost 1/100th of 1% - or 102/100,000 people. Louisville is by far the state’s hotspot (and not just because I host there) at 0.2% of citizens infected - 167/100,000 - and 90 dead, .015%, 12/100,000. Indianapolis, where, alas, my bathhouses are, is worse off. The city has 18% more infections than Kentucky has in the entire state, and the trend is upward. 565.4 cases per 100,000; the death rate stands at a grim 34.8/100,000. In @CuriousDallas’s state of Texas, they’ve tallied 27,054 cases, 96/100,000 citizens. The death rate in the Republic is 3/100,000. In Big D, the risk is significantly higher than the state average - coronavirus has infected at a rate of 129.6/100,000, with deaths running at 3.8/100,000. That’s a lot of numbers, and I hate numbers, but the point is that I can easily see men looking at the numbers in terms of risk and weighing it against the increasing imperative of their sexual drives, which, let’s face it, always fucking win in the end. What - 96 out of 100,000? That’s like one in 10,000 odds! What are the chances? I gotta have some ass, man. I’m going. Put in perspective, that’s roughly the same odds as finding a four-leaf clover. Put in a different perspective, luck is something you engineer; dead is dead; I would never, ever forgive myself if my nearly 80-year-old mom died of Covid because I wanted a fuck; and I don’t keep four-leaf clovers in my ass, but you’re welcome to search for them there as long as you like - one of us is definitely going to get lucky. How individual men approach this will be interesting to watch.

I’m glad this thread resurfaced - even if the post quoted above is eight years old, I can’t help responding to it. Albeit this is clearly just a reflection of one Top’s personal tastes, I disagree with his premise in point (2), suggesting that the sex for total bottoms amounts to nothing more than a business transaction (was he paying for it?) and that it never provides any challenge. Without a doubt, there are cumdumps who are solely in it for the loads they get, and if they can get them lying there and soaking them up like a limp sponge, that’s fine with them. I, however, am cut from different cloth. No, you don’t have to seduce me, but I take pride in giving as much play as I’m getting from a Top. The very, very best sex happens when a strong, hungry, aggressive and dominant Top enters me and there ensues between us a competitive struggle to determine whether I bring him to orgasm with my skills, or he fucks me into submission and cums on his own terms. As to (3), if I read him right, he seems to be saying that he doesn’t enjoy sex when it’s really well performed, which... wtf? I’m not sure what he means by “a well-rehearsed play” - in my case it’s a case of sexual skill and asscraft put to use kin the best way I know how for the pleasure of the Man who has honored me by putting himself inside me. It’s not a theatrical performance; it’s more the work of a sexual athlete. I mean, if this guy prefers goofy, awkward sex interspersed with laughter, more power to him. But that’s hardly to say that there aren’t total bottoms who strive to provide a high quality fuck. Not many men walk away from my room without a smile on their face.

This reminds me of a time a few years ago at camp when I was bent over a picnic table on a dark evening, and a man came in behind me and started fingering my hole. He took a long time about it, stretching me, inserting another finger, stretching, inserting, etc., until I was pretty sure he was going to try to fist me. It made me nervous, because I could tell from his shape in the near-dark that he was a big guy, and from his fingers that he had big hands. But he wasn’t trying to fist me. He had spent all that time preparing me for his cock. And it was massive. I use the word without exaggeration. It was all I could do to just grip the edges of the table and gasp as he fucked me. After only a few strokes, however, he pulled out and said, “Had enough?” I replied, “That depends - have you?” ”No,” he said. ”Well, back at it, then,” I answered, and bent back over the table. He took his time to finish, but it wasn’t all that long before he blew inside me. I never actually got a look at him or his cock, but before he walked off into the dark he paused, as though he wanted to say something, but then he was gone. I like to think that he enjoyed himself, and was glad to have found a bottom willing and able to take his fuck - I’ll bet he didn’t get to really let go very often.