It is without a doubt among my biggest thrills to meet (and occasionally seed) those who read my blog. I get “fan” mail often. A lot of people ask inane questions. Others engage me in conversation. With the exception of those who I get to fuck (and with their permission), I’ll write my experiences on these virtual pages.
Then there’s those who lie.
If you’ve ever seen the documentary movie, “Catfish,” you begin to unravel the kind of delusions some people develop. They build a life of a lie and they double-down on it. They exist within this lie and develop it so much further. It’s a cocoon of lies around them so deep, so interwoven and so swollen with guilt, sex and altered reality, you can’t quite find your way to the truth.
This has happened to me before.
It was a sixty-something woman pretending to be a young gay man — quite convincingly. She was a manager at a major retailer and would take photos of her young, hot, male employees — sometimes not even 18 years old — to lure in unsuspecting multiple men. As most people tend to do, she neglected to pay attention to the background of images and her store information including awards were plainly visible in these pics she sent.
Eventually, a group of men made sure she stopped and the major retailer was none-too-pleased by the publicity it received.
I would have let it go myself had it not been for the fact one photo I knew was a 17-year-old employee who turned out to be quite straight. But that, my friends, doesn’t get to our Las Vegas Liar.
An Introduction to ‘Mike’
I am generally not a vengeful person. And I expect a certain degree of, shall we say, stretching the truth. Your first name is likely different and you’re probably a little older, a little heavier and the photo you originally sent is a few years in the past when you were on that great diet or taken from an angle that just looked especially good.
But overall, it’s you.
A young man who had been chatting with me for a while lived in Vegas. I’ll speak honestly. We did share some affinity for certain sexual proclivities that I rather enjoy. As with any of my early correspondence, I’d asked for a photo exchange, in which he reluctantly obliged. That always makes me a bit suspicious, so here we already had a problem because he always seemed to be at work and unable to send me photos of himself — even G-rated ones. Yet our conversations would venture into clearly XXX-rated territory.
On occasion, I neglect to tell the poor idiots who use “work phones” and “work computers” without photos that their explicit messaging is just as much a problem for them if the workplace monitors IP traffic. If their nasty text messages or IMs are making it through, so can some photos.
As the conversation deepened, he then mentioned his boyfriend, who he eventually introduced as Person #2 and pointed to an Adam4Adam.com profile, “VegasNewHotBoi.” He also mentioned that his boyfriend wanted to join in the bareback fun.
I realized the photos were a little off (but not as off as I’ll explain in a moment) but I let it go and we chatted more.
Fast Forward Several Months
Several months later, I got word that I needed to travel to Las Vegas for a week. I saw it as an opportunity to see Mike and use his ass. We began to explore what might become an interesting adventure between the two of us. He would line up men for me to fuck, along with volunteering to get fucked. As he was versatile, we would tag team and it would be quite a round of fucking.
In the course of the conversation, we ended up trading photos again, largely because he wanted to see me. I asked for more of him.
This is where it gets interesting.
When he sent photos of himself to me, this time he sent me photos of Person #2.
As we chatted, his stats changed from his original 5-foot-8, dirty blond at 24 years old to a 30-year-old, 6-foot tall guy.
Fresh, new photos were not to be had. He used a “work phone.” Even as he texted me his exploits of giving blowjobs and getting fucked raw in Excalibur Resort bathrooms (according to him, they’re quite cruisy), he couldn’t seem to point the iPhone at the mirror to snap even a G-rated photo. Again, this excuse of it’s a “work phone.” Yet he could send texts all about the huge cock that just shot a cumload into his raw ass.
In all this time, this “boyfriend” of months past no longer was mentioned. In fact, it seemed as if he had no such man in his life as he existed to get cum. Every night, he basically told me of his search for cum and how he got it. I played along, also discussing how we might meet up.
Arrival in Sin City
I didn’t find it odd that “Mike” went silent the few days before my arrival. Despite being online (something he would later attribute to his computer going to “sleep,” but something I know also forces his G-Talk status to “not available” or even “off line,” neither of which occurred), Mike never responded to IMs or e-mails until I sent the first one from my hotel room.
“I’m here,” was all it said.
“In Vegas?” he responded. “Where?”
“In my room,” I answered.
“Okay,” he messaged back. “When do you leave?”
Now I found this an odd question. I just got here and he’s asking when I’m leaving? Beside the fact I’d been talking about being in town a whole week and using bottoms for that period of time (he was a blog reader, after all), I usually see the “when do you leave” question from people who postpone sex until it’s too late to have it. In other words, they never had the intention to fuck.
I remained silent to this little turn of events.
“I got suck flu,” he wrote, finally breaking the silence. “Two days ago. It seems to be going away. Feeling better. I haven’t had the flu like this in years.”
I’d remained stoically silent until finally typing, “Uh huh.”
“Can we meet tomorrow?” he now asked. “Anytime! Off work until Tuesday.”
I’m guessing that the flu was indeed improving. Further, he knew that tomorrow, that Monday, I had a little event planned. I’d advertised on BarebackRT.com for gathering to occur. He’d asked if he could attend via the site and I’d confirmed him.
He would be “bummed” at missing the party (which turned out to be great fun with some hot, hot, hot guys). I began asking about responses I’d expected from him and he’d deny ever receiving such messages. Even when I sent screenshots from BBRT showing the messages, he’d send others back showing such messages didn’t exist. As if someone wiped them away completely.
As I tried to nail down a time and place to meet, it became apparent it would not actually occur. Whoever this person happened to be, he would not let me pin him into the snare he’d created for himself. So allow me to share with all of you in Vegas what you’re up against.
Confronting a Catfish
I began by pointing out the confusion of who he really was. His response proved to be denial. He and his boyfriend (who re-emerged in a convenient heartbeat) often pretended to be one another. It just wasn’t a big deal. They did it all the time. Since at the initial time they were both planning on having sex with me, he didn’t think it was all that big of a deal to play a switcharoo.
In his words, “I may have misled you a little. I really didn’t lie. You were going to be able to fuck me. You were going to be able to fuck the guys in the photos. The only question was who really was me.”
Well, that my friends leads us to a more interesting question as to who these photos might be because I do not believe the folks in the face photos match the images that are naked.
CSI: Photo Flesh XXX
Consider the three photos presented as Person #1. Images #1A and #1B were clearly taken of the same person and in sequence. However, we begin to plot the inconsistencies:
- The camera device varies between 1A/1B and 1C
- Room and background setting varies significantly between 1A/1B and 1C
- Clothing represented is significantly different between 1A/1B and 1C.
- The man in 1A/1B is much more thin and less muscularly defined that the man in 1C.
- The man in 1A/1B is much more tan carries a significantly different skin-tone than the man in 1C.
- The man in 1A/1B has much more chest hair naturally occurring than the man in 1C.
- As outlined in the blow-up images below image #1A, the nipple shapes vary significantly.
- As outlines in the blow-up images below image #1B, the person in 1A/1B has a shoulder tattoo on his left tattoooo. The person in 1C clearly does not.
We have a similar situation in Person #2.
The two color photos provided — image #2A and #2B — clearly show a largely smooth guy, tall and thin, with a delightful bush restricted to just above his cock. While the man in image #2C, presents with rather hairy legs and a bush that extends to the inner thighs.
Clearly, again, we have two people. One in photos #2A and #2B; another person is in photo #2C.
I bother because I care. Ha. Not really.
I honestly don’t give a shit if the fucker who’s been communicating with me was some old fart sitting at home stroking his cock for the umpteenth time in this little fantasy world. What bothers me is, when confronted with the truth, this delusional bastard tried to stick to the lie. I got excuse after excuse for hair, for inconsistencies and for obvious problems. Seriously, you’re just going to shave the sides of your bush but not the bush itself?
Whoever is in these photos might be innocent (that’s why the faces are blurred) but someone is guilty. So gentlemen, keep an eye out for the following people:
- OutInVegas on BarebackRT
- LVSuckNSwallow@Gmail.com and LVSuckNSwallow on G-Talk
- OutinVegas@Gmail.com and OutinVegas on G-Talk
- VegasNewHotBoi@Yahoo.com or VegasNewHotBoi on Yahoo! Messenger
- VegasNewHotBoi on Adam4Adam
Of course, these are just the ones I know about.
You make your own judgment. I’ve made mine.
P.S. If you run across who’s really in these photos, please let me know. I know there’s an asshole on Manhunt in Boston using my photo.
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