All posts in marking my territory

Ongoing Fucking

Gloryhole cock shoots a load in Jarod's ass
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While I have not been able to post it, I have bred. And often. My Chicago trip saw three receive my juice, which I still intend to record here about two as both were worth the marking — one a loaded Latin, as I mentioned in an earlier post. The other a cheating cub, away from his hubby on business and taking loads from strangers.

I’ve bred four or five others during the blur of my travels. Most are anonymous. Some know who I am but most don’t and I don’t give a fuck one way or another. My notorious blog does give way to allowing me access to ass, which I appreciate.

I’ve also had the lovely honor of loading up an escort who’s decided to try out Atlanta for a time. This adorable (and honestly sweet) young man offers up his ass and appreciates a good fucking.

If you’re in Atlanta or the northern side of town, hit up SubBtmEscort on BarebackRT.com. I hope to get him to open up for one of my more detailed conversations as a bareback escort.

And if you hire him, please mention me. In fact, just say “hi” thanks to me.

I’ve also fucked at Inserection at Cheshire Bridge, the adult bookstore with some of Atlanta’s best gloryholes. The comments on my Inserection page are correct: The place now charges for the rooms upstairs.

I find this is a good thing. Too many meth-head asswipes were abusing the open rooms and flopping upstairs, sleeping off their highs. Now you find sex happening downstairs and more fucking. I’ve bred more thanks to this push downstairs, especially through gloryholes.

Just yesterday, I actually ended up in a booth with a former Marine — at least I am guessing he was former. Gosh, more than any other branch of the service, those guys just love getting it up the ass. And this one did too, taking my load with gusto.

All this said…

While I’ve written all this, I do think things will need to shift or change.

I haven’t figured out exactly how. Do I mean I’m settling down? Not at all. I can’t. I need to spread my seed. I always will.

But I also need a better resource of ass. And although I’ve craved to help pass on the skills I’ve learned, I still haven’t found someone dedicated enough to mentor.

I pass the time. Waiting.

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Deceptive Practices

Stealthing, Stealth, Stealth Fucking
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Freedom to fuck. I love to fuck. The first moment my raw cock slides inside an ass provides for among the most amazing moments ever, second only to those precious, time-deceptive pulses of my cock as sperm surges from my balls, combines with more bodily fluids in my prostrate and then forces through my urethra and out my cock into the warm folds of a man’s ass.

The fuck session can be powerful with the overwhelming senses from the tip of my cock to my entire body, depending on the talent of a bottom.

Along with my recent post Opens a new window from this blog about the rise of the bareback adverse and their belief that we of the raw-fucking-clan are out to indoctrinate the youth without comprehending the so-perceived consequences, I’ve been the target for particular hatred for my stance on stealthing Opens a new window from this blog. Interestingly enough, some posts by contributors Opens a new window from this blog  that are clearly designated Opens a new window from this blog have been attributed to me by condom Nazi Link Opens in a New Window blogs.

(I don’t link to these non-bareback blogs because I’m not sending them the traffic like they’re sending me here. I’ve got two already that are on track to make my December Top 10 list as referrals Opens a new window from this blog but they won’t get listed by name at all.)

Although I write a lot about stealthing, what it is and isn’t Opens a new window from this blog, how to do it Opens a new window from this blog and I’ve even debated it with other barebackers Opens a new window from this blog, the vicious attacks are coming against me for it more than anything (I do not post threats or anonymous attacking comments either).

I wanted to clarify a few things about my stealthing practice. It probably won’t do any good, but I’ve hinted to my readers. I imagine some of you are smart enough to read between the lines but just haven’t bothered to comment back.

Here goes:

I never agree to use a condom

The bottom makes an assumption that handing me a condom means I’ll use it. I am a man of my word. In this case, I never give my word. It’s a lie of omission. I omit the condom. The mistake is assuming that in the dark or in some anonymous sex situation, a perfect stranger will use a condom. I will not.

The bottom and I “meet” at a sex club, adult bookstore or some other semi-public hook-up spot

I don’t stealth every fuck. It’s rare. That said, none of my online profiles says I’m into “safe sex” or suggest I prefer “safer sex.”

I rarely bring condoms anymore. I’ve gotten more lazy about it, but if I’ve decided to fuck you and you think this guy who stuck his cock through a gloryhole and you’ve been sucking on for the last five minutes is going to adhere to the honor code you’ve composed in your mind, you’ve got another thing coming. Or should I say, you’ve got something cumming up your ass.

If you ask me whether I’ll fuck you safe or use a condom, my answer will be, “No”

I never lie directly. Even with online discussions, I will tell you straightforward that I will not use condoms, I do not wear condoms and I will not compromise on this.

Nine times out of ten, the bottom will come around and eventually ask me to fuck him. Sometimes, at the last second, after I’ve been fucking him for 10 minutes, he’ll ask me to pull out to cum. The smart ones know this is time to pull off my cock and not let me back into their ass because I never answer to the pullout.

I always blast inside. Duh.

If they’ve paid attention to my e-mail or my online name, they know this, but most think themselves special and that I’ll consider them the exception and do it just for them. In fact, I’ve had men ask me to make them the exception. I’ve responded that they need to make me the exception.

I have never caused a status change or knowingly transmitted any disease to anyone

Most assume I’m violating some law or doing some harm. I haven’t. I don’t. Doesn’t matter whether you think I’m honest or not, I’m writing this with a very clear conscious.

          

I’ve never attempted to be so very clear about my approach to stealthing. I don’t imaging I will stop stealthing. I’ll tell you why. For all the sensation of the physical, there’s a mental one I get when I breed an ass. Denying that to me denies me that pleasure of planting my DNA inside someone. The fact I know I’m putting the essence of who I am inside someone — especially since I’ll never get a girl pregnant — is a powerful aphrodisiac.

The condom denies me this. Since I’ve said I am a barebacker, I want to fuck bareback, when a bottom takes that control from me and assumes that I’ll just accept wearing a condom, it generally pisses me off.

When did the default position for fucking become with a condom? Even the safe sex advocates believe people should discuss this shit before hand.

There’s a power trip, sure, but I get that power trip with every fuck. Stealthing someone isn’t a special power trip. I’m not getting off more because I’ve slipped off the plastic or snapped off the receptacle end.

I’m just putting the DNA where it belongs, where I’m naturally inclined to put it. I’m like the Pope of Barebacking. No condoms ever. Every sperm is sacred. Jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window is meant to be experienced.

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To Serve and Protect? You’ve Got to Be Fucking Kidding! I’m Here to Fuck and Breed

To serve and protect
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From my recent support of Nick Roberts and his blog on barebacking Opens a new window from this blog, some people are a little confused. I got a couple of comments Opens a new window from this blog:

 

Kristofer Juffer writes

“YOU PROTECT YOU – NOT ME PROTECT YOU. It’s your body, your choice.”

If you agree with this, why support actively go against people’s attempts at protecting themselves with stealthing? If a bottom wants to use a condom, and the top puts it on, and the bottom keeps feeling to make sure it’s there, but you’ve popped through the tip and there is nothing short of pulling out and looking at it after each thrust…how should one protect themselves then?

If “It’s your body, your choice,” why promote something that actively goes against that choice?

 

Donald writes

Your comment confused me.  You prefer to have bareback sex and will purposely fool a bottom by having unprotected sex with him even when the bottom gives you a condom and expects you do to the right thing…the bottom is protecting himself but you are stealthing to get your own needs met. Please explain.

 

To Protect and Serve

I’ve written about this a few times Opens a new window from this blog but I guess I’ll help some of you through this again.

It is not my job to protect you. I am not the police. I am not here to “protect and serve.” I fuck. I want only to enjoy myself. Sex therapists will tell you you’re accountable for your own orgasm. I’m not here to make sure you have a good time. We’re not in a relationship. You’re seen the abbreviation “NSA”; it means “no strings action.” I want no strings. I want no emotional entanglements.

If you expect anonymous sex with a perfect stranger to be trustworthy, to hook-up with someone you’ve just met and for them to be 100 percent honest about their weight, their age, their name (if one’s given), their penis size and their “disease-free” status, you’re a fucking lunatic.

If you’re going to an adult bookstore or hooking up online and you “trust” someone not to sabotage a condom to stealth, to slip the condom off or expect that the “safe sex only” moniker included as a part of their online profile means they’re really going to protect you, please go ahead and hand them your wallet, your car keys and your bank account numbers. I’m sure they’ll give everything back later.

You somehow think handing a wallet then turning your back on things will protect you.

It’s not my job to protect someone I just met.

I am accountable to only me and I’ve chosen not to “protect” myself. In fact, I will do everything possible to assure that my cumload will go into a raw ass.

It is your job to protect yourself.

“You protect you. Not me protect you.”

I have never agreed to use a condom. I do not want to use one. I have no responsibility to you. I don’t know you, I don’t want to know you and I just want to use your asshole to get off.

I make no agreement to use a condom. If the bottom assumes that handing me a condom means that I’ll put it on and use it responsibly in an adult bookstore or a sex club in a darkroom, he’s got another thing coming.

I’ve been writing this blog for a long, long time. But some of you seem to hate my stealthing and miss the fucking point I make about it. If you have figured it out (and those of you who’ve I met and clued in do not count), then write a comment.

It all boils down to the basics: You don’t want to get your ass bred, do not bend your ass over for a stranger.

Other of you blind with rage, please, just let it consume you. And I’ll keep telling everyone how to stealth Opens a new window from this blog.

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Recognition

Fucking a beefy bottom!
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If you’ve ever been through corporate testing for your personality, the results will show the kind of person one might be. Back in 1998, I went through some extensive testing and it determined I happened to be an extreme introvert Link Opens in a New Window.

That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m shy as much as it indicates my focus tends toward internal factors — I’m more reflective, inward looking. Add to that my own hate of smoky bars (and smokers Opens a new window from this blog) and social anxieties toward large crowds and, well, you’re talking about someone who’d much rather stay home than go to the latest concert or wander around a gay bar trying to pick up bottom.

Through the past decade and a half, I’ve taken up a project on myself to open myself up. This blog among the therapies, but I’d do things as subtle as wear brightly colored shirts to work rather than the bland, fade-into-the-background hues that allowed me to skulk through the office unnoticed.

Am I an extrovert Link Opens in a New Window yet? Actually, I’ve tipped to the other side in testing, more ambivert (in the middle) than anything else.

Imagine my surprise of late as more and more people on Scruff recognize me both by my geek glasses or by my cock shots.

During my current job, I leave Scruff, Grindr and Kik Opens a new window from this blog open (and I often check BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window) since I have a horrible boss (he had me come in on my day off just so he could yell at me for a couple of hours last week).

A local beefy bottom on BBRT and I can never seem to synchronize. We’ve attempted to hit the local adult bookstore Opens a new window from this blog or swing by his place for an anonymous fuck. I’d never seen his face, just his beefy body with a little hair and some miscellaneous, non-distinct tattoos.

He seemed a little like one of those tomcats near a dumpster at midnight underneath the streetlight. He looked cute from a distance and might be tame but a sudden move and he’d dart away. In fact, he would disappear from my radar for a period of time but reappear, asking when were we ever going to fuck.

Usually this tomcat-and-dog game wouldn’t seem alluring to me. I’m a no-nonsense kind of guy. I want to fuck your ass and breed it. If you’re good at it, I might fuck you again. Otherwise, I’m done. Yet toying around with him had his allure.

We’d finally exchanged cell numbers because I had a tendency to pop downtown and he didn’t hit BBRT with enough frequency to notice my visits. I’d mentioned one such visit Monday night and he’d given me at deadline to be at his place by 8 p.m.

I couldn’t make his deadline.

On my day off, Thursday, I’d been in the office for a while and let my boss yell at me for a couple of hours straight. I’ve learned not to argue back because the idiot wouldn’t let a fact get in the way of his being pissed off. After he calmed down, he dismissed me, not wanting to pay for any more extra time with me this week, so I left, heading downtown to check on a friend in a hospital.

Scruff had been open at work and stayed open.

Imagine my surprise as I received a message that simply said, “I’m sorry that Monday didn’t work out.”

I finally see his face — round and handsome with a Van Dyke Link Opens in a New Window. I’d seen him mostly naked — in a jock — and found his beefy wide pecs with the fur down the middle to tree-trunk legs quite attractive. His ass provided a wide target and muscular mounds but no one would accuse him of being a “bubble butt.”

Bubble butts seem so inflated that sharp objects might cause them to “pop.” His ass provided a more substantial challenge.

We toyed with one another, as we always did online. But in the end, he relented and agreed to let me come over. It would be an anonymous encounter. Him naked on his knees to blow me hard then I’d breed him.

I arrived, parked and walked in the designed backdoor (how coincidental) into a hall just off his bedroom. In the darkness, he’d lit one candle that provided enough light to allow me to see the figure in the room.

Perfection is not accurate, but to me, perfection is not desired. I like a man with beefy pecs without distinct definition of a six pack. He’s got hair in all the right places without removing it, shaving it or waxing it. He’s a real man. He likes beer, dogs, football and chicken wings. He doesn’t spend his life at the gym but has his priorities balanced.

This is the kind of man I recognize.

He’s blindfolded. I unbuckle my belt, unbutton and unzip my jeans and flop out my cock, anxious to get it into his mouth. I step up and my cockhead brushes against his moustache as I place my hand on the back of his head where he’s got a full scalp of short-cropped hair.

“Suck that cock,” I said. “Get it hard.”

His mouth flew open with exuberance of a hungry man who hasn’t eaten for weeks and caressed my cock as it  swelled to hardness. He bobbed his head up and down,  interspersed the work with occasional licks of my balls, which thanks to the cool weather were tight up against my body but swollen. I’d shaved them a while back, so the light layer of stubble on my contracted testicles tickled a little.

I didn’t plan on this being a long session. And while he’d followed my instructions to a T, I don’t imagine he’d really wanted it to be more than a quick dump and go either.

But we all recognize chemistry when it happens and it began to blossom in the room. His oral skills were above par and he kept reaching up under my shirt. My tit tweaks were getting responses so I decided maybe I’d make this a little more fun.

I stood him up to discover he stood quite a bit shorter than me — probably about five-foot-seven. But his beefy wide stance still struck me as I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed up, kicking off my shoes and pants.

Positioning myself so my cock went right underneath his balls, his own prick stood out at attention

I growled. He responded in kind and soon my mouth covered his and we were kissing deeply. He slurped at my mouth and tongue.

He was thirsty.

“Spit in my mouth, please Sir,” he requested.

I obliged.

It had been a while since I’d had a fuck who wanted my spit and, let’s be honest, I didn’t exactly tank up for this little adventure. I’d just expected a fuck and go. But here I am kissing. My pants are off. I’ve got this naked body beneath me and, God’s honest truth, I wanted to completely feel it.

Off came my shirt too.

Now I nibbled on his perky nips, for which he jerked every time. Then I dropped to his cock and balls.

To be honest, I found his cock impressive for a bottom. Not huge but perfect for a man his size. Thick with a purple angry color to it. Yet I ignored it and went to his balls, tickled them a little with my tongue and then put my hands under the bend of his knees. I pushed him up and exposed his pucker on this wide, fuzzy hole.

It winked.

I dove into it without hesitation, tasting a mixture of soap and something else there. But I worked my tongue and a bit of spit into it. Licked his balls, nibbled a nip then kissed him deeply so he could taste his own ass.

Then I lined my cock up to his hole.

“You’re going to need more spit than that,” he said.

I spit on my hand and rubbed it into the head of my cock before pushing against his sphincter.

Pushing harder.

I pierced him, entering into his ass.

Raw, I ripped inside his ass and entered him the way a man should get fucked. Not a lot of lube. Just a little spit. So he could feel me at every millimeter as my invader worked into him farther and farther.

He began to beg.

And I began to fuck.

His thick, tree-trunk legs up around my shoulders as I moved my waist in almost an awkward fashion, working my way into his ass and out.

I would almost pull out and he’d tell me, “Wrong way. I want it all inside me.”

I did finally pull out to put him on top and let him ride. But he was a good little cum slut and sucked my cock some first before climbing on board.

He bounced. We kissed. I bit his nipples. He recognized how perfect my cock would be for double penetration Opens a new window from this blog. We fucked more. I made sure he had plenty of my spit to swallow.

“I think it’s breeding time,” I said.

“Would you fuck me on my stomach?” he said.

“You know that’s how I like it,” I said.

He hopped off and I moved out the way so he could crawl face down and let me invade. Despite his substantial beefiness, my taller frame allowed me to cover him almost completely.

I began to fuck and he began to beg. “Give me your fucking cum man! Breed my fucking ass, man! Let me have your load! Put it in my ass!”

I did. I shoved it in deep and my cock throbbed, flexed and began to shoot my load deep inside him. In his case, it felt particularly deep. Rocking my hips a few more times, I left my cock inside him like a butt plug as we kissed and chatted a bit more.

I pulled out. He felt his asshole.

“It’s wet,” he said.

“I wonder why,” I responded.

He licked and sucked my cock clean.

“Full service,” I said, thanking him.

He left his blindfold on as I put my clothes on and left. He played with his cock a little, which I wouldn’t deny him Opens a new window from this blog.

I spit into his mouth one last time before slipping out the door into the chilly night.

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Improvements at Atlanta’s Inserection Adult Bookstore

gloryhole fuck
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Ground Floor Layout of Inserection Cheshire Bridge Atlanta

After my last update on Inserection Opens a new window from this blog this summer, I wondered if the adult bookstore would recover. Surprisingly, the recovery has happened and it’s much better.

It’s not perfect. The air conditioning works, the beds in the hook-up rooms have been repaired and the seeming dominance of meth addicts appears to have lessened.

I doubt it’s the $1 addition to the cover (now $11 to get in on weekdays). Maybe the door people are better trained or recognizing the addicts.

The crowd seems still too top-heavy, although I’ve kept to breeding except for an occasional abortion Opens a new window from this blog. In fact, I’ve got a good couple of entries I need to write up soon including a raw fuck in the darkroom on the ground level and a beautiful married man upstairs in a hook-up room.

I post to Craigslist when I head to Inserection and I always get four or five e-mails from locals asking what to expect. I usually refer them to this website. To expand upon reviews and update, I wanted to provide a little more information including a couple of “maps” of the ground floor and upper level.

You can read the updated review and learn more Opens a new window from this blog.

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