Another Friday Fuck Fun looks at another Treasure Island Media movie, but this one goes hardcore.
The Romans called sex Insania Nobilis, the Noble Insanity.
Approach real sex, real risk and danger and you’ll feel your brain start to fog up. Get closer to the fire and your IQ plummets lower, lower, lower until you’re a raving buck-in-rut thinking from your lust-gorged crotch.
Treasure Island Media Director and Producer Paul Morris brings exclusives Ethan Wolfe, Jack Allen, Jackson Taylor and John Dahl along with Blue Bailey, B.J. Slater, Chad Brock, Christian Rock, Chris Kohl, Devlin Michaels, The Fucktard, James Roscoe, Jerry Stearns, Lito Cruz, Luca Bondi, Luke Bennett, Nick Moretti, Patrick O’Conner, Sunny, Trasher, Trevor and Ty Roberts to that animalistic place.
Instinct takes over and the men just fuck and breed in this barebacking, bucking and breeding blowout.
This post comes with a heavy heart because I write it about someone I considered a friend. In a way, we were loosely business partners, as I supported his products on my website. Business changed in the last couple of years and, growing vocal protests over me, forced my friend into an untenable position.
Or so it’s conveyed to me.
Look, I know there’s a bunch of flakes online and I’m all about exposing catfish. And people lie. You can’t tell liars via e-mail or Twitter. But I have no reason to believe Jeff is telling a fib, as this issue has developed. I sort of feel sorry for the guy.
I’m also sorry Jeff couldn’t find the strength to stand up.
Those of you online, especially on Twitter, will recognize Jeff as Str8Cam. He’s a hot, muscular straight guy who jacks off online to what was once thousands of horny admirers.
Those numbers have dwindled since the rise of Xtube.com, Tumblr.com and other free sources of porn. Jeff needed another source of income and since his gay-for-pay philosophy extended only so far as jerking off, he landed on a potential gold mine in the form of a lubricant that looked like, felt like and smelled like cum.
Jeff began marketing it at Str8Cam Lube.
Now Jeff isn’t the first to come up with such a thing. Bad-Dragon.com, which offers unusually shaped dildos, also offers its own CumLube (even before Jeff). I’d ordered from them. But Jeff — being directly supportive of a the gay community despite his own disappointing heterosexuality — caused me to switch it up.
Being that I’m a barebacker (and many of my readers are fans of the raw sex and like some spunk), Jeff created a fan base for his product, which he started a second line called SpunkLube to attract a straighter audience.
In the course of my writings, I explain how Jeff’s product might be used as a tool in deceptive practices. By the way, I’ve also discussed the use of many other brand name products including Durex Rainbow Condoms, Vaseline, etc., in similar methods.
Jeff didn’t know I included him. Neither did Bad Dragon nor Durex.
Threats continued against Jeff and his products. Even though his products are condom safe (and plenty of lube makers create condom-unfriendly lubricants), Jeff is being punished for something I’ve written.
Jeff has asked me to take my posts down. He’s asked me to remove reference to his products. I won’t.
What I am doing is explaining to you all, dear readers, how someone has been unfairly maligned for something that they have no right to be.
Jeff is a public figure and he gets naked and jerks off on camera practically daily. And while I may be suggesting his product be misused, it’s no different than someone not following the recipe on the back of a Duncan Hines cake box or playing Monopoly with my own set of rules.
Why people have chosen to single-out Jeff, I have no idea. It makes me wonder if there’s some retribution because Jeff, in his non-judgmental approach to all gays — even barebackers. He chats with us all on Twitter.
While I don’t make a dime from this, allow me to suggest you all still support Jeff. But please, do not purchase Str8Cam Lube or SpunkLube from a store. Purchase it directly from Jeff’s websites. And if you’re really feeling generous, join his jerk-off website at Str8Cam.com.
If it upsets you a little too much, consider purchasing Bad Dragon’s CumLube instead. It’s practically the same thing.
And if you’re one of the bullies fucking around with this muscleman’s wallet, fucking stop it.
Postscript
Show Jeff some love. Follow him on Twitter and tell him you support him, his products and his right to sell to whomever he pleases. And if you’re a barebacker, let him know that too. His Twitter name is @Str8Cam.
Whenever you hear someone say, “I’m not racist,” they’re about to spout something racist. And so I believe when folks say they’re not judgmental.
Of late, a quiet storm of hate — you can attempt to call it disapproval, dismay or other such terms, but it truly boils down to hate — has spread to the corners of the Internet. It’s generated a kind of peer pressure, not unlike the vocal Tea Party. A small minority within the majority. And those people, the squeaky wheels, have created a disproportionate voice among the many to silence a voice that had finally begun to rise.
Barebacking is not an activity of the minority of positive men who are about to die anyway. Recent scientific surveys revealed about half of gay men engage in raw sex. And that outrages the conservative wing of the gay vocals.
It’s in quiet corners but it’s having an impact. I’m going to share what’s happening over the next couple of entries. I’ve written about some things. And to many who claim not to be judgmental, those folks seem to enjoy calling me and others brutal names and attempting at humor to blunt something nothing less than radical right hatred.
Explaining Myself
I do want to thank those who write me small notes of encouragement when they see, hear and read the attacks.
My blog is about me and all the dichotomies I embody and, without reading everything, some choose to select entries and judge me based on those. But I choose to believe we all struggle with our place on the planet and, no matter how sincere that sounds, someone’s going to twist that into me sounding something other than sincere.
I understand that I fuck my way through man after man, sometimes through a gloryhole, and that “intimate” act could seem anything but intimate. Some of my friends consider fucking as friendly as “hello” and the most intimate act being a French kiss. I’ve put myself into the handler space and attempted a little pup play, but that just never floated my boat. It’s not my place to attack those choices if one chooses to belittle another.
Perhaps my occasional need to have the opportunity to use a hole comes from being used myself as a molested child and unusual urges that wanted it to happen sometimes. Perhaps I’m just an asshole that way.
However, I never force anyone to back their ass up to a gloryhole. I don’t have a leash or a whip. No one’s been trained or chained.
I started this blog as an exploration of my sexual being and my life. It’s become much more than that. I’m not apologizing for my humanity. And the explanation of who I am isn’t over. The day the blog ends is the day that explanation is over.
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.
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.
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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iBLASTinside’s Friday Fuck Fun takes a look at Treasure Island Media’s movie “Overload” from British director Liam Cole.
Liam Cole captures 20 men in search of sexual OVERLOAD, the dangerous state where a man is consumed by sex, where there’s no thought and no feeling beyond fucking or being fucked. Feel it once and you’ll need it again and again, for the rest of your life.
The film features bareback sex with Christian, Peto Coast, Dean Monroe, Jake Ascott, Yuri, Jake Mitchell, Priam, Anton Dickson, Chris Front, Luke Pascoe, Sebastian Slater, Paul Mann, Rob Tyler, Scott Williams and Harley Everett.
You might notice in that list Chris Front, the hardcore raw top who was interviewed on this very website. Be sure and check this one out.
Another Friday Fuck Fun looks at another Treasure Island Media movie, but this one goes hardcore.
. So there’s a nice DNA connection to this movie.
Durex Rainbow Condoms, Vaseline, etc., in similar methods.
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