Behind Dead Eyes (Part Three)
Be sure to read Part One and Part Two
We left the room, his ass richly seeded with two of my loads planted deep. He was hot in pursuit of more cum.
Over the course of the next hour, we would bump into one another. A semi-straight man pulled him into a room and bred him, degrading his “faggot ass” and filling his pussy full of cum. It only got him hotter. And when we encountered each other and he recounted the story, I wanted to see him get bred again.
The Wednesday night crowd at the adult bookstore just didn’t seem to be living up to the promise, I was about to give up. But something magical started happening.
Within about 10 minutes of one another, two bottoms got naked and just sat in open rooms waiting for cock.
I’m standing upstairs watching one and then the other. Both are respectable, although one is a muscular black man and quite attractive.
My friend comes upstairs and shortly following him is a tall black man. They make a bee-line for an open room and I’m invited in.
The black top isn’t real happy I’m there, so I’m relegated to watching and jacking my cock some. As the latte-skinned top peals off his clothes, he reveals massive pecs and a perfection of a body. When his shorts come off, the cock that springs forth is one of those massive ones you see in porn.
My friend’s eyes widen.
He kneels naked and goes to sucking on this huge arm that, for all the trite “baby arm” references, I’m guessing it’s larger than that.
As my friend, now with three loads in his ass, sucks, the black top pushes his head deeper onto that humongous appendage. He’s choking. The width alone cannot fit down any throat, no matter how much anyone relaxes.
The top bends over to feel my friend’s ass. It’s a hint.
Eventually, after sucking a while, my friend glances at me and I mouth, “Offer your ass.”
After choking for too long on the monster, now covered with a thick spit, and the top playing with a slightly out of reach ass, the bottom lays on his back and his ankles float naturally toward the ceiling.
The top jerks his slicked cock and slaps it against the hole. The bottom is so thin and his hole was tight for me. I’m wondering how it will accommodate this elephantine cock.
The top stops slapping the ass, pauses and turns around. He grabs his pants.
Fuck.
I’m hoping he’s searching for lube. Maybe poppers.
The top is trying to find the right pocket and then pulls it out. A Magnum condom.
He hurls it at the bottom.
If only I’d had time to train my friend. Bottoms can sabotage condoms easily. But I’d never had the chance to teach him any techniques. Dumbfounded, he holds the condom and then hands it back to the top, who rips it open and, like a porn star, puts the shiny plastic over his cock.
Some spit follows and, luckily, the previous loads aren’t all dried out. The top positions it at the opening of this tiny bottom’s hole and, with his massive muscles, pushes in.
The bottom’s eyes open wider than ever, his mouth gapes and… well… he’s screaming, “OH FUCK!”
It slides into him. Some how. It seems physically impossible. But it is.
The bottom tries to control his massive black man’s pace. He attempts to stop the onslaught. But he can’t. And the black man begins to own the little bitch bottom the way he wants.
As he fucks him, rolling his hips, I can watch the muscles in his well-defined back, ass and legs move with precision and rhythm. There’s a musicality to it. It’s not a simple in and out. There’s a pumping and side to side, up and down, circular. It’s a dimensional fuck.
He’s got a technique that’s exquisite to watch.
“I want you to cum inside me,” the bottom says. “I don’t think I can take this cock much longer.”
I’m imagining the top has heard this before. So he grunts an approval and then speeds up and, quite frankly, proceeds to fucking with some force.
I’m surprised my friend survives this onslaught as I watch the strain of how the top’s muscular arms pull the bottom’s legs toward him at the same time the top’s hips force forward. It’s a collision of the black’s thighs to the white’s ass.
“I’m cumming,” the gutteral grunts.
And he fucks even harder, if that’s possible. Slamming with force. I can see my friend’s cock swinging flaccid. Yet, he seems content in a weird way.
Then he pulls out and pulls off the condom, tossing it in the small trash can in the room. My friend is on his knees, sucking the remaining cum off the cock.
“I usually pull out to cum,” the top says. “I don’t usually do that.”
Neither of us say anything.
I’ve only got my pants open, so I zip up. As the top begins to put his clothes on, he explains how he prefers one-on-one and not three-ways. This is the first time anyone has ever watched him fuck. We all make small take.
I think my bottom friend and I are thinking the same thing.
Finally he leaves and we close the door behind him. I neglect to lock it, although it does no good because the other two bottoms are out there giving free fucks. We aren’t disturbed.
My friend’s pants are down soon and I’m fishing around the trash for the condom. I find it. Pull it out.
It’s so huge. I could never really get it on me inside out. I try though. But the tip where all that white juiciness is located would never be exposed. And the condom is so stretched out now. So I take my fingers on the inside-out condom and push it inside his raw hole.
I know he’s really raw inside his ass. As I’m adding the fourth load to his mix, I push in deep and along the edges. I want to make sure that the DNA contributors from these three men bond with this bottom boy. That we all become a part of him and he know it. That he feels this.
As I push the condom in and out, the slimy goodness disappears more and more and now there’s just a film of ass juices on the condom.
My cock is hard. I want to fuck him some but I know he’s sore.
“I need to cum,” he says.
He flips over and I play with his ass while he jerks his cock. Soon he’s shooting his load.
As we clean up and get ready to go, I admit there’s something about him that attracts me. Something deeper than his looks. Something more than his twisted sexual nature. And as I look into those brown eyes and again get lost in the limbo, there’s a recognition there.
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3… 2… 1… BLASTOFF! It’s My Fucking Birthday! (3 of 3)
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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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.
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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3… 2… 1… BLAST-OFF! The Countdown to iBLASTinside’s Birthday (1 of 3)
Forty-Five Random List…
…for Mark Bentson’s Forty-Fifth Year (Part 1 of 3)
To mark this moderately important milestone in my lifetime — halfway to 90, which means I’m most certainly over the hill and speeding toward a furnace to turn me into ashes that will then be scattered here, there and everywhere to celebrate the clandestine debauchery of my life. But let’s focus on the here and now, the hedonism of the moment. Here begins part one of three of my Forty-Five Random List.

45. Fuck a porn star
I can’t begin a list without the wish that continues on despite repeated tries. I want to fuck a porn star. Please. This past year has seen promising moments with opportunities that has come close including promises from two, rather significant big-name porn stars.
One with whom volunteered to take my load but fell in love and moved off to be with his new boyfriend. The other I bribed and he took the gifts and ran off to be with his new boyfriend with whom he’d just fallen in love.
Now that I’m traveling to Northern California and the San Francisco Bay area, I’d hoped that perhaps I might just luck up on an actor or two. Nonesuch. So my desire goes on.
44. Get Medallion status on Delta
Okay, what an odd goal, but I’ve been flying so much and I’m stuck in steerage with everyone else. And so far, I have yet to sit by anyone hot or even a decent looking straight guy. Every plane ride seems to be another female, another old sixtysomething retiree with his golden-age wife, a mother with her four-year-old or a school mar’m. Why can’t I get one hottie?
I doubt Medallion status will help much with that, but it will at least help assure I get a little more legroom and a possible upgrade or two. Long-time readers will know I’ve been hoping for this for a while. I will achieve it (for sure) this year. But if anyone has the inside track on helping me get upgrades, show me some love!
43. More fucking on travel
As simple as that. I attempted something in Las Vegas that didn’t work: I solicited someone to be my regular cum dump. And while I had no trouble finding ass to fuck, sometimes the pursuit of ass gets boring. Good thing Vegas brought a stock of tourists and locals worth breeding (and even enough with whom to have an orgy).
Yet, still, I crave an easy come-over-bend-over-and-be-bred kind of guy. I’ve got a couple of men who I can contact if I’m ever in a lurch or a dry spell while at home. I’d like that on the road.
42. & 41. Yoga & Weight Loss
I am not someone to goes to the local Y and signs up for a class. I don’t hit any old gym. Teaching me anything physical requires a special talent and I seek out people. Like my trainer late last year (as seen pictured here). I expect people helping me to be in shape themselves (yes, I’ve seen trainers who need a bit of help).
My former trainer was great, if not tragically straight. And despite some of my own misgivings, I signed up with him. But I have a few things that just do not work for me. First, he must keep me motivated. He did so, to a certain extent. But he never really followed through on additional promises to keep on me outside the gym (for which I paid him extra, I might add).
Second, he’s got to be the example I look up to every day. And when he started posting unhealthy things to his Facebook, I had to take a step back some. He stopped motivating me. It all came crashing down.
And my weight came up after losing so much.
But here’s what I learned about myself. The nutritional diet he put me on required a lot of psychological fortitude, which I somehow managed. And while my body didn’t always obey, it did provide some form of willingness to begin getting in shape. Shape which I have not lost completely.
And so, with both those, I want to step more into a yoga situation. But I want someone to work with me individually to set me on the right course for success. I’ve become convinced of the mind-body connection…
40. Stop chewing my nails
I know. Bad habit. I’d just about stopped it but some bumpy flights of late got me started again. I guess a nervous habit. Or I’m just nervous.
39. Upgrade my iPad
Have you seen the Retina display on the new one? (Although it’s not called an iPad 3, that’s basically what it is.) It makes my iPad, bought the first day of the original launch look like a low-resolution, piece of crap.
38. Massage me everywhere
When I lived in Washington, D.C., I had the hottest Filipino with the best muscle body who would come over once or twice a week and work out the kinks. Then in Georgia, I found a spa that had a lovely little Asian boy who helped me out too. Those two both gave great massages and both provided happy endings.
Love a good massage with a good happy endings.
Then I ended up with a great massage therapist but he was a straight Latino. Although very cool with the whole Gay thing, he wouldn’t bother to touch my cock and, no matter how much money was promised and how much goading. Nonetheless, I kept going to him and enjoying the massage part. It was therapeutic.
But he’s moved out of the area and now I’m without a decent massage therapist.
I’ve been looking and trying out a few people. Not a lot of luck so far. I’ve had decent results but nothing remarkable.
Moreover, when I visit other cities, am finding it very difficult to get therapists there to respond and be accommodating.
If you’re a therapist in the San Francisco Bay or Atlanta area (and you’re good), please let me know. Happy endings appreciated but not required. However, I do prefer good-looking non-smokers.
37. Better shoes
I need some. Hard to find. Right now I’m still in two-year-old Old Navy top-siders and six-year-old Rockport sandals.
36. “Read” more for work
Notice I put “read” in quotation marks, as my long commute to work allows me a lot of time to listen to books. Unfortunately, since getting my new car, I’ve been listening to Sirius XM more than anything (my favorite channel is Raw Dog comedy, Channel 99; coincidental it’s got “raw” in the title, huh?). I should be listening to more books.
35. Speaking of Sirius XM, please stop Derek & Romaine
They’re on OutQ, the Gay channel. They attempt to dispense advice to the masses about sex and gay life but neither of whom is qualified in any way, shape or form. Derek is just a prude. And he’s an asshole prude. Sometimes he’s so rude to people I’m amazed anyone bothers to listen to him. Both of them wouldn’t bother to even entertain the concept that barebacking is truly an option. I’ve even heard Romaine have a fit about men with hairy asses being horrible.
Additionally, they barely plan a show and talk about their personal lives as if anyone really gives a shit.
Please, they’ve been on the air too long. Get that shit off the air.
34. Going strong on no jacking off
Every load I’ve shot in 2012 has gone in someone. It’s gone in an ass or a mouth (and it’s rare for it to be a mouth).
33. It’s been 420 for me, finally
In my list of 43 Arbitrary Things when I turned 43, number 21 mentions I’ve never tried the infamous 420. Pot. Mary Jane. Wacky tabacky. Weed. And because of my opposition to smoking, I’ve never smoked pot. I still have never smoked pot. With research and some experimentation (hint to the right), I finally got to discover what the big deal was all about.
It wasn’t a big deal.
Made me even more convinced that (sorry for a little politics) that the stuff should be legalized.
32. More rollercoasters and amusement parks
It’s already been a good year for it. I want to make it a great year.
31. Did you read this?
Why haven’t my readers been commenting? I’m still getting almost 1,200 visitors a day but lately, you fuckers have been quiet. Speak up!
Don’t miss the next part… 30 to 16…. tomorrow.
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Where’s the Gay Sinning in Sin City?
As I get closer to the date for travel to Las Vegas, I’ve been researching and asking locals about where I’ll get my fix for fucking around. My answers are disturbing. For this little outpost in the desert that promises excess and hedonism, the opportunity for homosexual offenses seems few and far between.
I am told by the resources I’ve pumped for information the following:
- Two “bathhouses” exist, only one of which is decent (and the two are practically neighbors).
- No adult bookstores in the area offer any normal “gay” action in booths or gloryholes.
- No gay strip clubs or even go-go boys are available in town.
- All of the nightclubs are pretty much upstanding, nice places.
- Nothing too cruisy or too seedy in town when it comes to businesses to visit.
- While ass is available, your likely source will be other tourists on the strip.
Alas, this concerns me a little but doesn’t surprise me. I’m not one to get political (fuck politics) but the overall environs in America has us returning everyone into the closet and hiding all the good fun.
I’m become more and more pessimistic in the bottom population of Sin City and my hope for a bottom partner-in-crime during my time in town as I search for a bottom cum dump. I have one who claims to hope to join me and a couple others who’ve expressed interest.
I have a feeling I’ll just be fucking whatever walks through my door late at night. Oh well. So much for Sin City. Hello Fuckville.
P.S. Any locals have any other information about where to find some fun, hit me up.
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