hntnhole

I'm not saying I endorse serious injury to the guy taking the pics, but I'd understand if he gets beaten to within an inch .....

Those days were heady ones for sure ... there was a bar in downtown Rock Island - can't recall the name - with a gh in the men's room that almost always had guys in the stalls sucking each other off. Come to think of it, I think the name was Hunters? Always "live" music, different genre's, great burgers, etc. Whatever the name, that was my initiation to the "gloryhole experience". And no, I don't even remember who the guy was, but I sure remember the event !!!

That's entirely enough for any guy - and no one gets to judge how we're wired. I don't mind mentioning that breeding a big-cocked bottom, on his back, with a really impressive Cock bouncing around on his belly is totally hot. Every guy gets to decide what's hot for him, and that's the end of the conversation. Years ago, there were a handful of guys that thought I possessed a mildly-hot ass - and not one of them ever found out whether it was true or not. My other half thought so - and he only got it on his birthday.

Agreed. For some reason, Black guys seem to either not have been raised with a big bag of cultural bullshit, or have managed to shrug it off early in life. Lots of Black guys just exude a certain sexual magnetism or something ... and they know how to take care of business without any of the reticence many non-Black guys carry.

So here in the greater Ft. Lauderdale area, the city of Wilton Manors is the "hub" of the gay universe around here. There's a local grocery store chain called Publix here in the area, and a fairly smallish Publix store at "5 points" , the convergence of streets that delineates the north end of Wilton Manors. Thus, it's quite popular with all the gay guys in the area, since it's close to home and it's full of gay guys all the time. The chances of running into a guy you've fucked in one of the fuckjoints is excellent. It would be odd if one didn't (assuming you saw the guy's face, not just his cumhole). It's the same (to a lesser extent though) at the Homo Depot, and any/all of the businesses on Wilton Drive. Even the employees (that aren't gay) are friendly, well-versed in cruisy language. In a business sense, they'd have to be, since such a preponderance of their customer-base fucks raw hole and sucks off cocks. Sometimes right in the john !!!

Correct. What counts at Pig Week, is your "piggish quotient" - or, how craven are your lusts? The action is truly shameless, and it's a really joyful celebration as well. Some of the other bars are "piggy-backing" on the event and there's nothing wrong with that, at least as I see it. There are all types of guys (particularly Leathermen) and everyone fucks everyone. Any guy that doesn't have a good time during Pig Week, just isn't trying. If a guy needs accommodations, I'd suggest Inn Leather, down on the South side of Ft. L. There are slings in every room, guys give/take loads everywhere on the premises (yes - in the pool too), and it's far more reasonable price-wise than some of the "guilded lilies" in Wilton Manors. You'd probably want a rental car though ....

Any location in Europe works great for me. My forebears are from the Norse countries, and once I "moved" there, it's been smooth as a bucket of lube ....

HAHAHAHAHA ...... I wish ALL the problems we face these days were that easy to deal with ....

Hell NO. But a man has to need a lot of drrrrrty hot raw sex in a crowded setting ... don't plan on a lot of easy parking though. Be sure to check the weather reports too. Think of many of the men attending as Santa's without the red clothes or the bag of presents.

That remind me; When I lived in Chicago and used the apps, there was an old motor-lodge type "no-tell-mo-tel" on the south side of Ridge Ave, just West of Clark St, in the 48th Ward. I think it was the "Heart of Chicago" - dating from before the interstates were even built. There were always listings of bottoms being whored out by their Masters/lovers/boy-frends/whatevers, and we went over there quite regularly to fuck guys. It wasn't all that far, I don't recall it costing anything, and there were usually plenty of guys milling around. And, if the 'whored-out-boy' was <polite cough> "busy", you could fuck any other guy that didn't want to wait their turn either. There always seemed to be more guys in there than the parking lot would suggest - maybe there was a "car-pool" arrangement - idk .... but it was always a lot of fun.

It seems an interesting - if ancillary - point has been proven true in this thread .... That being, experience COUNTS !!! 😉

I think every municipality of decent size had at least one of these Wrinkle-Room's. There was one down the block when we lived in Andersonville in Chicago. One of the other tenants was a Danish man in his 70's - worked as a travel agent downtown - and "lived" at that bar for number of years. We went up there at his invitation a number of times. Great fun.

To the OP though - since this is a survey - I can't say I ask for ages in the fuckjoints. I don't see that as my job; that's for the guys at the entrance to the place to deal with. Almost any age guy can be fuckable, and no particular age automatically bestows "fuckability". Besides - in the darkrooms, no one gives a rats ass, since no one can see the other guys giving/taking loads.

One of the unsurprising results of a younger guy coming to terms with who he really is, and what he really wants sexually, is a propensity to look down his nose at others, as if it were them that had "caused" his inclinations. Fortunately though, that seldom lasts longer than a month or three, as he gets acclimated to who he is and what he needs sexually. Occasionally I hear something negative about "older guys" in the fuckjoints, but I just slough it off as nothing more than an ill-considered comment he most likely will regret one day, when he realizes that experience counts !!!

Isn't that a little bit contradictory? If you're always horny , that's not merely a "good" thing, that's a fantastic thing !!! More bottoms for you to keep happy !!!

This may be a silly question, but ....... If a guy lives in State A, but has a vpn saying he lives in State B (where there are no "blockers"), will the "blockers" (or whatever they're called) know the difference?

Chicago was home to the Bijou Theatre, which was on Wells St, down in Old Town. In the same block was a bar called the Glory Hole, and another dance-bar, the name of which can't quite remember. The Bijou was reportedly owned/operated by the Cleveland Outfit*, and the manager was gunned down in a little gravel parking lot a few doors south of the theatre. That was (apparently) when ownership passed to someone in the Chicago Outfit, and an expansion into the second floor was executed. There had been two very small restrooms (one ladies, one men's) but no female had been in that dump for ages. Both had two stalls, with g/h in each partition. In the men's room, there was a stand-up urinal directly in front of one of the stalls (it had "french doors"!!!), each of which couldn't have been more than 1.5 feet wide. Thus, guys could go into the "men's" room, turn around and take one step to the side, and take a leak standing up. Of course, there was no way to fasten the "french doors" shut, and guys sitting on the john behind the french doors would try to peek out, and if they saw a hard cock just beyond the door, they'd suck it off. Now. I've always had a streak of altruism running up my back, so one fine winters day, I wore a particularly appropriate parka (with deep inside pockets) and with the 3-inch hole-saw attachment attached, and, a scrap of sandpaper, went down to the Bijou on a little "mission of mercy". Some guy was flashing his cock a couple of seats away, so I figured he might be my "mark', went down the aisle to the fuck area immediately behind the theatre part, to the space where the johns were. Went into the men's room, (farther back into the storefront), and into the crapper just opposite that stand-up urinal. Got the drill out and ready, and waited maybe all of 5 seconds. Heard nothing, so began sloooowly & quietly drilling a gloryhole in one of the french doors just opposite where a cock would be taking a piss. I did have to pause several times, when I heard footsteps - but it was short work to drill out 3" hole. Had a scrap of sandpaper with me, so was able to at least get the slivers removed, and presto - a hard cock suddenly appeared. Sucking cock isn't my very favorite, but I don't mind doing it - so the Improvement Contractor of the Bijou Theatre was also the first guy that sucked off a cock in that particular gloryhole. *aka the "Mob". I don't know if that moniker applied elsewhere, but one seldom heard others refer to "the mob" - it was known as "the outfit".

To the OP, the terminology is unfortunate in the post, since it immediately summons forth one memories of the worst humanitarian disaster in recorded history. But, the parallels with current events in the US are unmistakable. It's hardly a secret that "all the president's men" are in process of exponentially enlarging their ability to crush dissent, and do their best to imitate the horrors of the previous century. Of secondary interest is that these paramilitary dullards supposedly "need" places to live. They don't. Ice agents live in their own homes. When a "unit" of these "icicles" is sent to X location to perform their indignities, there is often a "unit" of ice people in the area the agents work from. Think of these people as an adjunct National Guard type of structure. Thus, the building of (potential) concentration camps is only tangentially related to where extant ice facilities - at least at present - are located.

So am I. I think highly of your (blackrobe) input, and it pains me if offering my viewpoints managed to do that.

The question that leaps to my mind is, were you raised in some particularly strict, repressive religious environment? That can really mess up a kid's mind, and stick around for years if it's not dealt with.

Nope. It's no one's "fault" that I am who/what I am. It's my choice, and no one forced it upon me.