All posts in secret

Deceptive Practices

by MarkBentson on December 7, 2012 with 6 Comments

Rating: 5.0/5 (8 votes cast)

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 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 . Interestingly enough, some posts by contributors that are clearly designated have been attributed to me by condom Nazi 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 but they won’t get listed by name at all.)

Although I write a lot about stealthing, what it is and isn’t , how to do it and I’ve even debated it with other barebackers , 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 is meant to be experienced.

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Paradise, Here I Cum…

by MarkBentson on July 25, 2012 with No comments

Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)

I’m off to my vacation and the destination of Key West. I know it’s “off season” and for many of the “in” crowd, Key West is no longer considered a destination of choice. But the place holds a great deal of nostalgia for me.

I believe Key West happens to be the location of my first orgy. I’d had a three-way prior, but five men together was a first time (atop Coconut Grove’s decks around 3 a.m. sometime in 1990). I met my first, real boyfriend here. On a later trip, that boyfriend introduced me to Gran Mariner, now my favorite drink. In my very early 20s at the time, he introduced me to the finer aspects of gay life well beyond fucking.

Although I briefly visited Key West on a cruise stopover in 2004, I’ve not returned for any substantial time since 1994, when I visited with my first live-in boyfriend. We broke up during a drunken night in the streets.

I’ve advertised my impending arrival on Craigslist with the following ad:

top blogger visiting soon, looking for bottom inspiration – m4m (kw)

I am a controversial blogger who writes 
about my sexual conquests. I'll be 
visiting Old Town Key West 
later this month.

Would YOU like to be the conquest 
on my visit? The bottom I fuck and 
fill? One of the entries in my blog?
Send me an email. That could happen.

I'm a top. I don't use identifying 
information about the people I fuck, 
although I do like to use photos 
(with faces blurred or without faces).

Email me. Of course, I always enjoy 
hearing about you or, better yet, 
seeing photos. My info is in the blog.
I will send a link and you can check 
me out and check out the blog.
Then you can read and see if 
you're interested. There's plenty of 
JO material.

Please read the blog carefully. 
Some men just think it's hot and 
fail to miss even the most basic 
information. I'm always looking 
for inspiration so if you think 
you've got it, let me know.

P.S. I ALWAYS appreciate your 
basic stats and your pics.

A Gay Blog You Can Jerk Off To

I tend to post it when I’m visiting any town for a substantial period of time — more than a few days. I get an interesting selection of responses. And with all of my travel, I put noticed on my BarebackRT profile .

The results? Very mixed.

First, a lot of folks just e-mail to get the URL to my website. They go off, jerk it and never respond. A few come back.

I rejected the 62-year-old crossdresser. Then there’s a few insincere and not-my-types.

One really stood out (you can see him to the right). He sent me multiple pics and we texted back and forth for about a week.

As with most promising individuals, they flake out when it comes to actually meeting. In the last few days, this potential hottie has stopped communicating with me via text.

Yes, there’s a couple of others. One who’s a single night overlap so depending on how I feel when I arrive, I might breed him.

While getting a lot of ass lined up isn’t happening, I’m sure I won’t have too much trouble finding something. Still, hit me up if you’re interested and going to be around .

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Ooops… I Did It Again

by MarkBentson on July 9, 2012 with 1 Comment

Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

A horndog night ends. A bud and I end up a Eros in Atlanta. His choice, not mine. But I’m given an hour.

I’ve got to admit I had a few too many and, while I wasn’t shitfaced, I didn’t quite measure up to fully in control. I arrived with a parched throat looking forward to a Diet Coke only to find the fucking soda fountain plastered with a few too many “out of order” signs. So it was warm bottled water.

Yuck.

I wandered through the maze and black lights, into the rear back room. My dick throbbed inside my shorts. No luck. In the large dark room, I found a man with an already spooged ass wearing a jockstrap. He seemed entranced by the way I worked his nipples on his smooth chest. I positioned him to slide inside and he seemed completely open to my fucking. His solid body just would crouch.

I stand 6-foot-3-inch tall. Technically, I’m 6 feet 2¾ inches. Still, it’s tall. But this fucker had to be 6-foot-5. I couldn’t get his ass lower and, even on my tippy toes, only my cockhead would dip inside. I realized he was just entranced. Don’t know what he was tripping on but positioning him for a fuck wasn’t going to work.

I moved on.

A few more aborted attempts and a good blowjob or two, I end up in the darkroom again with just a few minutes left in the countdown on the clock. The room is really pitch black. You see figures as they move into the room but overall, you can’t make out faces. It’s all by touch and feel and smell and hearing. Every sense but sight. The sling in the room is empty and I’m there, dick out, being felt up by a few guys when one grabs me and pulls me toward the sling. He climbs in.

I feel his hole. It’s already wet.

Bingo.

I begin to push inside.

“Wait,” he whispers. “Condom.”

Fuck is all I can think.

He hands it to me in the wrapper. I open it up, pop it on like a porn star then pierce the side so only the base of my cock is wrapped. I slide it in.

The bottom’s fingers never eve bother to check if I’ve wrapped up as I begin to fuck him. He’s moaning loudly. I am not holding back.

“Oh yea, fuck me harder!”

I do. The swinging of chains is drawing attraction. There’s two men to either side and one behind me. Fingers probe where my cock is. The fingers do not belong to the bottom’s. It’s the man to my left. He touches the rolled up condom at the base of my cock. Little does he know that’s the only part of the condom on my cock.

He whispers in my ear,”I don’t need a rubber. My ass is right here if you want it.”

But the stench of his smoky breath hits my nose. I turn away and fuck harder.

I reach down to find my poppers. I take a good snort of them And then I go back to the fucking. But not before I put my hand down and slip off the condom ring as I pull completely out and reenter him all raw.

My pace speeds up and I enter the rhythm with the beat of my heart as it absorbs the smell of the nitrates and I fly right toward my orgasm. I feel the first moments of my cum begin to pump inside this guy’s ass and I want to make sure he gets all the cum he deserves here in the dark. I know it’s coating his chute now. I pump harder. I’m holding his legs against my chest and he’s grunting. I’ve got him in a kind of vice lock.

As the second and final wave of my orgasm hits, that’s when the massive bulk of my cum really begins to shoot in his ass.

He might be realizing it.

He’s begging for me to let him down.

But I’m still pumping, my around locked around his legs. I’m pushing all my DNA into his ass. And I’m letting him have it. I want him to feel me. I can now hear the mighty squish of my cock as it enters and exits.

“Let me down man,” he says a third or fourth time.

I finally loosen my grip.

His knees unlock, my cock slips out and I step back into the crowd that’s gathered around us. All the darkness allows me to slip into the people and then I’m gone.

In a few minutes, I’m with my bud and we’re travelling home.

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Virtual Words and a Vibration

by MarkBentson on May 2, 2012 with 1 Comment

Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)

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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Travel Diary: Trio of Cum Dumps in San Fran, But Barely Remarkable

by MarkBentson on March 31, 2012 with No comments

Rating: 5.0/5 (1 vote cast)

As I continue my visits in the San Francisco Bay Area, I’ve been attempting to get closer to the Castro as much as possible in order to attract a larger crowd. This time, I stayed just across the Bay Bridge in Emeryville. But I might as well had stayed in the Silicon Valley as the bottoms insisted I proved to be much too far for them to venture forth from the city itself.

I’m beginning to comprehend the mentality that the Bay is a great divide and few dare cross it. It’s similar to Atlanta and the Interstate loop around the city proper known as the Perimeter or I-285. People here refer to life “ITP” or “OTP” as in, “inside the Perimeter” and “outside the Perimeter.” Those inside dare not step outside for fear the air isn’t breathable. Many outside won’t go in for fear of rape, shootings or worst of all, paying for parking.

During my stay I fucked and bred three holes — a Latin, an Arab and a half-Asian. One crossed the divide for me (thanks), I crossed for one and the other happened to be on my side of the Bay.

Arab Ass

Arab ass is hot. Not metaphorically. I mean it’s temperature hotter than normal ass. I’m sure somewhere along the way I’ve fucked some Arab ass, but I just can’t access that index file at the moment. He was a late-night stop-by and I figured, what-the-fuck, here’s something new, I’ll try it. He wasn’t hideous but I’ll be damned if he wasn’t all that. He made up for it with enthusiasm, even licking my ass that I’d not exactly prepped for rimming (yet he lapped it up with gusto).

Let’s just say I was just there to breed him. He kept begging me to hold off so we could play some more but I didn’t. I injected hot sperm into his steamy ass.

Gotta had in to the Arab, he licked me clean, put on his clothes and said, “I go now.”

He slipped out into the night.

Half-Asian

On my way to the airport, I stopped by his place. His photos on BarebackRT.com were hot, hot, hot. The photos were accurate but the attitude went a little more prissy than I’d hoped. We got down to business and his skills were okay as long as I pinched his nipples — damned bossy bottoms. Perform and I reward. Don’t expect me to reward so you’ll perform.

Anyway, this ass had been well-used many times and once I got into it, he opened up like a Morning Glory Bloom at dawn, making it impossible for me to cum. So I stopped being polite and started getting real, pushing him down to his stomach so I could fuck him like I meant it. He protested and resisted, but I finally got him where I needed. I went into top mode and lost how long it took, but I had to go harder and deeper to get my cockhead somewhere in his ass where it felt a little tightness. He just grunted. I finally buried it and pumped out a few squirts.

Latin

I save the best for last. Short and looking like a Marine, he stepped inside. When he kissed me, his mouth opened and he started with the tongue, from top to bottom. Sloppy. And sexy. Great chest with just a little hair. Hardcore angular face. And the fucking started almost immediately after I got hard. When he rode me, I got him close to the edge fast and we had to slow down.

Didn’t matter much. When I had him on his back, I fucked his ass hard and he grabbed his cock. Two jerks and thick, milky cum flew out.

He endured me fucking a little longer, beginning for my load and I let him have it.

Obviously, his thick cock was a top cock and this was a top fulfilling an itch that came along on occasion. But he let me finish off, which I appreciate.

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All posts in secret

Deceptive Practices

I never agree to use a condom

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

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

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

What people are searching to find this page::

Paradise, Here I Cum…

top blogger visiting soon, looking for bottom inspiration – m4m (kw)

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Ooops… I Did It Again

What people are searching to find this page::

Virtual Words and a Vibration

What people are searching to find this page::

Travel Diary: Trio of Cum Dumps in San Fran, But Barely Remarkable

Arab Ass

Half-Asian

Latin

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