leatherpunk16

I think "pig" is more of a state of mind. There's no one thing that makes one a pig, whether it be a fisting pig, or a poz pig, or a leather pig, or a pain pig. See? There's so many kinds! Some of us have multiple kinks, and can access those abilities as needed. Others focus solely on one thing, and do it well (or not, depending on their experience and actual ability). Imagine you are a piss pig. That's your thing. At a bathhouse, you meet another who describes himself as a pig - but he's a bondage pig. That's not in your skill set. And piss isn't his thing. So two pigs are not the same. Each person has their own skill set and interests, but in the example, it's not really a match. It's also a matter of how one identifies, even if others don't necessarily SEE it or see you as such. You may identify as woman, but if what most people see is a man, there's some perception playing into it, but also personal biases. A personal story: I competed in a leather contest in 2017, and someone who did not like me shouted at me during our class's group photo op on the first night. He said, "Wipe that fake smile off your face, you're not a real leatherman." I knew who it was and who it was directed at. I saw myself one way, and he disagreed. (He's also known for stirring up trouble and attacking titleholders who don't agree with his politics, but that's another tale.) That aside, there are many meanings of pig. How one chooses to live out their own interpretation is up to them. We can't tell each other, "Here's a list of things you need to do or accomplish to be considered a ______ pig." No one tells you that you are - you just ARE. And one can get better at the things they do. Some of us need more education and actual experience than others for whom the skills are innate. Does this make sense?

I think I would have practiced more solo stuff. I was isolated a lot in my youth and 20s, and never did more than jerk off except on rare occasions. It never occurred to me to drink my own piss. Or smear my own spunk on my face. Or put vegetables in my butt. Or even finger myself. I just didn't do those things, and certainly didn't think of trying them. The outlet for discovery just wasn't there, and I had no confidence, so it didn't happen. When I finally got to explore my sexuality in my 30s, I realized I had missed out on SO MUCH. If I had come out at 20 instead of 29, I might have got laid way more in college, and actually built some decent memories of the years. I think that's what I regret the most. Missed opportunity that I never knew was there.

Brian Bonds is particularly friendly. I met him only once or twice at conventions - usually IML - and it was no more than a passing acquaintance. Then he had a layover in Seattle in October 2020, and asked for a night to "just chill" on Twitter. One other guy (who I never met) and I answered his request, and I got together with him. We had talked about filming on a few occasions, and it looked like it might happen THIS time, so I spent nearly an hour getting cleaned out and ready for him. But he was dog tired when I got there. A full week on Fire Island, I think, and had little energy for the hassle of making a video. When I told him how much time I spent cleaning out, he must have felt guilty because the next thing I know, his tongue in my mouth and he's undoing my pants! He bent me over the bed, squeezed out some hotel lotion (terrible lube), and fucked me with what little stamina he had left. Then we spent the rest of the night talking and hanging out until he nearly fell asleep mid-sentence. I let him rest, and that was that. I'm more of a colleague, but it was nice to see someone I respected outside of a convention for a change.

Also, consider a third meaning: The porn star Sgt. Miles has two large scorpions on his chest. When I asked about them, he said he was former military, and it was a reference to tanks that he drove in one of the Iraqi wars. Had nothing to do with his status OR his astrology.

From personal experience, I can tell you that HungerFF has a noisy butthole that inflates like a balloon when he's getting fisted. Might rival Nate's.

When I first got to Washington, I was getting a LOT of ass. In the first three months, I had sex with at least seven guys. That's kind of a big number for me. But when the calendar changed to 2021, it all stopped. I didn't get lucky again until mid-April, and last year's numbers were low. Despite my best efforts, it just didn't happen. I found that a lot of guys who could have been partners did not meet my standards. If he's a drug user or just gross or a hassle, my interest drops to a nil. Also, trying to be a porn star and stick to other guys who are also performers narrows the list of possibilities considerably. Do I need to lower my standards? Because when I do, I have a bad time. I don't even find decent guys to date, and when I do, that's the only time I ever see them. So maybe I'm connection-driven, and sex is secondary. But for MY part, I have not found willing sex partners in the PNW. Not many. Unless I lower my standards or be a whore at the bathhouse (which I never go to).

This past spring, I dated someone. We had mostly good chemistry, and for the two weeks we spent together, we were excited about the possibilities. I helped him move into a new space at the start of May, but I had no idea it would be the last time I saw him. We had sex a few times during those two weeks, and it was really nice. He was on the rebound from his ex-husband, who had been stalking him. I tried to not let that come between us. That was his past, just like my dead husband is MY past. After getting all his stuff in there, we cooked dinner in his new place. His energy was electric, and we were doing great. It felt like love was growing. He hinted that he wanted to tell me something, but also wanted me to promise we'd fuck at least twice during the night. After the first fuck, I was pretty exhausted. Long day, plus a single fuck usually drains me completely. He asked me to do it again after we had a bit of rest, and said he *might* say something that will make me happy. In hindsight, I can see he pushed me into doing sex with him again when I was really too tired for it. But he teased me with this secret, and so I did it again. Midway through, he declares "I think I'm falling in love." A couple minutes later, I couldn't finish. I had no thrust power left, and my fumes were gone, too. We stopped. What happened next was not fun. I started to say that I had been through a lot of shit, but being with him was making me happy. But I didn't get to finish the thought. He blew up at me, saying I was very selfish and a total boner-killer, and he wanted to go in the bathroom and cry. He promptly kicked me out after calling a cab, and then ran off to Hawaii for a month without many words to me. Later he broke it off over a text. I let him know that it wasn't okay to be a Latino Mr Sheffield - telling me he loves me, and then taking it back. Cruel, and selfish. I have to wonder if his ex was really the crazy one. He used me. I was just his rebound guy, and he manipulated me into having sex with him. He wasn't even worth the effort I put into that. Honestly, my worst hookup in 2021.

Ah, I'm in Seattle proper. Had a lot of luck picking up guys when I got here at the end of 2020, but this year, it's dry. LOL, I made a joke. A notoriously moist city... is DRY!

I don't ask directly. In my experience, most guys volunteer this information without my asking. But if it wasn't previously discussed, or left ambiguous on their profile, I ask them a simple question. "How is your health these days?" This avoids any chance of accusation or implied accusation (in case they are sensitive about it), and it gets them to open up to me. No one has ever responded with "Why do you want to know?" or anything like that. When they reveal a poz status to me, they are quick to include "undetectable" and the length of time they've been using that term. It also tells me where their head is at on the issue. Did they chase, or was it an accident? Were they targeted? And the reaction that accompanies this, I find, is usually genuine. Also allows them to discuss any recent testing for other bugs. Why do I do this? So I can put it out of my mind, and focus on sex. And so I can decide for myself whether we continue. If a toxic man presents himself to me (he hasn't yet) and reveals himself as such, I think my next action will depend on whether I think he's worth the risk. It's hard to say exactly WHAT will happen next since I've no real experience in the situation, and whatever I say here might be completely different when that day comes. For now, it's a little risk assessment, and weighing my options. I think that's reasonable, and also fair to my partners.

One that is both perfectly appropriate and also totally INappropriate for fisting. I give you "Ten Thousand Fists" by Disturbed. A great track with a ton of testosterone in it, and the theme fits, but ... well, let's say there are few fisters who would not be laughing at the irony of the song.

Wow, I was in Chicago a lot during the last decade, and never had anything approaching this kind of holiday unless it was IML weekend. Good for you!

When I get around to making a gunge video that uses yellow slime, I intend to mix the powder with my own yellow concoction. Will need a LOT of it, or mix up the rest of it with water (as per the instructions).

And how do YOU feel about it? It's great that he wants to share that bond with you. But time works terrible changes, and you might not stay together. Perhaps you will come to resent him for infecting you. There's lots of ways this could go. Ultimately, it's about what YOU want.

Sure, and Jimmy Swaggart has enough money to cover his motel bill. 😄

When he slides in and you feel your insides expand. It's not as big as the toy you were plugged with earlier when you were prepping your hole for him, but the sensation is still a lot. And you feel his hips buck and begin to rock against yours. Then that moment when you've finally adjusted, and he's riding you harder. He sensed the shift inside you from a little discomfort to total pleasure, so he turned it up a notch. And you're having fun. The body begins to sweat, the hair gets mussed up, the spray-on tan begins to rub on the sheets. The sheets also feel moist from the lube slowly oozing out of your hole. And then he gets close to climax. His skin changes colour, and he becomes more vocal and animal. You beg for the load and both of you are almost screaming. And then he's pushed over the edge. All of these things. I love all these things. Hard to pick a favourite.

I was born in a time when AIDS was just emerging. But "gay" wasn't really accepted where I grew up, and being myself got me in trouble as a teen and young adult. So I was forced to remain in the closet until my very late 20s. Everyone knew, but we didn't discuss it, and I certainly wasn't "out and proud" about it. I didn't advertise it. Partly due to a lack of education, and partly due to avoiding trouble with peers and family. But some of my peers WERE out, some during high school or college, and I regret not following that and allowing myself to explore. Because I was safe there, I stayed and didn't allow myself to grow. I feel like I missed out on the best years of gay, but I know now that I did NOT. My "best years" didn't come until my mid 30s, and now I'm in a more liberal city where no one really cares if you're queer. Do I still go out and explore and enjoy? Not really. Damn Covid and inflation and massive debt kinda take away from such fun things.

I had an adventurous period when I was 30. I had been seeing my fuck buddies regularly and getting my carnal needs met, but I couldn't always see them. So I started hunting for sex in my own town. I was fucking guys, often unattractive guys, because that's what was available. The pretty ones weren't accessible, and I didn't know where to find them. I got guys on A4A or Craigslist or other means, and sometimes I had a good time. There was a lot of late-night driving to places in town that I didn't know, and weren't the safest at night. I got my balls emptied, sure, but seldom saw the same guy twice. I was hungry as fuck, and couldn't get enough. My promiscuity got curbed quite suddenly at the end of 2010. I picked up a cute boy from my gym, and had a good time when we fucked. A week later I had my first round of gono. It was miserable, and because of the Christmas season, I couldn't get to a doctor to treat it. Had to wait over a month before I was seen. Fucking public health care. After that, I calmed my tits and just stuck with my buddies, guys I knew. I think the only other time I was ever this horny on the regular was during IML 2019 where I fucked nearly 20 guys in one weekend. Didn't get any bugs that time, but it was certainly more fulfilling.

Yes, I neglected to finish my thought there. One doesn't get just one symptom of gono. You get them ALL. Itching could well be something else - dietary, hygiene, chlamydia, hemerrhoids, and so on.

Itching is just one sign. If you start having discharge, you're likely to know. Check your underwear in the mornings. If it's crusty like dried cum, you've definitely got it. If the pain makes you want to bury your dick in the snow, or slice it open and clean it out like one removes a shrimp vein -- that's your brain telling you that something ain't right. You mentioned being turned on by it, but also scared. Fear is normal. It's something new, and one has to process that information. What do YOU want to do? Does this continue to turn you on? If so, you might keep it for a while or share if you choose. If it hurts or burns and you can't tolerate it, then go to the doctor at once. They give you a shot (sometimes in the hip which hurts like a bitch), and often pills. That's usually the end of it. But if you don't like being bugged, definitely don't go back to him. He put you in danger, knowing full well what he had. That's not a nice thing to do unless you are a collector.

Hehehe, thanks! I'm a skilled fister, and men love my hands inside them. I WILL PROLAPSE YOU. lol

It's also blissful for the top. When we watch our limb(s) disappear inside a hole, it becomes quite entrancing. First the fingers, then the knuckles, then the whole hand, followed by the forearm, and then the elbow until one is shoulder-deep in some pig's rectum. And he has the nerve to beg for more?! So we go to doubles. Might not get as deep. Probably not because the bottom has to accomodate the extra width, and most (if not all) human bodies simply can't do shoulder-deep double fistings. We're just not built like that, plus it's a physical strain for the top who has ZERO wiggle room in there, and every inch of available space is demanding more of the inner walls of another body. But we feel it too. The tightness, the sensations, the thought that one is doing something really fucking disgusting and getting off on it. It's incredible. And addicting.

Steamworks has a bookstore?

I heard that RAM closed, possibly demolished. Which one do you go to now?

I used to top, and exclusively, so I feel at least partway qualified to put in my oar. For me, it was never about conquest or making a mark. It was about the bottom, and sharing an intimate connection. Or if he was just a random - like in a bathhouse or off Craigslist - it was about dropping a load, and being of service to an underserved community. Too many bottoms, not enough tops. Nowadays, on the rare occasions I get to top, it IS about making a mark. I can't really give him anything like a certain bug, since I haven't got it, but it's more about implanting a connection in his mind that I am who I say I am. And when the need to breed and seed comes to the surface, I give it all I've got. It's about giving him what he needs, and also what I need as a top. This is the guy I chose to share my sacred nectar with, and if I'm a good fuck, maybe he'll ask me back. And most of the time, if they have but few connections, they DO come back for more. That's a good feeling!