Category Archives: Travel Diary

Bareback top visiting New Hampshire

Travel Diary: Bottoms Blah Blah Blah

Flakes are universal, along with fakes and catfish Open-New-Window-External. This I know.

But when it comes to superstar flaking out, New Hampshire takes the fucking cake. In fact, my visit to Concord might take the bakery.

Allow me to explain.

I always post future destinations in my travel plans on my BarebackRT.com profile Open-New-Window-External. I notify readers here Open-New-Window-External that I’m visiting. Of course, all this is tweeted Follow on Twitter and ends up on my Facebook Open-New-Window-External.

To enhance it all further, I post on Craigslist an add that looks something like the following:

TOP blogger visiting looking for bottom writing inspiration – m4m (Concord Area)

I’m a blogger who writes about my sexual experiences on the road with bottoms I encounter… My blog is read by thousands every single day, reproduced on several sites and even some entries end up on a famous porn studio’s website.

Perhaps you might like to be the inspiration for a piece when I slide into town next week?

I don’t identify the bottoms I fuck, just write about the experience…

Hit me up with your info — a pic, stats, etc. I’ll respond with my blog details so you can check it out. We’ll go from there.

The site contains a lot of information beyond my fucks. And if you happen to be a top, we can tag team or maybe you’d like to try sitting on my cock… it’s a perfect 7 inches cut.

Thanks!

P.S. The only major requirement (other than bottoming for me) is that you don’t smoke.

From all this, I do get a lot of inquiries. Most of them are lurkers who never intend to meet. This I get. It’s also an opportunity to find new people to read my blog since not all barebackers have found the Bareback Brotherhood or my blog.

With many there’s the “I just fuck safe,” and then more than half switch their story.  But some don’t. Yet, with my blog, it becomes a jerk-off destination for many.

When I do finally arrive, I e-mail the best back to see if they’re still up for that fuck.

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Arriving in Concord

My arrival in Concord allowed me to long in locally to BarebackRT.com, Grindr, Scruff and Manhunt.net, all of which use a geographic tool to notify one who’s closest. I also posted to Craigslist.

Two men of the many interested e-mailed me back saying they were still up for the fuck, but one 4 p.m. pump-and-dump session became a no-show with regrets arriving several hours later because he was “stuck somewhere.”

Flake.

All of my online activity netted me a lot of interest. A lot. I was fresh meat in a town that didn’t see a lot. Of course, I got the usuals…

People just wanting to collect photos, see my cock or face.

I had one prospect on BarebackRT… he was a fucking hot dude in his late twenties… seemed like a good one. But here’s where we begin one issue that baffled me for Concord.

He had no vehicle.

I needed to come to him and pick him up, bring him back to my hotel to fuck and then take him home.

Now please check out the map.

Concord is not a major city. It’s 1½ hours north of Boston. It’s not a walking city. How can you not have a car and survive, especially when you’re not in college?

This turned into a theme of the night. No car. No transportation. My car is in the shop. My car is in the shop due to the storm. I don’t have a car.

By the way, none of these bottoms ever asked where I was staying to see if I happened to be within walking distance.

I don’t guess Northeastern tops teach bottoms they’re the ones who need to make the effort Opens new window of a page on this blog.

While some of them were hot enough for me to go and fetch them, it turns out I didn’t rent the car but a colleague did. I simply wasn’t an option.

Then came the other morons.

I also get a collection of those who want to postpone. These guys appear in every city, without fail. I wonder if they ever fuck. All conversations go something like this.

THEM: “How long you in town?”

ME: Just tonight (no matter how long I’m in town, I always say I’m here “just tonight”)

THEM: “Damn! It’s getting late tonight.”

ME: It’s just 9:30.

THEM: “I know but I have to get up early. I wish you were here…” fill in the blank with “tomorrow night” or “this weekend”

In other words, they can never come over now or today.

Proximity Alert

My first promising opportunity looked like a threesome, which I won’t get into too much detail on. In his early thirties and a scruffy blond, wanted to know if I wanted to fuck both him and another guy, in his early twenties — both online at the same time. As if on cue, the younger one sends me a message.

The younger one asks if I’ve got poppers, which of course I do.

Then he asks if I’ve got anything “more fun.”

WTF.

“Dude,” I respond back. “You’re well aware I’ve come into town. That means I flew. That means I went through security. At an airport. Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I have any drugs?”

He responds, “Oh yea, I guess you’re right. But I still want to fuck.”

Anyway, the vibe is off and the duo then go even more weird. The young one claims the old one is stalking him. The old one claims they’re “together.”

I don’t want to get into the shit. Kick them both to the curb.

Right Downstairs

One last opportunity happens as a guy indicates he’s in a hotel. I ask which one and it turns out he’s in the same one as I am.

Bingo.

He won’t disclose his room, so I give him mine, knowing my colleague isn’t on that floor. He tells me he needs 10 minutes to shower and get cleaned up.

Those 10 minutes pass. Then another 10. Another 10. Yet another 10. And at 45 minutes, I finally message him.

He apologizes, saying it’s taking him longer than he thought to clean out his ass.

Whatever, I say, just get his ass to my room.

Then he says come to his.

I tell him I don’t have his room number.

He says okay, he’s now putting on his clothes.

At an hour after we started this exchange, he says he’s on his way.

Then I get a text asking me if I’ll suck his dick too.

I’m baffled. I just ask, “What?”

Then he writes, “I need to run by the front desk real quick.”

Fuck that.

This fucker is just playing me.

“Forget it.”

He gets all bent out of shape. Says he won’t go by the front desk. Blah blah blah.

After some back and forth, I say he can some to my room, but he has three minutes to get there.

He says he doesn’t like my attitude.

I tell him to fuck off.

The next morning, he begs me to come to his room to fuck him.

I tell him I’m not disturbing  guests actually staying in the hotel.

Postscript

Perhaps the little fucker actually was staying in the hotel or maybe he was one of the guys I’d e-mailed earlier and said I was in town and knew the hotel from that. I’ll never know. I’m proud I never knocked on anyone’s door. That shit pisses me off. He probably kept delaying things to try and get someone else to come over and knock on my door but, like me, couldn’t find anyone to do it.

My luck is your luck, fucker.

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Key West Postcard

Travel Diary: A Little Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Memorable

It’s funny how things don’t work out the way one plans.

I arrived in Key West on a Wednesday night. I expected a build up of ass to peak with a crescendo over the weekend and a tapering off until I left the following Wednesday.

Alas, that did not occur.

Not that I was hunting for hole. In a way, I expected it to find me. I had offers, but I decided to be a bit picky rather than accepting just any ass thrown my way. Interestingly, I think the whole relaxing and doing nothing actually calmed down my hormones and made me crave ass less. Plus I got my fill of naked boys and attention at clothing optional destinations including my B&B and the nightclubs I frequented.

After the weekend concluded and Monday inched along, that itch rose a bit and I realized I’d built a hefty load in my balls that needed to find a home — and soon.

Unfortunately, BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window showed little sign of life, with Scruff and Grindr not too far behind and Jack’d so far netted me nothing. I posted on Craigslist using a generic top looking for bottom post and lucked up with a few potentials. I’d been posting on CL for a while — mostly my “top blogger coming to town and looking for bottom inspiration” ads with little luck (except for the hot guy who’d blown me off).

I got a mixture of responses, a few of which were legit among the flakes. One caught my eye and it wasn’t just the fact he was 20 years old Latino visiting the island. He’d offered his phone number early in the exchange and we began texting almost immediately after when he asked, out of the blue: “Are you the top blogger?”

“Blogger?”

“I figured you were,” he answered, without a confirmation. “It’s really cool if you are.”

“What are my chances if I am?” I wrote back.

“I’d say your chances are really good.”

Within a few minutes, we were meeting on Duval Street and headed back to my B&B.

In shorts, flip-flops and a Hollister t-shirt, he looked like the vision of someone from an advertisement. Smooth with very few specks to even call freckles dotting his face, he was perfectly tan and his wavy black hair just cropped perfectly against his scalp. His deep hazel eyes glanced me over as I took his broad hand into mine and we shook. He was warm — not as much in demeanor as in physically, like he’d just crawled out of a tanning bed.

Our chit chat seemed almost about nothing important as we compared our lodging choices. Soon we were walking through the gate and into the courtyard. I gave a little tour of the property and we ended up in my room. With the enthusiasm of his age, he soon removed all his clothes.

His body proved to be one of those not-an-ounce-of-extra-fat-or-flesh perfection. A mixture of tan and olive, his smooth skin was blemished rarely by a freckle. He didn’t contain any extra muscle either, so he didn’t pack on huge pectorals. His legs were almost hairless and he’d shaved his pubes off. His balls, drawn tight up into his cock, looked hairless as well.

I moved in closer but he pushed me away.

“I don’t really kiss,” he said.

I tried not to seem disappointed, but I was. His fat lips seemed too inviting for me not to lick just a little.

“You still suck, don’t you?” I motioned toward my cock.

He didn’t answer, instead moving toward my half hardness and  moving his mouth over its delicate skin.

He needed more practice but not bad. He kept his lips and mouth frozen while the bobbing of his head provided all the friction to bring me up to full mast. Still, I didn’t care. I played with the hair on the top of his head and then pulled him up and moved toward his cock. All the while I let my fingertips dance across his body until my mouth found the tip of his cock.

Yes, I sucked his cock and he inflated to an impressive 8 inches. Much larger than I dared reach. And fuck if he wasn’t thick with a slight bend to the left. The impressive size seemed even more humongous thanks to all the missing hair. Honestly, this boy wasn’t too hairy or had been shaving for a long while as I didn’t sense any prickly around his cock base.

I went for the balls — a little rougher, mind you, but still very smooth. Youth, it seems, can be so very tasty. As I began to lift his legs, he didn’t stop me and I went in search of his hole by taste.

My tongue found a crevice but it didn’t seem right. I pulled back.

What I saw happened to be among the most unique sights ever.

Most people have a ring around the rosie, so to speak. The external sphincter’s fleshtone appears a little darker or lighter, depending on the man. Sometimes it’s a few rings.

Not him. His skin maintained its perfectly olive bronzed tone up until his asshole, which appeared as nothing more than tiny folds like a quarter-inch crucifix. I’d never seen an ass like his. I wondered if he had any sensitivity in his ass.

As I returned my tongue to his ass, I soon discovered my answer.

His thick 8-incher had been hard but very pliable — like a dildo. But as I went to work and the cross-shaped pucker widened, his cock became more rigid — more similar to a vibrator. Soon it grew even thicker and longer. It stood in place, attention as the most dedicated soldier.

As with any 20-year-old, he hadn’t quite learned to share attention, used to the men who lathered upon him kudos on his good-looks and great body. But he took the subtle direction well as I reached for some Spunklube Link Opens in a New Window and began to spread it on his asshole and use my fingertips to tease that holy hole open just a bit more.

I righted myself, proceeding to poke my cockhead against the hole.

“Mind if I sit on it?” he asked.

“Works for me,” I said, rolling off and onto my back.

My cock too was rigid and pointing at my belly button. A string of precum dangled off in anticipation as he maneuvered in front and slowly lowered himself. But he did so without hesitation, with ease and sat down completely to the hilt within moments.

He was a natural bottom.

We’d never discussed condoms and, as he’d read this blog, knew I’d bareback. He seemed at ease with the fucking and enjoyed it, but didn’t vocalize a lot. Truth is, I’m not very loud either.

His chute adhered to my cock so smoothly, it was a fuck never to forget. Like a key sliding into a slot with just enough space for a perfect fit, his ass walls just seemed to fold into every skin fold of my cock. At first, he would move a lot to try to give me pleasure — something I found humorous since the movement seemed almost robotic, just like his sucking. However, thanks to his perfectly pliable ass, it didn’t feel robotic as the skin’s friction would give way just perfectly.

I soon found myself losing control of my own choice of when to cum.

I suggested he relax and let me do the fucking. Interestingly, he’d read my 11 Commandments for a True Bottom Opens a new window from this blog and attempted to adhere to at least some of them, even asking permission to play with his own cock.

“Just don’t cum first,” I said. “I want to be sure I get to cum.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The fucking isn’t over if I do cum.”

That made me want to test it out by having him cum on my cock then letting me fuck him with his cum, but I dare not risk not being able to load this boy up.

We settled into a leisurely pace and soon I put him on his stomach, staring at his hairless and smooth bubble butt before shoving my cock inside and mounting up for the breeding of his life. I snorted poppers and let myself lose control, asking him only once if he wanted it.

“Yes,” he said. “Give it to me.”

That one positive response was enough that I lost it in that perfect hole and began to flood it. And when I say flood, I mean flood. Since I hadn’t cum in about a week, I let loose a torrent out of my balls that soon lubricated that space between my cock and his ass walls. I pushed it in deeper.

“Just don’t cum inside me,” he said.

Oops, I’m thinking. It’s a little too late.

As I’d mentioned, we’d been fucking very quietly so I hadn’t really done the whole, “I’m cumming,” and grunting thing. I just generally don’t make a show of it. And here I am, pushing my cum deeper inside him and he’s asking me not to cum inside him.

I pretend like I’m having a build up to cum and I pull out and grunt, pretending to cum with my head on his back. As he knows about the truth now, he’s probably thinking “did I or did I not feel the splash of cum on my back?”

The funny thing: As I rolled off of him, he climbed right back into my cock and rode it until he squirted. And let me tell you, he squirted all over. Some went over my head, some landed on my cheek, my chest, etc. He looked away for a moment and I tasted it, just to sample some from the fountain of youth. He’d never know. After all, we weren’t kissing.

We chatted for a bit. Luckily he never put on his shirt until he left. I’d gladly have kept him there all night. But I sure as hell missed the kissing part. He asked if I would write about him and I expressed that I wanted to, knowing that I’d bred him and wondering if he’d really noticed.

He requested I withhold his home state and where he was staying as well as any photos he’d sent me, which I reluctantly agreed in order for you, dear reader, to read this. The rest is basically true, most especially the part about me breeding his ass when he asked me not to do so.

If he’d really been reading my blog, he’d know I always make a deposit. I don’t fuck with condoms and I don’t pull out. No matter how hot, how young or how great your ass is. As a matter of fact, the hotter, younger or better your ass, the more I can guarantee I’m going to breed it.

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Key West Postcard

Travel Diary: My Little Piggy

Meeting fans of my blog is always a little risky.

There is the stalker element. I’ve been stalked before but not for this blog. In fact, I’ve been stalked twice for completely different reasons and very strange results. One was just a mental case. Literally. The other is a story I need to reserve for an entry.

While on my trip to Key West, a few fans of the blog did recognize me. I’d partially hoped for a few folks who wanted to have a beer and maybe chat a little, show me the sleazier side of town. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. Mostly, men just want a sample of my DNA.

I guess men want to compare the bravado of the blog to the dick in real life.

Not sure how many of those men go home disappointed or really happy.

Among them was a man who messaged me first on Scruff, as you can see. I’ve altered things a bit.

He popped up early in the week then went offline and practically disappeared. I began to wonder whether I’d get him. Truth be told, another man kept in touch.

Or should I say “man.”

He spent a lot of time not exactly as a man, although he would get fucked as a man. I’m not at all into femme, transgender, drag queens or even guys who get off on wearing women’s panties while getting fucked. In fact, I’ll let a jock slip in there every once in a while but a man-thong creeps me out.

I knew it would make for a great blog entry that I’d fucked a lady-boy, man-girl or whatever you want to call it. But just having the knowledge of such made my dick shrivel.

But this pig happened to be all man.

He popped back up on the grid at the right moment — my last night in town. I spent it basking in three dick dancers and a bar back at Bourbon Street Pub (that’s an entry all unto itself). I’d been offered to spend more money to get one or all for a “private party,” but what I wanted and needed was relatively simple.

Pump and dump.

I knew my little piggy in Key West would understand.

I texted and he responded.

He said he was with a “bud,” who I actually assume was his boyfriend since he indicated he needed a moment to slip out. He did.

Arriving at the guesthouse, we slipped inside and found a dark corner. I dropped my trousers and he dropped to his knees, sucking on my cock immediately.

He opened wide and used a lot of spit. He went to work on my balls, familiar enough to know that’s how you generated extra cream for his ass. His aggressive work was perfect for my slightly buzzed state at 2:30 in the morning.

I stood him up and turned him around. He asked for poppers, knowing full well I’d have some handy.

He’d been using spit to apply to his ass. As he bent over, he grabbed my cock and lined it up to his ass. I applied pressure as soon as it hit the pucker and it slid inside easily.

His ass sucked me inside as aggressively as his mouth had. This piggy wanted fucked.

I grabbed his hips and went to fucking. Slow at first, then sleeping up. Fucking hell, his ass chute was smooth and straight. A lot of shit tunnels bend down when you’ve got a piggy bent over to fuck. Since my cock points toward my belly, it adds a little stress to my cock. But not his. As I’ve said, every ass is different and his offered a distinct smoothness and a nice straightness to it.

Despite our being semi-public, I began to fuck in earnest. I knew men had fucked in this darkened corner before and would again. I grabbed the poppers and took my hit. And then I began to slam his ass looking to relieve my balls of all the weight they’d built up over the night’s teasing.

The sound of my thighs slapping his ass started to echo through the courtyard, but I didn’t give a shit. He grunted. I did too. His smooth chute just felt too perfect as I went for the final moments before allowing my load to go into him.

“Want my load?” I whispered harshly.

“Yeah man!” he whispered back. “I want it so bad!”

I began to throb and then my cock let loose, sending literally torrents of cum into his ass. I pushed forward with my hips but threw back my head in a silent howl.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I came down a little and my cock  slipped out.

My little piggy turned around, crouched down and licked my cock clean. I could smell the mix of cum, sweat and ass juices. He gobbled them up.

Licking his chops, he stood, pulling up his pants.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that.”

And with that little whisper, he was off into the night.

I went to bed, slept well and flew home the next day.

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Travel Diary: Beantown Bronze (Borderline Bossy) Bottom Begs for Blast by Bentson

Travel Diary: Beantown Bronze (Borderline Bossy) Bottom Begs for Blast by Bentson

When I arrive in a town like Boston, BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window lights up. Am I recognized? By a few. New meat?  That’s it. I think the bareback community occasional craves that fresh injection of DNA into the murky mix. It’s so nice to log on and find 10 or 15 messages waiting to be read.

Now some buttwipes fail to read the most basic information, even in my own BBRT profile Link Opens in a New Window. As I’ve outlined on the Getting Fucked by iBLASTinside page Opens a new window from this blog on this site, I have a few requirements (don’t fucking smoke), but otherwise I’ll be interested based on how things go in our conversation.

Such is what happened with one such hot bottom.

Truth is, I had two very different men that were definite possibilities and one dark horse in the race for my cum on the one night I was in town.

The dark horse? A muscle bottom from Montana visiting Boston. Fuck if when I saw his bubble butt ass and thick thighs, I didn’t want to get my cock between his muscular cheeks and get him to squeeze.

The other bottom followed me on Twitter Follow on Twitter. He was fucking beefy and totally hot. But timing sucked as my boss called and wanted to meet the team as a precursor to the next day’s business. The beefy bottom had to be up early, so by 10:30 p.m. when things were wrapping up, he was knackered and off to bed.

While plenty of other men popped up, my 25-year-old bottom popped up continually, requesting an anonymous scene. And his ass photo just proved irresistible.

I love anonymous scenes. My favorite is known as “Room Service” when I’m traveling and I’ve done it many times… Opens a new window from this blog in Texas and Opens a new window from this blog in California, just to name a couple. But I know there’s a lot more here I’ve just failed to tag.

I outline the basics for the bottom. He comes into the darkened room, strips naked, finds me naked on the bed, sucks me hard then climbs on board and rides me a bit. I then put him on his stomach and finish off in his ass, sending him on his way.

His response?

Instead, he’d prefer I only take him from behind.

He outlines a completely different scene, where I hide in the bathroom and he is on all fours. I’m responsible for getting myself hard and I just fuck and load him.

WTF. Not exactly meeting the Eleven Commandments Opens a new window from this blog.

“No thanks.”

I then start working a beefy, tattooed guy.

Then the whining and “what happened?” questions start.

“Not interested in bossy bottoms,” I said. “Have a good one.”

“It was just a suggestion,” he said. “I’m glad to do it your way. I just like being taken from behind.”

After a little while without much progress and the clock ticking past midnight, I invited him over.

          

As I waited naked across the bed in the darkened room, I felt my heartbeat rise with anticipation, as with every time I do this scene. The light from the hallway suddenly floods part of the room as he slips in and I can just make out the shadow of a guy, about six foot tall, in a gray tank top, gym shorts and flip-flops. I’d told him to wear as little as possible.

The room plunges back into darkness and he’s slipping off his clothes. He’s moving toward the bed and soon I feel a tentative hand touch my right foot and it moves up until he’s climbed on the bed and his mouth closes around my half-hard cock.

His sun-chapped lips begin sucking my cock. I reach down into his brown mane and feel the soft hair and stroke it to his skin-peeling shoulders. This boy has had too much sun. I can feel the lizard skin as it flakes off into my finger tips. He radiates a heat.

I’m worked into full hardness but it isn’t until he starts to lick my balls do I finally start to feel some aggression and begin uttering, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I put his mouth back into my cock and push it down gently before getting him to lick my balls more. I feel his hairy chest, which has been clipped shorter and find his nipples. They’re smaller and fail to protrude much, sticking close to his body. A little disappointing, especially based on the face and chest pic I’d seen, which seemed to show larger, poking nips.

But who knows if he even sent real pics.

I pull him up by his hairy underarms and position him to ride. He spits on his hand and adds it to ass. I hand him my bottle of poppers and let him take a whiff as my cockhead begins to split him open.

For someone who wanted me to just take him from behind, it took this bottom a moment to really get his ass down to the base of my raw cock. He finally did, with extra spit and more poppers. Fuck, that ass gripped my cock tight. He begin to bounce on it. Just a little. He added more spit to the base but the friction just really set me off.

It’s not very often I find a bottom who could possibly milk a load out of me. This one didn’t know it. He was bringing me close to popping.

Interestingly enough, he’d change position or pace or angle right about the moment I’d be hitting that point of no return. Given the reprieve, I’d regain my composure. The darkness masked my biting of my lip to distract myself just enough.

Once, he almost had me there, I lifted up and asked if me wanted me to fuck him from behind.

I moved behind him, spit on my cock and slid inside.

He sighed, like jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window already occurred. I guess he really liked it from behind.

I laid on top of him and began pumping, giving him a whiff of poppers and snorting some myself.

“You want my load?”

“Oh yes!” the slutty bottom said. “Please give me your cum!”

His begging continued as I pumped, getting closer and closer until I sighed and let out a groan, my cock throbbing and my load pumping hot, white sperm into his ass. I pushed it into him deeper and deeper.

“Oh fuck yea!”

“That’s my load man,” I said. “You’re getting my fucking sperm!”

He backed his ass up. I climbed up enough so he could impale himself a little and he rode it that way until he shot a load on the bedsheets just a moment later.

I rolled off and he left into the night just a few moments later.

I hope he found some moisturizer. His skin really needed it. His ass, not so much. I gave it plenty of protein.

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Brief Visit to Beantown

Brief Visit to Beantown

Back from my tropics vacation (and much to write about) but I’m off to Boston for a quick visit. It’s one night so only one ass will get my cum. Is there a hot Yankee who wants my load? Hit me up. Of course, you can find my profile on BarebackRT.