Tag Archives: begging bottom

Coming Soon… Getting Old

Coming Soon… Getting Old

Another birthday approaches and this old bull gets a little older. The awkward prime number 43 goes away and I earn 44. It’s suddenly weird to think myself at twice of 22, meaning if you’re 22, I could have easily been your father. Fuck, had you been in your 20s at all — even 29 — I had the means to be your father (yes, I could easily produce sperm at 15, although I’d never get anywhere near a vagina).

So what should I do to celebrate?

Alas, this year looks slender since the ole job search lumbers on. I have hope of relocation soon into the Midwest or even far West, but the opportunities wax and wane. I attempt to remain optimistic.

Optimism proves to be difficult on all fronts, but I’m sure some of you enjoy reading that, as I have heard of a few flaming with hatred. I don’t quite get it.

So this be nothing more than thoughts of nothing much as I contemplate that moment of 44.

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It’s Official: I Have Fucked BOTH Matt AND Dan

It’s Official: I Have Fucked BOTH Matt AND Dan

For those of you who follow barebacking blogs, you will know of Matt & Dan’s Sexual Adventures (which currently is available with limited access — and don’t ask, I can’t give you access).

Last night, I fucked Dan. Previously, I fucked Matt. Dan has been trying to think and, at the moment, cannot think of anyone who has actually fucked them both. After a consultation with Matt, I might be certified as the first — or among the first.

Dan tweeted last night about our little adventure…

Dan: hot night: got royally fucked by @iblastinside. He came to my hotel, I waited ass up, naked in the dark, he came in, got undressed…
…we started making out, flipped around, I lubed up & climbed on @iblastinside’s cock, he started fucking… not a word spoken, then…
…@iblastinside whispers “do you want my load” – makes me beg for it – then when he cums I feel his cock pulse… #bbbh
…my ass is wet with @iblastinside’s cum, he feeds more to me & we kiss. We make plans to meet again later this week… #bbbh

Dan neglected to mention the second load I gave him later, whispering in his ear the story about fucking the 18-year-old recently.

Oh well. I’ll remind him later this week.

And, of course, I’ll write about my fucks in detail sometime.

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Quiet top looking for a bottom

Quiet top looking for a bottom

What I post on Craigslist sometimes… it often gets flagged.

I don’t want a lot of back and forth. Ideally, there’s none. If you’re as slutty as I hope and you crave cum like a bottom should, the first e-mail to me should be your pic and your location.

You know your place is to be a bottom… a place for me to get pleasure. I don’t care whether you get anything out of it. I don’t care whether you’re ready or not. I don’t give a shit if you’re straight or bi or gay, old or young, hot or not. You are for a topman’s pleasure and nothing more. Your mouth and ass are available for my use.

I will fuck, mouth then ass. I might switch back and forth, so if you don’t like the taste of shit, then your ass better be clean.

I am quiet. I am not loud. I don’t yell. I don’t have to make a noise to fucking tear your ass up, use you, zip up and kick your ass out. I don’t care if you cum.

Since you’ll probably ask, I’m 43 years old with brown hair and brown eyes. I’m 6 foot 3 inches tall at 210 pounds, so it’s pretty tall and average. I love poppers, so have some available. If you want lube, make sure it’s on or in your ass. I just prefer spit — yours.

I have a 7 inch cut cock that’s pretty damn thick. I’m neg, exclusively top and honestly don’t pay much attention to who I fuck. If you’re hot, even better. If you’re not, your ass better be damn good.

Have fresh poppers for my use. Be available. Want it. Or don’t bother me. It’s not based on your convenience. It’s based on mine.

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Fuck Fuck Fuck

Breeding a Redneck Behind an Abandoned House

The last week or so kept me busy for a variety of reasons and, for whatever the reason, I’ve just not had the luck with getting ass. In fact, I’d been saving up loads for a potential good fuck visiting from out of town but that quickly turned into a bust when I didn’t hear from him. So much for being a good guy. So my balls are full and I’m about to fucking bust last night.

Making matters worse, a great case of insomnia kicks in. Sunday nights should be good since the weekend is ending. Most who are horny and wanting more seek it out Sunday night, especially tweakers (who aren’t my favorite but when you’re horny, you’ll take it). And considering the time change this weekend, I’m thinking it’s going to be especially good.

As I’m cruising online, the e-mails arrive steadily and the selections are pretty good. But when it comes right down to it, I just can’t get anyone to make the commitment to get out the door and meet. It’s soon 4 a.m. and I’m fucking screwed, so I finally try to find a little restless sleep. Even so, I’m up at 8:45 and find a dozen or more new e-mails waiting for me and continue on my quest.

I’m not jerking off. That would not satisfy. It takes a fuck.

Among the latest lot, we soon narrow down to a 24-year-old redneck up the road from me.

And when I mean up the road, I mean north. I’m north of Atlanta, so he’s way north, another 15 or so miles.

He can’t come down to see me since, it turns out, he’d recently lost his license and, as any good redneck, still lived with his folks. The distance was just too far to go and get him and bring him back home. But he knew of some “private places” near by.

Hitting the interstate, which ended not far from his exit, I headed his way. I texted him as I left the highway about 30 minutes later and within a few minutes, was turning down a one-lane road, barely paved at all.

A lone figure in the distance as I crested a hill could be seen walking along. Indeed, probably about 24 years old, shortly cropped hair with a reddish tint and a four- or five-day beard. He hopped in the truck with only the suggestion to turn around.

He was beefy but pale-faced with freckles. We headed back to the two-lane road and drove a couple of miles before he spoke again and suggested we turn down a dirt road distinguished only by an old, beaten mailbox.

The four-wheel drive took the rough road with ease as we came up to an unmarked railroad crossing and then a muddy patch before coming up to a clearing. The old house had certainly seen better days but someone had tried to revitalize it with bright paint on the exposed wood, now some of it peeling away.

Its old tin roof now red, jutting up from the crisp green bushes that hid much of the house from everything. Around back the crumbling , gray structure we’d still call a barn had never housed any animals. And on this warm day, the dandelions, swayed a little in the moist air that promised a little rain later on.

I shut the truck off but he didn’t want to get out. He just stared at my crotch. I backed up a bit and whipped out my half-hard cock and let him see it. He pounced on it and began sucking.

His exertion and the heat of sex soon got the greenhouse effect going and we were both sweating, even though I was just leaning back and letting him do the work. I suggested we step outside.

He talked more than he’d ever before as we got out and began looking around for a way into the old house. An old side porch off the kitchen offered the best refuge from onlookers — which seemed to have him paranoid. Obviously, this old place was used as a fuck house around here. I could have cared less, but he wanted some place. He dropped to his knees immediately and I whipped my cock out.

He sucked but a couple of seconds in said, “If you want to fuck me, just say so.”

“I want to fuck you.”

He didn’t bother to get up but turned around on all fours, pulling down his pants and exposing his white ass.

A huge ass with a deep crevice, his hole was an angry red, as he’d obviously scrubbed it before our meeting. I spit, adding to his and shoved my cock toward his hole.

He didn’t like it but took it like a champ. In a moment, with that country slur, he was begging for me to cum in his ass. I didn’t feel like prolonging the inevitable and I released my spunk into his big white ass. Several days worth. Our position didn’t allow me to push it deep, but the boy wanted it and he kept it.

We were back in the truck in moments and back at the two-lane, me driving him to his original destination — a gas station convenience store, where I left him.

He hopped out, thanked me. With great precision, he spit on the sidewalk. I drove home, moderately satisfied, but needing a nap.

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Justifying Barebacking

Justifying Barebacking

The Bareback Brotherhood and its recent growth forced a certain justification debate that, quite frankly, I should not engage. However, I do love a good debate when I can find someone with an open enough mind in which to discuss barebacking rationally.

Few people will, even though when the lights are off, condoms never come out of the packages.

As most men debate, they will admit to having bareback sex — just not condoning it. It’s funny to watch Gays in the same place as the right-wing lawmakers who persecutes GLBT rights only later to find they’re sitting in airport bathrooms tapping their feet hoping for a beneath the stall wall blowjob. It baffles my mind they cannot see the hypocritical stands they themselves take.

I’m getting off on a Dennis Miller-style rant. Let me back off.

This entry jumps around a little. I want to address a variety of issues and explain bareback sex in a logical, straightforward manner. If your mind if closed, stop reading now. Go somewhere else and leave me alone. And don’t bother leaving a response, especially something including negative feedback, I’ll simply delete it.

Why Do You Bareback?

I always answer this question with a collection of questions:

  • Do you smoke?
  • Do you drink?
  • Do you do recreational drugs?
  • Do you eat fast food?
  • Do you drink too much caffeine?
  • Do you drive too fast?
  • Do you always wear your seatbelt?
  • Do you do things that risk your well-being?

Answer “yes” to any of the above and, well, you’re risking your life too.

Smoking Kills More

Smoking is my favorite to talk about. Spend literally thousands of dollars a year sucking in toxins into a body, purposely addicting it to carcinogens. With every puff, destroy cells that feed oxygen to blood and, eventually, the brain. Those lung cells never heal. That mild buzz that’s created just for the smoker. The hazy exhale of waste pollutes the air. Clothes stink. With every additional puff, someday the smoker will likely get heart disease, cancer or chronic obstructed pulmonary disorder.

The number one leading cause of death: Heart disease. The number two leading cause of death: Cancer. Of the top eight leading causes of death, smoking contributes to six of them (http://www.time.com/time/interactive/0,31813,1911060,00.html).

In a discussion with an 18-year-old Twitter user, he told me, “One cigarette won’t kill you.”

My response was, “How many cigarettes did you have yesterday? I bet the answer is more than one.”

There’s no human contact with smoking. There’s a transfer of cash to big companies and, well, you destroy the environment a little bit more. And there’s nothing “safe” about smoking. There’s no safe option to smoking other than quitting entirely.

Drinking and Drugs

I’ll be the first to admit that I enjoy a good booze fest every once in a while. And while I have never, ever partook in an illegal substance in my life, I think that solving America’s budget crisis could be in legalizing marijuana. While some medical professionals have stated healthy effects for these substances, I’ll bet most of the Gay community’s use of these surpasses the  healthy stage and runs right into the excess.

Have It Your Way with an Espresso Shot

America has become a country of obesity. We eat too much unhealthy food. I can’t speak for the rest of the world, so the fast food argument has to be one reserved just for the Yanks.

I want to add that we’ve packaged the entire planet into individual ketchup packets. Our fast food nation is about keeping us in our cars and away from each other. Our dinner and lunch and breakfast comes conveniently in Earth-raping Styrofoam containers for our carbon-monoxide spewing cars. And we need that Five-Hour Energy Drink to make it through the day.


By this point, I’ve made my point. Everyone of us on this planet is doing stupid shit. We do it because it tastes good, it feels good, it gets us there faster, it makes us feel better, we enjoy life more.

But of all the life-risking things on this list, every single one is ultimately something you’re doing alone. Even if you’re with someone else, they’re not connected to you. There’s a disconnect. There’s no intimacy in a donut at Krispy Kreme.

My Life, My Choice

Every barebacker has his reason for going raw. For me, I just got tired of fear. I tried to pretend I wanted to be “safer, ” knowing the full risks with every single act I did from a wet kiss to a blowjob. Then that moment came when it was my “boyfriend” and we could switch to being raw because I “trusted” him only to find out later that the “trust” wasn’t quite solid.

The proverbial straw on the camel’s back? This guy I’d pursued for a while. At the time, I was single but he had a boyfriend. He came over and with some heavy petting behind us, we jerked each other off. That was it. Not even any oral. In my 20s, you could satisfy me with the simplest acts.

A day later, he calls me frantically. He’s gotten a paper cut. A paper cut. Let me stress: A paper cut.

He got the paper cut after our encounter.

Further, he got it on his left hand. He’d jerked me off with his right hand.

He wanted to make sure I didn’t have HIV.

Now, fucktards like that shouldn’t piss me off. But that did. Idiots who didn’t know how HIV was transmitted and somehow thought that I might infect him a couple of days after just irritated me.

Then I just decided why should it bother me? Why should I — or anyone — live in that much fear?

A bus could kill me tomorrow. I could die of a million other things, why shouldn’t I experience intimacy I enjoy with a man?

The Top Five Myths of Bareback Sex

I want to dispel a few other myths about barebackers.

1. All barebackers carry disease or infection.

Contrary to perception, men who bareback are both positive and negative. In fact, what you might find among those who bareback is greater awareness of their sero status as well as any sexually transmitted infections (or STIs) in their pasts as well as the appropriate treatments sought. Barebackers are more likely to honestly speak about their status and engage with their potential partners in open dialog comfortably because this is part of their daily lives. They go into every sexual situation perfectly aware of the potential for any infection and are more up to date than most.

2. Barebacking with my boyfriend or within a monogamous relationship is perfectly okay.

Barebacking is barebacking, regardless whether it’s a boyfriend you’ve known for six months or four years. And the young ones reading this won’t believe it because their hearts are aflutter but one or both of them will cheat at some point in the relationship. Oh, you might not bareback fuck, but HIV and other STIs can come through other means (like sucking cock without a condom). Let me give you a scenario I know that happened with one couple. They went together to a strip bar — no cheating at all! One spent a little “quality time” with a stripper sucking his cock and ended up with herpes. Gave the herpes to the other partner. This causes breaks in the skin. Do you know how easily a tiny virus like HIV can slip in?

3. Barebacking is bugchasing.

For those of you who might not be familiar, bugchasing is someone who is HIV negative deliberately searching out HIV-positive men to engage in dangerously unsafe activities in order to “convert” to positive. Some bugchasers would go so far to inject the blood of other men into their own veins. Now that’s really extreme. But just having bareback sex with others isn’t necessarily bugchasing. Bugchasers are a small segment of the barebacking community. However, not all negative barebackers want to become positive. Many barebackers practice something called sero-segregation, where negative men prefer to fuck with other negatives and positive men insist on fucking other positive men.

4. Barebackers have raw sex 100% of the time.

Not true. Even if you becoming a member of the Bareback Brotherhood, it doesn’t mean you’ll never use a condom. The BBBH formed because barebacking is a legitimate and honest option. In fact, most Gay men probably engage in it at some point or another. Just because you advocate bareback sex doesn’t mean you exclude condom sex. That happens to be a choice I personally have made — and like most condom Nazis, a rule I occasionally break.

5. Barebackers have low self esteem or are suicidal.

I have no death wish. I do not want my life shortened. In fact, I would say barebacking allows me to experience life more fully. Because I know myself, I know my desires and I know who I am, I can say my self awareness sits where it should be. I have found barebackers to be more aware of who they are than most of those who use condoms — or say they use condoms.

A Few More Friends & Situations

I have many friends with whom I can speak frankly, some of whom use condoms. I have one who always uses condoms except when he has an encounter with a “straight” man. Now, this friend lives in a small town in the middle of no where. His perception of who a straight man is depends on whether the man is sneaking around on his wife or what-not. Still, it baffles me. He’ll slap on the condom with an 18-year-old college student who’s barely ever done anything but some thirtysomething man with a southern twang and we’re talking raw rider.

Another friend of mine waits until the third or fourth date then, in a heated moment without any discussion, he’ll reach down and rip the condom off and sit back down on the throbbing cock.

One acquaintance on Twitter with the words “slutty bottom” refuses to include #BBBH even though he’s a barebacker because he’s afraid his teenage followers (under the age of 18) will think it’s “safe” to bareback. Never mind he’s tweeting about fucking and he should block anyone 17 and younger as it’s totally inappropriate for them to read.

I am on a few hookup sites not specializing in bareback sex and often, other members will include in their profiles that they prefer those who are “safer only.”

Nine times out of 10, this is about what happens after the initial icebreaker discussion:

[alert style=”green”]Him: “Want to get together and fuck?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re not compatible.”

Him: “What do you mean? You said you’re a top. I’m a bottom. Come over and fuck me.”

Me: “Yea, well, your profile says, ‘Safer Only.’ I only bareback.”

Usually there’s a little pause.

Him: “Well that’s cool. You can fuck me raw. Just don’t cum inside me. Okay?”

Me: “Sorry man. I always make deposits when I fuck.”

Another pause.

Him: “That’s really getting me hot. How soon can you come over?”[/alert]

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