ErosWired

I’m not sure the likely scenario is so much that the slighted guy would plot revenge against the specific guy who said something, as it might be that he would just decide that honesty wasn’t paying interest and simply lie to the next cumdump. It might be a sort of revenge-by-proxy, but if he looks at cumdumps as objects to start with, one is probably as good as another.

Don’t rule out COVID. Lesser-known effects on the tongue are nonetheless recognized enough to be referred to as ‘COVID Tongue’, and may present with symptoms similar to what you describe. Do a search on the term and see if it checks any boxes for you. If so, I recommend getting tested as soon as possible.

That’s typical of my luck. It’s an ongoing miracle I’m not struck my meteors every time I leave the house. One of my doctors explained it pretty simply: “My profession failed you.”

After taking 13 loads in my latest night hotel hosting.

Regrettably, he’s just as likely to be correct about this. I continue to encounter more people shockingly short on conscience than I would have liked to have believed were among us. And in this arena I confess to myself being guilty of advocating a kind of double standard - while I deplore a man who would lack consideration of another person such that he would let him catch an illness, I frankly greatly hope that any Top who walks through my door is going to fuck me without placing my comfort over his pleasure. It is perhaps unfair of me to encourage men to treat me as a sexual object on the one hand, and use me in ways one would not normally use another human being, and at the same time expect them to think of me as a person. I’m not one of those I’m-a-piece-of-trash bottoms who actively promote a culture of abuse, but the very act of making myself available for hard use, and enduring some of the devolved acts performed on me, may itself contribute to a general lowering of standards. Still, I don’t propose to change; I have seen so many men give vent to a primal aspect of their nature, and it has been plain on so many occasions that those men desperately needed that outlet for their passions. Better that I should bear the brunt of it, trained and tempered for it as I have been, than someone else who might take genuine harm from it.

That assumes he isn’t actually a person of character who is honest about his status because it’s the right thing to do. Some people do actually stand on principle. It takes an antisocial mindset, in the clinical sense, to knowingly expose someone to a disease, and most people are not sociopaths.

The term cumdump isn’t helpful in that regard. The dump is where the refuse and the filth is put. Last night I also received a random nastygram out of the blue on Grindr from some guy reacting to my having noted that I had taken 12 loads. ”12 loads in - that’s disgusting - totally nasty!” I debated with myself the relative merit of explaining to him that the great majority of men asked me how many loads I had, with the expectation of hearing multiple; or of pointing out that his repressed and prudish opinion had not been solicited; but I finally decided I couldn’t be bothered with him and just blocked him. I didn’t need to sit there with his judgment for my having a dozen men’s fresh seed inside me. Some of it very deep inside me.

Israel is widely believed to be a nuclear power, with estimates of between 80 and 400 nuclear warheads capable of delivery by sundry means including intercontinental - and they built them themselves (with a little help from France). I imagine they are quite capable of setting off a respectable armageddon. Should this all go even further cockeyed (if this were possible) you might be right about Biden in the sense of his personal reelection prospects - I can see such a debacle weakening him as a potential candidate to the point that he’s no longer considered viable to head the Democratic ticket. Not that such blame would be accurate or fair, as his influence, such as it may be, is just that: He does not control the Israelis and is not answerable for the decisions of their leaders. But I just don’t see the issue pulling Trump to the top as the man of the hour to deal with the chaos. He cultivates chaos, eats it, shits it out, and flings the shit like a…well, like a trumpanzee.

This morning a guy hit me up to fuck me, and said, “Is it okay that I have HSV (Herpes simplex Virus)? It’s dormant and no outbreak.” I replied that it would be necessary for him to use a condom, as HSV can spread virus during asymptomatic sheddiing, even when no lesions are present. I explained that because I am immunocompromised I need to take the precautions where I can. His retort was, “Don’t be a cumdump, then. Do you think everyone is as honest as I am?” First, not only am I not obliged to just accept a disease when it’s staring me in the face, as a responsible service cumdump I have a positive duty of care toward every man who might subsequently use my cunt - it’s not just a question of ensuring that I’m not knowingly exposed to HSV, it’s a question of making sure I don’t knowingly become a carrier infecting others. The reality is that HSV is so prevalent in the population, it is a virtual certainty that I have already been exposed - I’ve been fucked well over 1,000 times - even though I’ve never been diagnosed or shown ay symptoms. But I can’t knowingly simply take on the risk if it can be avoided. I’m sure it sucks for the guy to be honest and then get told he isn’t allowed to fuck the cumdump bare. I get it. I’ve faced my share of consequences for being open about my HIV status. But being a cumdump doesn’t automatically mean I have to volunteer to be a petri dish any more than I can avoid.

Alas, mine turns up absolutely nothing to get remotely excited about. Typical. It would be nice to think that images of me are out there titillating people, but I never come across any. It appears my blackmail fantasy will have to remain just that.

I think this is debatable. The factors that will determine the outcome of the 2024 election are diverse, fraught, heavy on domestic focus, and reek with the stench of Donald Trump. We are taught by the scriptures that “there will always be wars and rumors of wars”, and there has been no actual peace in the Middle East in my lifetime; indeed, it could be argued, since Partition. I suspect that for many an Israeli war with its neighbors is simply the inevitable and expected pot boiling over; one expects it much as one expects volcanic eruptions in Hawai’i. That Israel’s war-hawks have taken this opportunity to vent their pent-up military ambitions with as little restraint as possible seems likely to me so sour goodwill toward that nation among those who might have been sympathetic, but I don’t see the world casting the blame for the whole affair upon the United States, let alone its singular President.

I regret the lost time, the lost opportunity, because I did not begin this twenty years earlier in life. Yet if I had, my life would almost certainly have taken a radically different trajectory, and I would have different regrets. I don’t regret being what I am now. I’m supposed to be this. I regret now that time is working against me, making me less tempting to the Men I could be serving. I regret that I live in a place where my chances to submit are so limited. And I regret that Men cannot simply look at me and know they can have me at will - I regret that I am going to waste every moment I am not being fucked.

I tend to reject out-of-hand videos described as one man ‘making love’ to another. Lovemaking, as such, seems to me to inherently imply a level of consideration given to the person being fucked that necessarily precludes the full and natural expression of masculine sexual appetite. Homosexual intercourse is, by definition, a violent act inasmuch as force is required to penetrate the orifice not designed for entry, and some level of discomfort is usually inevitable, and any effort taken by the Top to mitigate that distress in the bottom runs contrary to the instinctive breeding impulse. While I appreciate that some may have a taste for a more sensual approach to sex, my worst-case scenario is a Top who wants to ‘make sweet love’ to me and attempt to gratify me physically - or worse, emotionally - at the expense of his own full satisfaction. I would far, far rather he give full exercise to his lusts, using my flesh to sate his sexual appetite without any thought to whether his violence, brutality or force might distress me. He is a Man. Men are powerful, dangerous creatures, and much more so when in rut - not unlike bison or elk in that regard. I provide myself as breeding stock fully aware of this, prepared and seasoned to withstand the onslaught, for the sole purpose that he will be able to fuck with abandon and enjoy the pinnacle of his sexual entitlement. If he stops short of that out of some misguided consideration for me, we have both failed to make the best of the encounter. To me, videos that depict ‘lovemaking’ fall into two categories: Footage of genuine intimacy between two people that is really too private to be viewed as titillation; and video that sets a tepid example of what sex between two men could be. Admittedly, there will be many who are satisfied with lukewarm encounters who find such content acceptable or even ‘hot’, but from my somewhat epicurean perspective of working to become a kind of ‘delicacy’ to tempt the appetite of Tops, it represents a dish poorly prepared and ill-served.

I have a hotel reservation tonight in Nashville, where my anus will stand in for a cunt, and my bowel for a uterus, in the futile and recreational (and, one hopes, wanton and brutal) acts of reproduction that ensue over the course of the night as fuckhungry Tops in search of ass find my open door. As always, I have begun my preparations early to empty my gut of any possible matter that might distract from the action - and this involves quantities of water entering from both ends. The saltwater wash comes first, where I drink a quart of warm saltwater on an empty stomach as soon as I get up. It’s not pleasant. I can feel it - and hear it - percolating down through my belly on its way to my colon, where it will jump-start the conveyor belt to move whatever’s in the pipeline toward the exit on express. If only that’s all there was to it. But no. Once I let it out (and there won’t be any choice or delay in the matter) it will be time to hit it from the other end. I’ve got it down to a science now; I know just where to turn the knobs on the shower for the right temperature and flow so the water coming out of the metal hose with its bulbous attachment on the end neither scalds nor chills my insides, and doesn’t hit them with enough force to strip paint. I’ll shove the end into my hole, with the attachment head - about 1.5” diameter, snaked up until I feel it pop past my second ring, to endure there’s no impediment to the flow, and begin counting seconds until I hit 60. This will be an all-night cumdump session, so it gets the full deep-cleaning. I’ll feel the water invading me, filling me, taking over my entire abdomen. There’s nowhere water doesn’t reach, no place off-limits to it, and it takes advantage. Soon a sick ache commences - I’m not supposed to be full of water. My body knows it, and doesn’t like it. It wants to get rid of it, but can’t get it all out at once no matter what it does. I’ll sit at the toilet and try to expel it, and get some relief as most of it comes back out, washing out unwanted matter, but I can feel there’s some left deep inside me. I’ll bend and twist and elevate my legs, and wait, wait, wait…and finally reach a point where I feel like most of it is out. Then I’ll get back in the shower, and di it again. 50 seconds. Same miserable procedure. I have to, because, as the outflow from the second wash proves, the first wasn’t enough. Once that’s out…I’ll do it again. 40 seconds of invading water, followed by many minutes of water torture as the water drags at the insides of me, trying to pull them out along with it. Then I’ll do it again. 30 seconds. I’ll be feeling pretty waterlogged by now, and my cunt will have begun getting sore. This is the frustration stage, when I keep hoping the escaping water will run clear, and it does - until some inner dam breaks an out comes another reservoir of darkness that hadn’t yet made it out. Depending on how clean I am by this point, I may have to go another fill of 30 seconds, or drop to 20. If 20, I’ll be in rinsing territory, and approaching the end. When I can do quick rinses of 15, 10 and 5 seconds, I know there’s nothing left inside me. I’ll be feeling weak, and sodden, and literally drained. All for the sake of some Tops who may or may not decide they want to fuck tonight. Some people do enemas for fun, for play. Even though the experience I describe above is anything but pleasant or desirable, I also recognize a certain sensation that comes with the feeling of water filling me involuntarily. I’m being forced to take it - literally - by the force of water. If someone else were applying it, there would be a different sense of coercion, but the water itself dominates. Why, though, is that erotic in itself? It’s harder to pin down. I wonder, though, as I feel my belly swell with its introduced contents, whether I experience a momentary sense of impregnation, and a sense of birthing - a breaking of waters - with each expulsion. And in the case of the routine I’m about to follow, repeated impregnation and birthing several times over the course of a couple of hours. There are limits to the analogy, of course (the discomfort is hardly that of giving birth, and possibly not as bad as morning sickness) but it’s certainly exhausting. It’s about time to get started, whether I like it or not. I’m on duty tonight in Nashville.

Name a product that you would buy off the store shelf if you saw that it was past its expiration date. …. still waiting … Exactly. ‘Expired’ in the case of medicine can generally be taken to mean ‘no longer fully effective’ at best, or potentially has begun to break down into other compounds. Using PrEP that is no longer fully effective means increasing your chance of contracting HIV, or of exposing the HIV virus to a weakened drug that may allow it to survive and build tolerance. Play Russian roulette much? The longer the med is out of expiry, the more bullets you put in the revolver.

Choosing a good piercer makes a difference, and experience is important. Mine was trained by a yogi in India. I went back to her for my guiche as well, and she didn’t just pick a spot on my taint and jab a needle - she had a method for ermaking sure she got the right spot. She took a swab and poked along the line of my perineum until she hit a spot that made my anus contract involuntarily. ”There it is,” she said, and marked it with a pen. That’s where she put the guiche, where it would trigger when touched. She’s a professional. Now, even a pro can’t make your body accept it really doesn’t like - she did my nipples also, and my nipples did not take to being pierced at all, never healed properly, and I finally had to take the hardware out and let them close. When she examined them afterward, with an experienced eye, she said, “Yeah, I could redo them, but it probably wouldn’t do any good - some just don’t take to it.” Pity. I liked them that way. If you do go for an ampallang or an apadravya, be very, very sure. Both are a serious commitment. They can take up to a year to fully heal, and are not for the impatient, or anyone looking for ‘quick and easy’. If you’re planning on Topping with one, it’s going to set your fucking schedule back considerably.

Yes, it means you are not ‘straight’, as far as that label describes an exclusive sexual orientation. But not to worry - almost no one actually is. Scientific research on human sexuality since the 1970s has fairly conclusively established that human sexual orientation is not a set of polar opposites, but rather a continuous spectrum, with all persons having some greater or lesser degree of same-sex affinity, which is influenced additionally by cultural factors. In other words, under certain circumstances, most people might find themselves naturally attracted at least in some small way to a person of the same gender. That doesn’t suddenly mean they can no longer have a heterosexual relationship. Many people are perfectly happy to consider themselves bisexual. (There are some gays who insist that anyone who says he’s bi is just in denial about his gayness, but as a bisexual person I assure you that is untrue. I have taken more than a thousand cocks up my ass, but I like ladies just fine.) If you find women attractive, sexy and fuckable, then there is no reason it would be “too late”. The one consideration, however, is that unless you find a female partner who is agreeable to you also having sexual contact with men, you may have to make a choice between your desires. We face choices in our lives all the time when we must select one thing over another because we cannot have everything we want. You may have to choose if you cannot find a way to enjoy both. But discovering that you take pleasure in being fucked by men does not automatically close the door forever for you on a relationship with a woman. If I were to find just the right woman to be in my life (it would have to be a singularly remarkable person) then I could happily turn my back on sex with men. I wish you good fortune in your self-exploration.

I’m sure the degree to which a person’s piercing becomes ‘a part of him’ varies from person to person, and has much to do with the reason he got it to begin with. A piercing isn’t like a tattoo - they can be removed, and holes in flesh generally heal closed in time, so it’s easier to leave a piercing behind you than a tattoo you regret. I guess I’ve had my ampallang almost 15 years now, and can count the number of times the hardware’s been out on the fingers of one hand - and some of those were just to change up to another gauge. I didn’t get it as a novelty, or on a whim, or because I was horny, or impaired, or for sexual purpose; I chose it after consideration, for its symbology. The ampallang has its origins among the men of Borneo, who will wear a bone through the head a their cock as symbol of their ability to provide for a family, and I take my role as a father both seriously and as an honor. I will never remove my metal, because I will never stop protecting those I love. I have two earrings in my left ear that I have worn for just as long, and which also never come out - each represents one of my children. So, for me, my piercings are definitely a part of me. But for others, they may be nothing more than accessories, just a momentary flash of bling, or a decision made under the influence. They’re not for eveyone.

Not only do I not expel a load, I angle my ass upward and stay that way a while after the Top has gone to allow gravity to assist in its deeper reach into my body. Nothing comes out if I can help it. Except - if he has a particular body chemistry. For a very, very small number of Tops, I seem to have an allergic reaction to their cum. If it gets on my skin, it burns, and I guess inside me it’s such an irritant that it prompts a need to expel. But this is very rare. Personally, I very much share @Phallarchist’s view as stated above - expelling a Top’s load is not something that would occur to me, to do so in his presence would be unthinkable, and to so into a toilet while he is still present would be unforgivable. For a Top to select me for cunting when he has an ocean of ass to choose from is a high honor; to choose my cunt as the vessel to hold the essence that codes his personal being is the very highest. If I am worthy of it, I will do my utmost to keep it where he put it. If I had to guess why most bottoms who expel do it, it may be because A) They’re conflicted about their sexuality and after the act feel the need to rid themselves of their ‘guilt’; B) They mistakenly believe that immediately expelling the load will reduce or remove the risk of STD exposure; or C) The idea of having someone else’s bodily fluid inside them actually squicks them out, but is an unpleasant requirement for the pleasure of bareback fucking, so they just get rid of it as quickly as they can. The above speculation supposed the bottom expels into a toilet, and is not simply pushing the load out in situ in the presence of others. The latter case I would assume to be for the erotic rush of displaying that he has been loaded, or simply for consumption.

We do without, or we save up our money and travel the long distances when we can spare the time and can afford it. For me, CumUnion in Indianapolis was a godsend when it began, because it was within reach (at a 3-hour drive one-way), was held in a good bathhouse, and drew a mixed and active crowd. I ended two CumUnion trips there with 20+ loads in me. No longer. The action never recovered from the pandemic, which also saw a change in ownership of the bathhouse. The new owners seem to have decided to squeeze CumUnion for every penny they can get from it, hiking the entry fee to $30 for three hours, up from $20 for 5 hours previously - that’s a 250% increase in the price per hour, and that’s just to get in the door. It doesn’t include the room or locker. I’m not going back at that rate. They’re strangling their golden goose to death.

Lindsey Graham is a joke all by himself, and he would be no matter which side of the aisle he happened to be on.

I can’t speak to the comparison, but BBRTS has seemed to drop significantly in performance over the last three years, and I don’t blame that entirely on the pandemic. The site management seems to be doing its utmost to chase users away.

Never mind ethics - it’s illegal. A. Antibiotics are prescription medications. B. Giving someone prescription medication that was not prescribed for them is a violation of state and federal law in the United States. I imagine this is true in most other developed nations as well. What’s particularly vile about your question is that one gets the sense that your concern is less that your unknowing spouse remains healthy, and more that she doesn’t get an STD that you would have to explain while you’re fucking behind her back.

We read in the news today that a video recording has come to light of two men having sex, one of whom is a Senate aide. The boning in question, it seems, took place - and was therefore videoed in - a Senate hearing room. Location, location, location. The aide (no longer employed, as one might imagine) was an aide on the Democratic side of the aisle. The cleaning staff in the Capitol will need a mop to sop up all the drool as the other side salivates over this. It’s difficult to imagine - assuming even a tenth part of this is indeed factual - many ways that a gay man in Washington could undermine the efforts to achieve rights and recognition for the LGBT community more efficiently than do an amateur porn shoot in the Capitol building…especially considering the current speaker of the house. If they had done it in his office, at least they could have called it an act of protest, but this was just idiocy. The early reporting quotes the guy as saying he’s ‘under attack for who he loves’ - No, dipshit, you’re under attack for buttfucking in the Capitol Building, where it is Not Appropriate By Any Stretch Of The Imagination. There comes a point where risky sex is simply too risky.

A back door delivery, then?