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Virtual Words and a Vibration

iphone-in-a-pocket

Nothing more than the feel of vibration. The notion of an arrival of a text message. Your stomach gets a little knot. Could it be? Is it from?

No. Just a friend checking in.

Returning your iPhone to your pocket, it vibrates once. It’s just an e-mail. You relax. But then you think, it could be an e-mail from him. Naw. He’d text me. Not e-mail.

Still, it bugs the back of your mind until you check it later.

Finally, on a bathroom break, you send the obligatory, “How’s your day going?” message.

Not much communication during the day. Sporadic bursts of intense messages with long delays in between. Then that night-time, battery-draining flurry.

The night-time. That’s what you live for. That’s what you wait for. That’s what you wish for. That’s what you hope won’t stop.

For the day the vibration stops is the day you’re afraid he’s moved on to something more real. Something that’s not virtual. Something that won’t fit into a pocket. Something not cold, metal and plastic and glass.

Something flesh, warm and pliable.

And even then you’re afraid he’ll return to the promise of the other choices that are virtual and vibrational. The things not connected to you.

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May 2, 2012 1 Comment MarkBentson Short URL
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3… 2… 1… BLASTOFF! It’s My Fucking Birthday! (3 of 3)

3-2-1-blast-off

The Last 15 of My List of 45 Random Things

Celebrating the 45th Anniversary of the Last Time I Touched a Vagina

Today is the big day! If you’re wondering about the previous parts of this list, please check out 45 to 31 and 30 to 16.

15. The closest I’ve gotten to a female vagina was children’s clay

If you think I’m joking about it being 45 years since I physically touched a female vagina, I’m not. In fact, I might not have touched the vagina since there’s a chance I was a C-Section baby (don’t know for sure; I’m adopted).

When I turned 30, some straight friends of mine were teasing me about the clam and decided I needed to learn more about it. So grabbing what was handy, they took some children’s clay, molding the inner and outer lips along with the clitoris to try and explain to me how to perform cunnilingus.

Funny thing. They didn’t want to hear how to give a good blowjob.

14. Monogamy isn’t a part of me

Choosing to be with one person is a social construct. It’s not instinctual. Watch Jerry Springer to figure out human nature at it’s most basic is to run wild and fuck everything (and to occasionally get a nice blowjob from a tranny). Okay, so Jerry Springer might not speak to social norms but I know it’s not normal for me to be with just one person.

13. Unlucky?

What’s luck got to do with it? In a way, I don’t believe in luck, fate or otherwise. But still there’s this cosmic fate in our lives. It seems every once in a while we deserve a slap-down for something or another. Sounds a little too philosophical, right?

12. What to do with the BBBH.org site.

Believe me, I am pumped by the overall success of the Bareback Brotherhood and very proud to be one of the cofounders of the BBBH movement. But I’ve invested as much money as I can into the site and the next step is virtual servers and rebuilding the site completely on another platform to get it to function more quickly. I can’t do it on my own (and even with the help of the other dedicated cofounders, we don’t have the resources).

11. More bottoms need to learn to be service oriented

I find more and more that bottoms are rather demanding. Isn’t that the top’s job? More often than not, the bottom wants it this way or that.

It’s so funny to hear a bottom proclaim, “I really like a selfish top.”

Then as I declare myself one, the real selfish one comes forward. “You need to come over,” he’ll demand. “And I need to sit on it first. And don’t get any lube on my sheets.”

10. Is it me or is Grindr biased against older men?

If I put “top” in my profile, I get censored. Hell, in less than six hours, my profile is down even if I hint at my position. If I even put anything remotely humorous or sexual, Grindr slams me. But I see dozens of younger men who put “top” or “bottom” in their profile and Grindr leaves it up without a problem.  Grindr leaves all kinds of shit up with young men.

But not with older men. Not at all. If you’re past 40, you can’t get away with it.

9. Gloryholes are fucking hot

I love them.

8. Gummy bears are the bomb

I like them better than chocolate.

7. Lucky!

So far this year in 2012, it’s been a good one.

6. Someday, if I’m a big executive, I want to sexually harass without consequence

I’ve always wanted that kind of assistant. I promise that I’d make sure he was well compensated.

5. I embrace being a geek

Gotta admit, I don’t mind it any more. When I was younger, it was difficult to admit I was intelligent. But now, I love being a geek.

4. I have to admit now. Forty-five is getting old.

And don’t give me “it’s just a number” bullshit. Half-way to 90. And 90 is pushing it for being really old. I kind of doubt that’s the maximum age potential. I mean, if I were to turn 90, it would be May 1, 2057. Bristol Palin could be president. Who wants to be alive for that?

3. I don’t watch live TV except in hotels

Thank goodness for TiVo. Someone should invent a kind of DVR for hotels. Or someone needs to put high-definition Apple TVs and Hulu in every room.

2. I fucked on my birthday

A muscle bear (blond at that) got a load from me today.

1. Even if I am over the hill, I fuck damn well

Time breeds experience. My experience breeds ass fucking so damn good.

You ought to try me out if you haven’t… BBRT or HMU.

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May 1, 2012 2 Comments MarkBentson Short URL
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3… 2… 1… BLAST-OFF! The Countdown to iBLASTinside’s Birthday (2 of 3)

3-2-1-blast-off

Forty-Five Random List…

…for Mark Bentson’s Forty-Fifth Year (Part 2 of 3)

You can catch up by reading part one.

30. I need a protégé.

It’s something I have wanted for a long while. A paduwan.  Someone to take under my wing, nurture and teach the secrets of fucking. I’m not going so far as to suggest I’m the bottom whisperer or anything, but I do have a talent for reading men and finding a way into their pants and eventually their asses. Of course, getting into their asses means I fuck them raw.

I want a willing, dedicated participant who wants to learn. So many folks take the first bit of advice and then move on, thinking they’ve got the key. But learning is a process that takes a little time.

So I still await someone with endurance and patience.

29. Make some fantasies cum true

Believe it or not, I still have a few fantasies in the darkest corners of my mind. These twisted little flights of my sexual imagination require that protégé or someone like him to become synchronized with me and be willing to waltz into the lion’s den where it’s not a controlled environment, like a dungeon or a bedroom. It requires quick thought on your feet, persuasion and a certain Joie de vivre.

28. Spread my seed farther, wider, deeper

Travel isn’t the only reason to spread my seed. Implanting my DNA in men just is my mission, my passion, the reason for fucking. And I find as I can reach more men farther afield from home — whether that’s literally geographic or figuratively in some other means like culture, age, financial status or otherwise — I find it more of a turn on.

27. Negotiate Middle East Peace

Short of that, I want to fuck more straight and bi ass.

26. Take one down, pass it around…

Where is the Gran Marnier?

25. Breed on my birthday

Any Atlanta asses want to volunteer to take my load?

24. Speaking of birthdays…

My wish list remains open at Amazon. Anyone wishing to send along something nice is always welcome to do so. It’s welcomed.

23. More strippers please

I don’t mind putting dollar bills in armbands or socks and paying for a lap dance. In fact, there’s a little bit of a turn on. That’s why one of my favorite places to visit in Atlanta happens to be Swinging Richards.

As I travel more places, I wish there were similar clubs worth my time and attention. For example, in San Francisco, I’d hoped that the Nob Hill Theatre might be the perfect cross between a Swinging Richards and a gloryhole destination. It’s far from it (I’ll get around to offering my review soon). And I’d thought Sin City might offer me a few options. But no. Women naked, yes. Men (for men), no.

I know Canada is known for some good strip clubs and a few in South Florida, but are there any more in the U.S.? Come on guys, let me know!

22. I’ve converted

Long-time readers will know my affinity for Diet Coke. When I wrote the impossible fantasy, The Company, Diet Coke features prominently in the story, as it’s provided to my character (I know, lots of you want me to continue the story and I appreciate that; read the next entry).

Well, folks, Coke Zero now features prominently among my beverage consumption as well. In fact, I drink it much more than Diet Coke and much prefer it.

Truth is, who the fuck cares? But writing 45 things about yourself can become daunting halfway in.

21. Finish it

I have a tendency to start a lot of projects but never finish them. I love watching those hoarding shows on A&E or TLC and sometimes those mentally ill folk have the same ideas but with physical world items. And the hoard overtakes their storage.

Good thing my hoard is virtual and on a computer. And good thing I don’t grow emotionally attached and can let them go. I’ve still got goals but I just can’t seem to find an opportunity to finish the books or the online projects. And often money is a barrier. It’s like The Company, which apparently had a few people enthralled. I know where the story goes and where it ends, but I just couldn’t get around to finishing it. I need to finish things more often.

20. I still want to write and direct a porn movie

Recently, I noticed the fine folks at Treasure Island Media posted its first attempts at stealthing. In the end, I believe someone felt it “too controversial” to go on the DVD, but having watched the scene, it simply lacked the spark.

When Hollywood does big films about the Navy, they bring in technical advisers from (get this) the Navy. Part of the problem I saw was bottom could easily tell the top clumsily took the condom off. The fucking went on. It didn’t “read” like a legit stealthing.

That, among other controversial themes, are things I might explore. Should someone ever give me a chance.

19. I have no tolerance for stupid questions

For some reason of late, I’ve been getting more and more visitors who find this whole “blog” thing foreign to them. Among the young men in Las Vegas who said he might be interested in being my bottom, he liked my “page” but started asking a dozen questions about me. This here blog contains more information about me than you’d ever want to know. I referred him back to the blog, for which he said he did not want to invest the time in reading.

In fact, the little prick sent just one tiny faceless pic (as you can see) then responded with the following: “Thanks for the website and the warnings, but I did not really get to see what you look like or what your stats are. After hunting around the website for about 20 minutes I came across a few stats that could be you or someone you described as 6ft and 180lbs.”

Okay, as a little help, dumbass. In the future, look at the top of EVERY FUCKING PAGE and you’ll see something called navigation. It happens to have an entry called “About Me.” If you click it, you might find that for which you’re looking.

I hate it when someone who thinks he’s good-looking, young and full-of-himself somehow thinks himself special enough for me to mindmeld and figure out what the fuck he wants from me. He kept insisting I send him a variety of photos of myself and he would consider going bare, as he was usually a safe sex Nazi.

18. Despite how it reads sometimes, I’m a nice guy

Yes, I can be an asshole. But most would attest I am a nice guy. Anyone? Bueller? Please post your “yes Mark is a nice guy” in the comments if you’ve met me.

17. Fuck it

I know this is a little offensive, but occasionally fucking the younger folk less than half my age makes for fun and, well, makes me feel a little flattered. On the other hand, people closer to my age aren’t quite as flattering, no matter how good their shape.

16. How am I going to figure out 15 more?

I’m struggling for 30. What the fuck am I going to write for the next 15. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, my birthday, when I turn 45. Maybe early Alzheimer’s will set in and I’ll just repeat myself.

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April 30, 2012 No Comments MarkBentson Short URL
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Travel Diary: My First Scruff Fuck

las-vegas-postcard

Despite the promise of these new smart phone applications, neither Scruff nor Grindr net me much ass. Generally, I find them somewhere between mildly entertaining and irritating, as the guys on there generally want photos, photos and more photos. One bottom near me in Georgia can’t seem to recall what I look like despite the fucking full-frontal face pic on the front of my profile.

For some reason, one day in Vegas, my Scruff was simply blowing up. Grindr also worked, although what I got was a cute lady-boy escort (in male drag) hinting he wanted “dinner and conversation.” I declined. The pancake makeup with the petroleum jelly lens effect on his photo was just too much. If I wanted to fuck a girl, I’d fuck a girl. I don’t.

So on Scruff, which seems a less twinkie place, presented a Montana man for me, I got the urge to merge.

He stood on the beefy side of things, which proved fine by me. He was just a couple of hotels over — still a hike in Vegas, but close enough — with wavy brown hair and a goatee, standing tall as me but with wider shoulders.

We shook hands then proceeded to kiss and strip quickly. Right down to business. I imagine the men at home in the mountains were just as quick to fuck.

He laid on the edge of the bed, his head over it and positioned my cock to fuck his face. I was already hard so no problem there. I worked my knob down his throat but he never even made a gagging noise and, after the first few penetrations, his throat opened up like a charm.

After slobbering all over, I pulled completely out and he got the message, flipping over and presenting his ass. I lubed up just enough and entered his slowly, as his ass was very tight. We’d not discussed condoms, safe sex or anything else.

As I rode his ass, he grunted in pleasure. He enjoyed it.

“Damn that feels so good!” he said. “Fuck it as long as you want!”

“I will.”

“Just make sure I get what I came here for,” he said.

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“A big load in my ass,” he said.

Now that made my cock jump too.

“You want my load?” I asked.

“Oh yea!” he said. “Please breed my fucking hole!”

Of course that begging puts me on a path and before long, I was arching my back and plunging my back into his tenderloin mounds, giving him a marination of my massive DNA like no other cowboy from his parts had gotten.

“Oh fuck!”

I added several more thrusts to assure my juices penetrated deep before pulling out. And he headed home to his corral, feeling okay.

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April 28, 2012 2 Comments MarkBentson Short URL
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Goodbye Sin City…

goodbye-las-vegas

As I sign off and bid Sin City a fond farewell, I reflect back. The funny thing reflecting back includes whipping out my cock for a piss at the airport and discovering my little man still cum crusted from the last ass I’d bruised.

God, I love Vegas.

Finding ass this time around proved to be plentiful and easy. I had my pick of the litter every time. One man offered me $300 for my load but I turned him down in favor of fucking a hot Filipino ass, plump and round, and filling his delightful young ass up.

I think my location on the Central Strip with the Monorail made it handy. Two of my tricks used it (of which I know) and I was within walking distance of other major hotels.

Writing about the exploits will be an adventure, to say the least. And I’ve got a few things to say about this city of Sin when it comes to the sins I attempted to commit.

 

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April 20, 2012 No Comments MarkBentson Short URL
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