All posts in San Francisco

Dune… Desert Planet… Dry Spell While I’m Working to Find a New Job. Anyone Care to Help?

I've been on a bit of a dry spell
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Coincidental that I’m rereading the Frank Herbert classic Dune and experiencing a dry spell at the same time.

Truth is I could get more ass if I tried but here lately, my focus as been finding another job — not that any of you give a shit about my mundane life. If you want to read about sex, go search some sex term or skip to another entry.

Help Me Find a New Job

For those of you who don’t know, I’m in marketing with a digital emphasis. I can do it all and am at a senior level. I’m just about ready to jump into a vice president role somewhere. If you know of anything out there, please let me know Opens a new window from this blog.

My career includes extraordinary work and let’s just say I know what I’m doing (after all, I am the man who established the #BBBH hashtag on Twitter). This blog is about my sexual escapades and I wouldn’t mind working in the sex industry or along the fringes. That said, I never have and I enjoy working in a more traditional medium. In fact, I’ve worked in computers, electronics, media, healthcare and manufacturing.

If you’ve ever heard the overly trite phrase “thinking outside the box,” I don’t even see a box. My creative ideas take great risks and almost always come with phenomenal rewards. Some of my results were so astounding that the manufacturing company for which I worked had a six-month backlog after a two-week promotion I ran. The company also went from no presence in social media to first place in its marketplace in less than a year.

Other highlights of my work…

  • Strong branding development and strategy throughout my career.
  • (Obviously) terrific writing, communication and adept at presentations (PowerPoint, Keynote, etc.).
  • Built multiple mobile applications for smart phones with fun and practical applications to further the brand.
  • Integrated the use of QR codes in retail point-of-presence materials and print advertisements.
  • Built and launched more than 500 websites — from tiny sites to blogs to personalized, database-driven, mammoth sites; always made sure those websites work with mobile browsers on tablets and phones; many websites are content management system-based and I’ve trained personnel how to best use the website.
  • Developed international websites with multiple languages using automatic detection of geographic location for best possible visitor experience.
  • Provided guidance through the basic discovery and design process including information architecture and search engine optimization (SEO) for websites.
  • Created strategies, especially for online growth. One consumer website grew from 1.1 million to 2 million visitors in one year using a combination of SEO, search engine marketing (SEM), microsites and social media.
  • Trained thousands of retailers in online marketing techniques to further their relationship with current consumer trends, bringing more consumers onto websites and into stores, significantly improving sales.
  • Developed and executed massive campaigns with multi-tiered aspects utilizing several third-party companies and hundreds of personnel successfully.
  • Ran public relations efforts including national satellite media tours.
  • Cast television personalities as spokespeople for brands successfully, maintaining multiple years in developing television commercials and online presence.
  • Developed YouTube channel for brand that now draws more than 300 viewers every day only two years after establishment.
  • Created unique social media approach taking a company from non-existent to first place in its marketplace category in about six months.
  • Flawless execution of events and convention, maintaining branding and delivering excitement.
  • Creative SEM and online advertising including conquesting and other strategies to best deliver new potential customers.
  • Developed web and social media syndication systems for major brands to help allow multilevel messaging from corporate to local.
  • Integrated all digital marketing aspects with traditional advertising for maximum boost to any campaign and seamless unification.
Okay, maybe that’s plenty to highlight my work. I’ve done a lot in my career and I’ve got a lot more I can do.

Sexual Harassment Positions Welcomed

You want to be my boss and get my cock and cum on occasion? I don’t mind. I’m glad to provide.

We can be colleagues and I’ll even fuck you.

I’m someone who doesn’t let sex get in the way of work. In fact, it would be great to have an on-site fuck or someone I travel with on occasion and we can fuck around together or just be each other’s wing-man.

I’m also willing to move practically anywhere in the U.S., Canada or the U.K. for a job. I’ll consider other parts of the world like Australia but not sure about non-English speaking or intolerant parts of the planet like the Middle East (for some reason, a lot of marketing jobs seem to be opening up there). Still, if it’s the right opportunity and the right fit, I’ll take it.

Now, Why I’m Looking for a New Job

Venting Here, So You May Want to Skip This Part

You might recall I was out of work for just three days short of a year when I finally got this job. A position with much promise and a fuckload of travel including visits to the San Francisco Bay area. That part I loved.

However, promises made to me were not promises kept.

Here comes some venting… something I really can’t put anywhere else.

My direct supervisor is not well liked among colleagues, although the C-level seems to approve. All of those colleagues — to whom I had responsibilities — made my work a living hell since they dislike my supervisor. One of my staff members appears to have had an inappropriate relationship with my supervisor and therefore refused to report to me.

Despite gallant efforts on my own part, I could never seem to get the management group to align with any concept on the most basic level. This meant that I couldn’t get all the managers to agree to a single branding message.

I made superb headway with the company website in a short period, increasing qualified visitors and decreasing a lot of the folks who came by mistake. The company purchases a lot of Google pay-per-click ads and I’d made significant headway in improving those results, making sure the clicks resulted in legitimate, potential customers rather than wasting between $2.50 to $14 per click. Before I arrived, some months more than 90 percent of the monthly online ad budget was wasted on bogus clicks. In two months, I’d gotten it down to less than 53 percent and it was dropping further.

Despite this empirical evidence, all the managers began freaking out when less people were clicking through — even though each click turned out to be a more qualified person. In other words, they’d rather see 1,000 clicks where less than 10 percent would be a potential customer instead of 600 clicks where 47 percent might make a sales inquiry.

Between that and the pure hatred between my supervisor and pretty much everyone else, and I had no chance to survive.

I haven’t lost my job, but I see the handwriting. It’s funny how everyone outside the situation can see my competence and respect my skills and experience. Seems to me anyone who has two decades under his or her belt brings something to the table. Everyone within my circle of influence doesn’t give a shit.

Therefore, yet another refresh on my resume and pinging all the recruiters again. Keeping my finger crossed this won’t be another 12-month ordeal since the handwriting is pretty damn plain and I likely won’t last that long.

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A Bunch of Other Things About Bottoms That Bother Me

Revenge of RAGE Against the Bossy Bottom
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Revenge of Rage Against the Bossy Bottom

Bottoms can be so demanding. Look, I get it. Ultimately it’s the bottom that’s in control. They can close up their pussy and all the fun ends. But unlike women, men have an uncontrollable urge to fuck and get fucked. And it seems to me that bottoms need to just give up that control and let the fuck happen. It’s their job just to open their ass.

As I wrote last week Opens a new window from this blog, bottoms can be demanding even before you show up.

Here’s more demands and shit that pisses me off.

Draw Me a Map

I live and work in the Atlanta area and, just like any set of suburbs, it’s dotted with cities and communities — Marietta, Roswell, East Point, Stone Mountain, Gainesville, Buckhead, Stockbridge and a few thousand others. Fuck if I know where they all are.

This happens so fucking often, it drives me nuts. I’ll tell some stupid bottom where I am. His response will inevitably be, “I’m in Roswell. How far away from you is that?”

The little fucktard isn’t staying in a hotel. He lives here. I’m not Google Maps. Check it yourself.

When I travel, even I have another window open with Google Maps. I’d often travel to the San Francisco Bay area. I made sure I knew where I was stay (East Bay area) and if someone said they were in Emeryville or Castro Valley or Redwood City, I’d map that from where I was to see an approximate time.

It’s not fucking difficult.

Scavenger Hunt for Ass

This is a treasure trail, not a scavenger hunt.I’ve written about this shit before, but I’m going to put this shit out there again. Give me your fucking address complete with apartment number. Don’t give me a landmark at which to meet you. Don’t tell me to drive somewhere then text you when I’m there for the next set of directions.

I’m not on a scavenger hunt for a fuck. We’re not spies. Don’t be afraid I’m going to expose your ass to the whole world. I could give a shit about whether your mother knows you love getting mancum up your ass. I just want to fuck.

Now you play games with me, that does piss me off and, well, then I might see about scaring you by posting you and your rather bad tattoo on Craigslist for the world to see that says, “I love man dick and my cunt craves cum.”

Just kidding.

I don’t even bother with fucks that won’t give me a full address.

You Can Find My Photos…

Send me your phucking photos. I’m not going to A4A or Manhunt or wherever you say your photos are located. Just send them to me. Don’t make me go search for me. Don’t give me the send to receive shit.

The funniest S2R ones are the young ones. I think because they’re 21 or 28 that a 45 year old will jump at the chance to fuck with them that I’ll send mine then they won’t have to reply with theirs.

I’m not that desperate.

When I have a dry spell, it’s usually because I’m being a little picky and I want some strange. I mean, there’s always my go-to asses I can fuck. But I want something new.

And don’t give me the fucking excuse you don’t know how to attach photos or a virus corrupted your drive or you’re on your work computer. Doesn’t work. (If you were on your work computer, dumb ass, you can’t be sending me nasty e-mails about how much you want my cock in your ass; that’s a lot worse than sending me a clothed pic. I know. I’ve worked at places that monitors IP packets and we look for words like “cock” as much as e-mail attachments of naughty photos.)

I Only Get Fucked at My Convenience

At times, a bottom needs to host and I’ll be hosting. But a bottom who only gets fucked at his convenience at his place? Fuck no.

There’s been this very hot piece of ass on BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window I’ve wanted to fuck and breed for sometime. He pops up on occasion inviting me over to his place. Always his place. It’s not like his place is downtown. It’s outside the Perimeter (that’s what we call the by-pass interstate that surrounds Atlanta) just like where I live. This little cunt has a car. He just won’t put his bubble butt into it and come see me.

Oh well, he’ll never get my load.

I don’t mind bottoms hitting me up when they’re horny. That would be great. I’ve got a few bottoms I know who actually do a good job of attempting to always be prepared.

Don’t Stop Me Mid-Fuck for a Hit of Poppers

I love poppers. But unless I’m on for a long-term session, I only take one hit of poppers. It’s just before I cum. Everyone who reads me knows this and everyone who’s ever been fucked be me figures this out.

First, in the sequence of who gets hits when, the top always gets the last hit. Bottoms go first then tops go last.

I’m with a bottom the other day. He takes a hit and hands me the bottle. I do my hit. Then the little fucker takes the bottle back and snorts another one. Meantime, I’m here with my cock in the wind as that warm rush hits me waiting on him to get his ass wrapped around it.

Not cool.

Another bottom I’ve given a hit to, taken mine and I’m riding his ass to breed him. I’m doing my usual, “Do you want my load?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, like something horribly wrong has happened. Like his wife has suddenly come home or something. His body tenses up. Since he’s about six inches shorter than me and a hundred pounds lighter, he moves under me in a way where I’ve only got my cockhead in his ass.

Again, I’m thinking something is wrong.

“Where’s the poppers?”

“What?” I say.

“I want another hit of poppers.”

“WHAT?” I say.

“Where’d the bottle go?”

I handed him the bottle and let him take a hit. I stop fucking him, politely, like I’m some sort of machine.

“You ready?” I ask as he’s put the bottle cap back on.

“Yes.”

I go back to fucking his ass.

What he doesn’t know is that final crescendo of popper high crashed against the rocks of me not cumming. I fuck him in a couple of more positions. Then I pull out, walk across the room and begin putting my clothes on.

“What’s up man?” he asks.

“I gotta get back to work,” I say, since it was my lunch break.

“You’re not going to cum?”

“No,” I say. “It’s not going to happen.”

I leave him, practically in tears. I could have held him down and fucked the shit out of him. Then I would have shot a load in his ass. A big one. He would have loved that. But it was much more painful for me to walk away from him without leaving a load in his ass like the last four times I fucked him. He loved my huge loads.

I’ve received a dozen texts from him asking what went wrong, if I’m angry at him.

Bottoms are such clueless bitches.

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Travel Diary: Headed Home

Headed Back to the Peach State
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Three nights and four loaded asses later, I’m headed home. Interestingly enough, I’d written the “Lies Men Tell” Parts One, Two and Three a little while back but hadn’t scheduled them to run. In fact, I’d written the first drafts before Las Vegas and my first big Catfish.

Of the four men I bred this trip, two had one of the lies and one had two lies in their pocket.

Still, I bred them for whatever reason. Quick and dirty, pump and dump. Not proud and it fucking pisses me off a little.

All men lie. I lie too to get ass. They lie to get dick. I’m not surprised.

Beyond that, this trip to the San Francisco Bay area was a buffet of boy ass. I had lots of options, just chose the wrong ones. There was a private gloryhole of which I wish I’d taken advantage.

Anyway, Atlanta, here I come again. My next trip will be interesting. If you haven’t checked out my travel schedule on BarebackRT.com, you should. It’s not in the U.S. Here’s a graphical hint.

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Off to the Not-So-Wild-West Again

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My CockWell… California…. here I come again. And I hope to cum again and again. LOL. I’ll be arriving on Monday and staying much of the week.

Why I bother sometimes, I’m not sure. I get more hits off BarebackRT.com and Craigslist. In fact, no one ever follows up through here when I head out West.

Anyway, I’m just letting everyone know.

P.S. I’ve updated this with a photo of my cock that I like to use to raw top bottoms. I’ll be staying toward Silicon Valley in East Bay but with easy access to San Francisco, Oakland and San Jose. In fact, I’m sort of in the middle of all of these. And if you’re wondering how to get in touch with me, there’s always my contact page.

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3… 2… 1… BLAST-OFF! The Countdown to iBLASTinside’s Birthday (2 of 3)

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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.

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

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

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

17. Fuck it

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

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

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

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