ErosWired

And, here we go again. If you take the trouble to read through the previous topics posted in this forum, you will find other threads - many other threads - asking pretty much the same thing: Should a true/real/good/proper/legit cumdump take any and all loads? The question assumes two things: 1) That there is somewhere written a set of standards that either do or do not qualify one as a cumdump, and 2) That there is anyone designated as the authority to make such a judgment. Neither is true. But at least you’re straightforward, unlike some disingenuous questioners, in that you make it clear that you really just want to know how selective the guys who claim to be no-loads-refused cumdumps actually are. That is a much more tangible and legitimate question than “What should a true cumdump do?” So I’ll answer you. I do not turn any man away who requests the use of my cunt...as a matter of general practice. His race, age (provided he is of legal age), ethnicity, disability, socioeconomic status, weight, appearance, endowment, make no difference. I must, however, protect my ability to offer such service, and so if a man presents with plain symptoms of an STD, I will not knowingly expose myself to contagion that will harm my body and put me out of action, and potentially put other men at risk through me. If a man tells me that he has untreated HIV and has a high viral load, I will decline - I will not knowingly risk superinfection with another strain of the disease that’s trying to kill me. Otherwise, flesh is flesh, and I do not judge a man by the meat he’s wrapped in. I do, however, reserve the right to deny service to men who render themselves unfit for service. I will not knowingly permit myself to be used by a white supremacist, an antisemite, a misogynist, a racist, or any other such hater. I have no doubt that such men have bred me - I take a lot of anonymous cock - but I will give them no comfort if I am aware of it. How do I justify this? I will not deny my cunt to any man - but to my mind, such people are not men in any honorable sense. It is important to note here that I make no claim that my cunt is too good for those men - that is not the case. My hole is just that - a wet breeding-slit. It is by definition a devolution of a male’s body for him to submit to it being so used. Any fucking by any man at all is its right and proper use, and I don’t dispute it. But I take upon myself the duty to ensure that it is used responsibly, ethically, and to the greatest benefit of the most men possible. This isn’t, I feel sure, the kind of answer you were hoping for. It’s not the kind of answer that makes you want to rub one out. But I’m a cumdump who takes practically every cock offered, so that’s at least one answer to your question.

Oof. Yes, that would be an important detail. So on top of all the rest of it, this is someone you work with, in a professional field, who occupies at least for the time being a position of superiority over yours (as a trainee). And you’re contemplating how to get into this guy’s pants. Dude, this is such a potential minefield I don’t even like to think about it. If it goes pear-shaped (what does a heart turned upside-down roughly resemble? Now you’re getting it) you risk not just screwing up a friendship and/or someone else’s happy relationship, you also risk making things awkward in your workplace on a daily basis. And even if you did manage to connect with him, you’d still have a juggling act to perform to keep things from getting wonky at work. Not trying to be a heartstomper, but I see some red flags here.

The tenor of your question leads one to think that you are inclined toward making an attempt toward engaging this person in an intimate relationship. There are questions to consider: 1) If you discover that he is uninterested in same-sex relationships, can you be content with a simply platonic friendship in which your additional attractions and feelings are unrequited? 2) Are you prepared for the possibility that he may feel uncomfortable at learning of your feelings for him, and break off even platonic friendship? Is the risk of losing the friendship worth the possibility of the relationship? 3) The man is cohabitating with a girlfriend, which suggests an ongoing compatible relationship between them. Do your feelings toward this man entitle you to potentially drive a wedge between an otherwise happy couple and disrupt the relationship they have found with each other? If they were married, your intention would clearly be unethical, but in this circumstance, since modern terms of commitment are less circumscribed, the question must be carefully considered: Is he actually available to you in any honorable way? I can tell you, as someone who watched another man walk in and make advances to his spouse, that it’s a shitty thing to do. It seems to me you have a lot of things to consider over a guy who you don’t even know is gay. I would think your wisest course would be to back-burner any thoughts of intimacy and simply cultivate a friendship. If something more is meant to develop, it will likely do so on its own in time without the need to force the issue.

I would write a response to this but I’m having trouble typing - when I read it my eyes rolled so hard they popped out of their sockets and rolled away under the table. 🙄 Are you going NoNutNovember? No, I’m doing NonstopNutNovember for charity. For charity? Yeah, at the end I’m taking it all to a sperm bank.

@Lustofalltrades - I’m afraid the scenario you lay out is almost certainly never going to happen. Getting multiple strangers to hook up at once is tricky enough. Getting them to meet at one location and then all shift to a hotel would be expecting a bit much. Getting them to all submit to an HIV/STD screening and get the results so you can fuck anyone uninfected on the same day? Pure fantasy. The absolute fastest turnaround on an STD test kit is 24 hours, and for most you’ll wait 2-5 days for the results. The fact that you’ve posted this absurd notion as a plan suggests that you’ve never actually had such a test yourself, or you would know that you can’t get instant results. You say that you have “hard-core” fantasies and that the acts you want to perform are “raw and extreme”. The good news, for you, is that nothing you talk about doing in your post is, at least by the standards common to this forum, either hard-core or extreme. You want to perform fellatio, fuck bareback, and eat ass/rim/felch. These are the basic sexual acts everyone performs. Indeed, if you did not do one or more of these things, one would be hard-pressed to call it sex. You should have no difficulty finding partners to perform these things with you provided you can find partners. But that itself may prove difficult if you erect insurmountable barriers out of fear of disease. This is the plain truth, so heed it well: You cannot enjoy bareback sex without risk. Period. There will always be some risk, however slight, of the transmission of disease. You can - and should - take sensible steps to mitigate those risks, but no measure is foolproof. You cannot fly unless you’re willing to risk falling to earth - It’s as simple as that. Now, even if your luck is terrible and you do catch something, all is not lost. I am a living example of a worst-case scenario in which I caught HIV, it went undiscovered until it had progressed to AIDS and destroyed my immune system, and I almost died. It’s now seven years later and I’ve survived, am healthy, and am sexually (over)active. So dispense with these foolish ideas that you can live a life of wild sexual abandon in perfect safety with well-organized and meticulously planned group meetups. Instead, get on PrEP, get immunized for the STDs for which vaccines are are available, resolve yourself to get tested regularly and treated when necessary, and then go out and actually do those things you dream about doing. They may not be particularly hard-core, but I suspect that by the time you actually do them a few times, you may decide you’re ready for something that is.

Indeed, and most even make you pay for the privilege by setting in-depth filtering as a premium service, thus making it seem even more as though you’ll be gaining easier access to your choice of men. I never take the bait, because where I am, there’s no point - refining your search quickly refines it down to nobody. Most of the time, the information that tells the whole story can be found in a cursory look at the GeoLocator on BBRTS, or at the map on Sniffies - when the cock is thin on the ground, widely dispersed, and none of it within 50 miles of me, filtering by cock size or anything else is pointless.

I confess that I, also, find obesity an unpleasant feature, and I do not enjoy servicing men who are morbidly overweight. But my duty is clear-cut; if a man wants my holes, they are his. My personal pleasure or displeasure is immaterial, and I can be quite harsh with myself if I realize that I am not doing my best for a man because of his physical form. To my mind, it is perhaps even more crucial that I serve such a man than a man of admirable physique, because the man who lives within that overweight body likely also suffers from a deficit of physical contact and sexual expression - I may be his best chance at getting something every human being needs. That, essentially, is why I believe I was made this way, to do this thing - to provide an opportunity for men who have a deep need they find it difficult or impossible to meet. That’s why I turn no one away, not because it makes me feel slutty, but because the next man may need me desperately. My experience tells me that sometimes they do - most often, I find that if I apply my tongue to an obese man’s cock, he’ll coat it with cum in very short order. I have serviced the old, the disabled, the misshapen, the timid, the deeply hurt, the deeply confused, the lost. I take them inside the warmth of my body and make them the center of the Universe for a brief time, and do my best to show them that they are human, and they are men. Some of them benefit from this; some of them get no more than they would from shagging any random hole, and that’s fine. That’s also a big part of my purpose, to satisfy men’s incidental need as often as I can. Yet you never know how deeply a man is affected by his encounter - an aggressive, Dominant Top who generally has no difficulty finding ass when he wishes may choose me to breed, and I may find in the course of that breeding that I am able to help him draw more deeply from the well of his primal instinct and connect with something that fulfills him beyond his expectation. If the process leaves me battered, wet, sticky and half-conscious, it only proves that I was the proper instrument for the task.

In fact, I do normally put on my service collar when I go, for instance, to a bathhouse (a nice solid metal band chrome collar doesn’t rust or get moldy from the steam) to signal that I am a submissive, and that I have a duty to serve. I don’t think, however, that it has ever made me look “butch” in any sense of the word. I have found, as I have always been self-collared, that that also means self-disciplined, and responsible for myself in the world. No one has ever taken care of me; I learned long ago how to take care of myself and see that my own needs are met as well as I can. For those who wonder how I have managed to gain such a varied sexual experience and tally up such a record of breedings, it’s because life forces me to be proactive - if I take no initiative, I get nothing. I am alone; no one touches me; if I am ever to feel the touch of another human being, I have to be the one who reaches out. At the bathhouse, my ass may be excellent inside, but outside my body is unremarkable at best, and I have to find a way to at least make others aware that I exist. A bright band of silver in a sea of flesh does that. It is a utility, and a necessity, as much as it is a statement of duty. But it is never a statement of fashion. Frankly, I have no idea what men think of me when they see me walk around with it on, but it doesn’t seem to repel them. (Some of them even find it useful as a grip for leverage.) No doubt some of them see it and draw the sort of mistaken conclusion you describe - I’m certainly used to being misunderstood, but regardless, at least they noticed me, which is better than being invisible.

@hntnhole - My former Master was not perhaps ‘high-minded’ in the sense that he was trying to help me move beyond some perceived limitation, nor was he, in the strictest sense, driven by a pleasure taken in manipulation. The work he did with me was a matter of experimental inquiry, to determine the extent to which a man could be trained to accept a submissive sexual role to other men and the extent to which that role could be psychologically embedded. He was also interested in the boundary between the threshold of pleasure and pain, and how orgasm was tied to both. You imply that he owed it to me that I end the process in a particular state, but that is not the nature of the kind of experimental inquiry in which he was engaged, and in which I was an informed and active participant. Had he and I been in a traditional Dominant/submissive relationship, it might be that he would have had some responsibility toward me, but although many Dominants have used me, none had ever collared me for himself, and I did not see this as such a situation. When he finished his experiment after six years, he released me, and I remained as self-collared as I had been before, only now altered by his work. It isn’t that he left me somehow susceptible to inappropriate advances that could be somehow filtered out; rather, what I face is inherent to being self-collared. In an ideal world, a cunt like me trained to accept any cock would be utilized by a Dominant who took pleasure in being the one deciding which cocks those would be. But I’ve never had that. I’m responsible for myself, and it’s not my place to choose the cocks that fuck me, but to merely make it possible for them to find my cunt. That leaves me necessarily vulnerable. When I say I want Tops to take everything, though, I’m not masochistically saying I want to be trampled and taken advantage of. What I mean is that I want every Top to have complete, unfettered access to the deepest, most intimate part of my physical and sexual nature that he desires to satisfy his personal need. My former Master helped me begin to unlock an ability to access this deep sexual reservoir for others to reach into by exposing the deepest core of my orgasm for anyone to play with at a whim. Perhaps it’s true that I have been left acutely vulnerable to predation, but on the other hand, I feel deeply that my best purpose is to fulfill someone aggressive and Dominant. The only way I could be confident that I could fill the role I now accept as mine without ever worrying about ending up in a bad situation would be to find a Dominant who wanted to actually make full use of me. Even a man simply whoring me out would be a more controlled situation. But at my age, I think the possibility of realizing any ideal scenario is vanishingly remote, and I will simply have to look after myself as best I can. I do not, however, regret the change made in me. It is better to know myself and be driven by purpose - even if that purpose is to cunt myself for every other man - than to wander in confusion and doubt.

It depends on whether you told the sub you would come fuck him in ten hours. Once upon a time, a man’s word meant something. A man was judged by whether he would do what he said he would do. That’s important, because other people invest their valuable time, energy, resources and opportunities based on trust in a man says. But when people can no longer trust that any man will do what he says he will do, communal interaction based on trust ceases to function, and society erodes. If you’re a man of honor, and you told the bottom you would fuck him in ten hours, either keep your word or explain yourself. If you’re not willing to keep your word, don’t offer the fuck.

I hotel hosted last night. I hadn’t really planned to, but I was in my old hometown where I grew up, hadn’t been there in 25 years, was at loose ends in the evening, so, what the hell. Friday night, not a very big town, but bigger than a village, so you never know. I had been gone so long I wouldn’t know anyone local and have no plans to ever come back anyway, so why not do my anal duty? I got a hit - a young guy, he had nibbled the day before, but was biting now, and had a friend. Could they both come? Absolutely. So while I’m waiting for them I get another hit. A guy a little older, mid-30s, wants to fuck, only about a mile off. Can he come right now? Right Now is excellent. I always prefer guys who want it without delay - less chance of flakery. Sure, come and get it. [Short pause] You’re really close, can you come pick me up? I’ll treat you so good. Goddamn it. No, I don’t provide transportation, only ass. Sorry. [After a bit] You’re close enough I can walk, address? I give him the address. Then I chance to click on his profile and read “I don’t have anywhere to stay, if you can help me out I’d really appreciate it” Goddamn it. Wait a minute. I just read your profile. I’m offering you a fuck, not a place to stay. You come in, you fuck, you leave. That’s how this works. You cannot stay here. [Long pause] Understand Whew. Bullet dodged. In come the first two guys. Both very overweight, shall we say “lightly washed” in the groin area, and soft. They both fling themselves down on their backs on the bed, classic pose of lazy Tops expecting head. Goddamn it. Guy 1 is a young Man Of Color with a BBmicropenis. The other, a young latinx dude with button-like proportions which thankfully turned out to be of the ‘grower’ variety...but somewhat pungent in a way that may arouse some followers of these forums. Myself, not so much. Nonetheless, my duty was plain, and my training compelled it. I had them both hard within about five minutes. Guy 1 gets up and moves behind to mount me. There is a pause, marked by crinkled rustling. He’s getting out a condom and putting it on. Goddamn it. He has, to be fair, a rock-hard 3-1/2 inches, so I definitely feel it. He thrusts a few times, pushes my head down on his friend’s cock a few times, pulls out, crinkle-rustle, puts on another condom, thrusts a little more, then reassumes the position. He motions for his friend to get up. ”Both of the condoms broke, though,” he said. He broke...two...condoms...in a row... with a few jabs from his shortstick? The friend seemed hesitant, so I explained U=U, my status, reassured that he did not have to do anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. He decided to fuck, but fumbled around my hole until he went soft. I sucked him back to life and he fucked me for a couple of disinterested minutes before returning to the position. I make it a point when working with multiple men at once to make sure my service is equally distributed, so I next applied tongue to Guy 1 again, and in pretty short order he whitewashed my tongue. I swallowed and went back to his friend, hoping to finish off the episode quickly. Twenty minutes later my jaw locks up and he shows no sign of being close. In fact, he’s been basically expressionless the entire time, giving me nothing to guide me. He says, Do you like to ride? And gestures at his cock. Lazy. Top. He lies there like a beached manatee, doesn’t even help guide himself into my hole, and I do my best to ride him, but his heft prevents me from really getting any leverage on his pelvis so I don’t know if I’m doing much of anything except keeping him inside me. At a point where I’m doing a desperation move with my back arched backward, my hands gripping his ankles and my ass pistoning back and forth rapidly to try to score some angular friction, out of the side of my eye I see the door to the room open. In comes a guy with a rucksack and a guitar. He goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. It’s obviously the guy with no place to stay. Goddamn it. Guy 2’s cock slides out of me; he’s ready to stop. No expression; I have no idea whether he enjoyed using my body or not. They get dressed to go, and Guy 1 comes up, thanks me for a good time, gives me a hug, and mutters in my ear, “I’ve seen him around. He’s a little crazy. Be careful.” They depart, leaving me buck naked in a hotel room with God Knows What. Momentarily, God Knows What (hereafter GKW) finishes his business and emerges from the bathroom in his underwear, blue and shivering. He has clearly been walking around outdoors for quite some time in the near-freezing weather. For God’s Sake. I ask him if he would like to take a warm shower to warm himself up. He says that would be very nice. I start his water, get him a towel, and leave him to his (lengthy) shower. As I wait, I put on some clothes. The last thing this guy needs is to be spending his energy fucking me if he’s on the street. I check to see where the local shelter is located; I can’t let this stranger stay in my hotel room, but I can warm him up, make sure he has something to eat, and offer to take him somewhere where he can be out of the cold. Guy 1 messages me and asks how things are going. I tell him what I’m doing, he says, “Aww, you’re nice.” I don’t know about nice; I was a park ranger, and this is practical. The guy comes out, looks better but still a little pale, I offer to make him a cup od warm coffee. Yes, please. Sugars? Three. Cream? Two. I make the coffee in the bathroom. When it’s done, I emerge to find GDW talking on his headset phone with what appears to be the boyfriend whose car he lately got out of and walked away from because his boyfriend was entertaining a pair of drug dealers and GKW didn’t want to be around them for fear of being caught up in some sort of police sting. I listened to him unroll the panoply of his convoluted drama, complete with broad hand gestures the boyfriend couldn’t see, for about five minutes, before I said, rather pointedly, “You’re going to have to call him back.” After a minute he wound up the call and I asked if he has had anything to eat; he had had something in the afternoon. I explained that as I had told him, he couldn’t stay here, but I would be glad to drive him to the local shelter or anywhere he needed to go. ”Oh, I never go to shelters.” Well. I suggested that if he felt he was too good for a shelter when he had no other place to go, it was best he just be on his way. And, then, of course, he flips out. I am now bullying and abusing him - how dare I - just because he’s having a problem doesn’t mean I have a right to push him around. Then he fires off : ”I have Asperger’s!” Indeed? ”I have Asperger’s.” This catches him up a bit; he wasn’t expecting that. ”So... so you understand!” ”I most certainly do. I’ve struggled with Asperger’s for well over 35 years.” ”Well I’m 37!” ”So basically I’ve been dealing with it as long as you’ve been alive.” I suspect that this line of attack has worked out very differently for him previously, and he’s learned to use his autism as a means to manipulate people. With me, it’s like oil on Teflon. He falls back to abusive language. I tell he’s going to have to leave the room immediately, and if he doesn’t I will be forced to call for the police. ”Who do you think brought me here?” he said. “If you touch my stuff I’ll call them myself.” I picked up his bag and his guitar and set them by the door. I went over to the phone by the bed an picked up the receiver. He quickly started putting on his clothes. I paused. ”Are you afraid to call them?” he said “How will you save face?” ”I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about me doing this.” He quickly finished dressing, picked up his headset, called someone and said, “Can you come pick me up? Can - Can you please - just come pick me up?” (Note that apparently the person he was talking to already knew where he was.) Then he hesitated, drank half the cup of coffee that I had made him in a couple of gulps, told me what a fucking asshole I was, and left. I mean. Goddamn it. The thing is, I know better. Of course I have better sense than this. The trouble is that one Biblical account of angels disguised as travelers who seek shelter, and we are instructed never to refuse shelter to one in need because you never know. (The practical application of the scripture being to encourage mutual social support.) Add to this a 30-year career as a park ranger, for whom the sight of a person who walks in chilled from exposure to the elements triggers an almost visceral response. Still, I had the presence of mind to decide, first thing, that 1) letting him fuck me was out of the question; 2) I needed to put on some clothes; and 3) I needed to put my self-defense weapon where I could easily reach it. He never knew it was there, but it was there. By this point I was not only ready to call it a night, I didn’t care if I never saw that godforsaken town again. Thirty minutes later, as I was preparing to close up shop completely and go to bed, I got a Grindr hit asking for an anon quickie right now. Goddamn it. You see, I know I keep saying it, and I don’t expect that any of you actually believe me because it just sounds too much like a fantasy, but when a Top asks me for my ass, I feel psychologically compelled to obey. A man used actual techniques to train me to react this way. So I agreed to take one more fuck. As it turned out, one more absolutely, toe-curlingly delicious fuck by a young guy with superb thighs. He wanted me missionary and I’m so glad he did - the bliss spread across his face in waves as he slicked in and out of my hot cunt, and when he finally shot what I later discovered was a huge load deep inside me, the smile on his face as he came in one instant made up for everything that had happened before. So, what is the moral of this tale? I’m not really sure. I want to be able to continue to place my trust in the essential good nature of people; I’m a trusting soul to start with, but if I’m going to achieve my goal of giving Tops the ability to take absolutely anything they want from me, I have to not only remain intimately vulnerable, but become radically more so. When I returned home this evening after a 5- hour drive, the moment I walked in the door I got a message on A4A: Did I want to fuck now? I let the guy know I had just gotten in and that it would take some time to prep myself, and he could probably find another willing bottom in the time it would take me to prep. I said I would, however, go ahead and begin to prep myself in case he didn’t find anyone, because he should not have to go without ass if I could prevent it. ”Thanks,” he replied. Then: ”Could you come pick me up for a while? You’re not far away.” Goddamn it.

“Cold feet” is not a defense for cowardice, inconsiderateness, thoughtlessness, and incivility. It’s just one of the possible motivators that triggers these despicable behaviors. Besides, if a man’s going to negotiate a fuck with another man, he needs to fucking grow a pair first. Getting cold feet in no way precludes a man from responsibly contacting the other guy and calling it off before he wastes his time, money, and/or any alternative opportunity he might have had to have sex. The Flake robs the guy of those things, and can’t ever be held to account - that’s what makes flaking so vile and wretched. And no system for reporting Flake behavior will work because it would be instantly abused by petty people trying to anonymously harm other people’s reputations - and not pay any price for that - which shows, I think, that online communication in this fashion is proving to be a fatally flawed system simply because of the way it amplifies the worst aspects of human nature. Talk about bringing out the worst aspects of human nature - And if we’re the pigs... look what happened to Piggy. Just sayin’.

@hntnhole - In my case it wasn’t the hole - the foreskin had adhered or fused to the glans in some abnormal way, and incision was the only workable solution. Obviously not a common problem.

It still is a health-related procedure for certain conditions. In my case, the foreskin had apparently adhered too high upward and could not be properly retracted. I don’t know to what degree the hygiene issue was a concern, but I remember there being a concern that something wouldn’t grow correctly or would be misshapen if the procedure wasn’t performed.

When I’ve gotten an STD it’s always been in the ass. Can’t imagine why...

I didn’t mean to address the comment to your case specifically, only to expand on the other poster’s comment about the doctor drawing a conclusion of negativity from whether a treatment worked. I have previously had a case of gono that did not respond to first-line treatment, but my doctor didn’t draw a conclusion on the basis of that that I didn’t have gono.

Not necessarily. Just because the shot didn’t clear it doesn’t mean it wasn’t gonorrhea; it only means it wasn’t gonorrhea susceptible to the medication. Resistant strains of gonorrhea are becoming more common and may not respond to a standard round of medication.

According to a report in The Washington Post, the World Health Organization estimates the circumcision rate in the United States in 2020 at somewhere between 76% and 92%. This is much higher than in Western Europe. In the U.S., at least, one could hardly use whether a guy’s cock is cut as a clue to his ethnicity - it’s simply too ubiquitous a practice.

There is no scientific evidence that masturbation is in any way harmful. Anything done to excess has the potential to bring adverse effects, but normal masturbation hurts nothing. The shaming of human sexuality by some societies or parts of societies is a complex subject with deep roots intertwined in power, control, religion and public health, and cannot adequately be sorted through here. Suffice it to say that any attempt to control a population by telling them sex is wrong can only result in creating a population that feels guilt - they’re going to do it anyway, because they must. It is a basic human need.

By this I assume you are referring to the accounts given by members of their own experiences of being used sexually by adults when they were minors, and their claims that it was a positive formative experience for them or that they enjoyed it. It is difficult to know whether these accounts are all genuine, but if they are, the recounting of them is legitimate. Your or my sensibilities have no bearing on the validity of their lived experience.

I find this too, really quite often when hotel hosting. Men just up and say they don’t like groups. To some degree they may be covering for a need or desire for discretion, but the result is the same. Then, annoyingly, are the Tops who hit you up but say they’re not interested unless you do have a group lined up - and some will go as far as specifying how many. I just tell them to bring as many as they want and I’ll service them all... but they practically never do. That’s another good point - I think there’s sometimes a delicate balancing act bottoms have to do when trying to entice a Top in for a hookup. Get him a little too excited and he may pop his cork before he ever gets out the door.

I forgot to mention this previously - an alternative to trainers/sneakers or a good pair of fuck-me boots is a pair of river shoes. They’re the kind of light, flexible-soled shoe worn for boating, canoeing or rafting. They have tread on the sole designed for traction on slick river rocks, and that can be handy if you’re trying to keep your footing on a hard, cum-slicked floor somewhere. Especially useful at bathhouses. They’re probably not as sexy to look at as fuck-me boots, but they’re an option. (Me, I’m a country boy and go barefoot whenever possible; Tops like it when they can see it when they make my toes curl. 🙂 )

Better make it $30. You might have to tip the cabbie a little extra to convince him to take you wearing nothing but your socks. 😉

@BootmanLA - Your math makes sense (though I’d say the run of various unscientific polls on here might put your 70% closer to 66%, but we’ll err on the bottom side of vers) but the analysis sort of assumes that all these bottoms are making an equal effort to access the available Tops. They’re not. For every active bottom you find ass-up in a bathhouse, how many are just wandering around the halls looking (or posing) but not taking the initiative? How many are at a bar instead, fully clothed, looking for Mr. Perfect? How many are at home with their pants off behind a glowing screen trolling the apps with a blank, faceless profile, and wondering why they can’t get a Top to magically come find them where they are and fulfill all their fantasies without them ever having to take their eyes off the screen? Answer: A lot of them. I think you’re absolutely right that there is simply too much gay ass in want of fucking for the limited number of Tops to service them all even if they felt so inclined. But if the algebra is as simple as Tops being spread too thin, how does that explain gangbangs? How does that account for the fact that I can host my anonymous ass in a hotel at town that can barely call itself a city and average five Tops a night - and all of them leave their load? What that tells me is that the bottoms may exist in the community, but a sizable percentage of the ones bitching about not being able to get fucked aren’t actually trying. Or if they are, they aren’t doing anything to make themselves stand out in the endless sea of ass. Tops are still fucking. Of course they are. Why? Ask any Top - because there’s nothing else that compares to the feeling of cumming inside someone else. They’re never, ever going to stop. Have they cut back? Sure. COVID is scary, and it’s changed the game a bit. I’ve certainly noticed the difference. I also noticed how it felt in July in Atlanta when three huge cocks in a row each spent an hour reaming my cunt. I wonder, though, if a site like Breedingzone leaves some readers with a false impression of what life is really like out in the sexual world. If a person were to believe everything posted on these threads, he would come away with the idea that the site is populated almost entirely by sexual athletes who take multiple partners with oversized endowments on a nearly daily basis. But we know that so much fantasy is offered up as testimonial that it’s difficult to know when someone’s actually telling the truth. Case in point: I really did take three Tops, one right after the other, in Atlanta in July, for about an hour each, and each of them had an unusually large penis. But such a telling is unlikely to be taken seriously when every third post is about somebody getting DP’d with 9-inch cocks. So if someone spends much time here reading about the exploits of the members and assumes that they represent a reality in which everyone else is getting his hole filled, the reader can only wonder why it’s not happening for him - maybe all the Tops around him have just stopped fucking?

This bears emphasizing. If there are two men there and one is clearly in a Dominant role over the other, you would be well advised not to even speak to the submissive unless you first speak to the Dom. If you don’t, the submissive may act as though you hadn’t addressed him (he may not be permitted to speak to others and could be sanctioned) and you could insult the Dom. If you see a guy wearing a collar, assume he belongs to somebody unless he makes it clear he’s public property. Like I do. 🙂 Alphas, also, may be possessive and territorial. If there are Alpha Tops present, pay attention to see if they seem to be keeping a certain bottom within reach or limiting his movements. These things are not likely to be an issue at the average mixed-flavor gathering, but I’ve seen enough go down to say that when it comes to men having sex with men, you never know what’s under the hood until you rev the engine.