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Fuck Fuck Fuck

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Fucks

I’ve been traveling a lot. And it doesn’t look like it will let up anytime soon. And I’ve been fucking lucky.

Literally.

The ass in each city ends up being hot, hot, hot.

If I tried to write about every ass and each encounter, you’d all love it — I know. But I don’t have time. I’m just that busy.

Allow me to summarize some of the highlights.

Mid-Atlantic Tropical Hot Ass

I usually advertise my arrival in advance of my arrival. My ads usually announce that a top blogger is coming to town, looking for some bottom inspiration. I require some basic information from those who want to learn about the blog, since a vast majority of people just want the jerk off material.

I don’t mind. But I want to get a glimpse of who’s going to see it.

Occasionally, some people know who it is. Or they figure it out quickly. These are my fan fuck plans. Some people can be dedicated fans, who read up on me in great details. Others are just the guys who read me when it’s time to jerk off.

This young, very tan man hits me up and begins begging.

Now you have to understand. The younger the bottom, the less reliable. Young men in their twenties are notorious unreliable. I’ve made plans with hem in cities only to end up with a dry dick in hand.

This one really seemed genuine.

And not to bore you with details, he worked out well considering that this time, I ended up running late. He arrived after I finally got into my hotel room. Without hesitation, he worked into an embrace and kiss.

A good kiss.

His sucking worked at getting me hard. But when I finally got into his hairy ass, the fucking tight ass proved to be phenomenal.

Too phenomenal.

It’s been a while since I’ve bred someone three times in a row. But this little fucker kept me hard through all three. I never really slowed down. Of course, I’d been saving up a little. His exotic mixture of Latin and native tropics. A little hair on his chest and these juicy nipples.

His ass never truly loosened up.

If I ever slipped out, this bottom would let out an exasperated plea to put it back in.

I never went soft. His talent seemed unending to keep me hard. He’d read about where to touch me, how to keep me interested and what to do to arouse me.

He is someone who will be fucked again.

University City Slut

It’s summertime, so most of the college kids are at home, screwing around there and not at school. Just my luck I get to go to the midwest and a town that’s pretty much nothing but a university-supported town.

There’s a small contingency of college kids around — too many of them catfish (fakes who claim to want fucking). I’d just about given up.

I’d messaged a guy on BarebackRT.com before my arrival and, well, he pops back online. I invite him over and, 30 minutes later, this thirtysomething is sucking my cock on my hotel room bed.

We went into fuck mode and his neg hole is just begging me to squirt my load inside him a coat his insides fulls of my DNA.

I do.

All you have to do is beg. And this bottom does.

It’s after all the fucking, with us winded on such an intense session, that he admits to having known who I was, loving my blog and basically wanting to find out if he could really feel it “blast inside.”

(Yes, he could feel it.)

He’d gone to dinner with friends and ditched them between the restaurant and the club to swing by and get fucked by me. But we’d promised for a more extensive session next time.

My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know I’m a Slutty Bottom

Occasionally, one of those 20-year-old guys with an impossibly smooth body e-mails me. I figure the photo has been Photoshopped until there’s not a freckle, not a blemish and no stray hairs.

I’m in Texas and on BarebackRT.com when this little fucker e-mails me, volunteering to come take my load. I tell him the hotel. He asks the room. I give it. He says 15 minutes.

And in 17 minutes, there’s a knock at my door. A gorgeous boy walks in, lithe, tall, Latin and beautiful. His shirt is coming off as he steps into the room. He isn’t hesitating.

His chest is perfect. Just barely definition but no imperfections. Anywhere.

The lights are down low because I fucking hate the harsh lighting of hotels. He flips an end-table light on, its florescent yellow blinking into cold existence. But this boy’s skin is still perfect, reflecting the seamless skin with just a peach fuzz of hair that tingles as I run my fingers over it.

He’s naked now and grabbing for my pants.

He sucks me. I was already hard. He slobbers all over my cock. He thumbs his huge uncut cock a little as he comes up and kisses me with the perfect thick lips and then turns around and lines up my cock with his perfect little pucker.

And he pushes.

I’m inside him.

This insatiable boy just begins to ride. But I can’t be a passive top. I move him into a few positions and I pummel him.

He begs for my cum. He says he wants it bad. Please give it to him. I do. I load him up deep.

I lay in the glow afterward, letting my fingertips run over this perfect boy’s skin.

As we talk, it turns out I’m the fourth load in him tonight, although he’d cleaned out for me — I jokingly scold him for doing that. He assures me I’m the first of many loads as he leaves me for a few more.

His boyfriend is working tonight. He’s out for as many loads as possible. And he takes all loads. Doesn’t matter. Oh, he’s a little picky. Hard cocks only.

Never heard of my blog. Couldn’t care less. He just wanted my cum. He just wanted me to blast inside.

Straight Boy and Gay Bottom

In a southern city, I’ve chosen a ginger to fuck. He finally arrives. When he walks in, I recognize him immediately.

He’s straight. He’s a straight bottom. (Yes, they exist.)

He walks in and basically gets to sucking me. Nothing nice about it. He’s not very good, but it’s enough to harden me up. I step behind him and slick my cock up when he mentioned he has a condom.

I don’t protest. I put it on. At least, that’s what he sees. He lines it up with his hole, feeling the condom on it but after it goes in his hole, I pull it out and pull off the condom in a single motion and slide back inside. As soon as I’m in him bare I feel it.

His asshole is throbbing.

Damn inexperienced bottoms.

He’s shooting his load all over my bed.

Pisses me off a little, but I’ve been inside him raw and he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and that’s why he shot off so quick.

He liked it raw.

He’s out the door and I’m on the prowl again. I don’t find another taker until the next day… this a gay guy who just had this terrific body. I didn’t see a face. I get a little concerned when I don’t see a face at all.

He walks in an angel, with these stunning eyes.

We get to the act quickly, although I wanted to take my time. And we fuck for longer than I intended because I want to give him the best I can.

He enjoys it.

We finally kiss as he leaves a load lighter and a load heavier.

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Happy Ending Erotic Therapeutic Massage Atlanta

Temporary Visitor Chad Makes for a Great Addition to Atlanta’s Massage Therapist Scene

See the other Atlanta Massage Therapists Opens new window of a page on this blog previously reviewed.

Chad Turns Blond into Gold-Star Service

Chad-Massage-TherapistChad

Profile on MasseurFinder.com as Chad Open-New-Window-External
Inactive profile on MassageM4M.com as Chad Open-New-Window-External
His online cell is listed as (323) 899-7688

Highlights

bullet Chad earn the best rating of all 10 currently reviewed therapists
bullet 33 years old, 6 feet tall, 175 pounds, dirty blond with unshaven look, light blue eyes and 7 inches cut

bullet Massages in the nude with light body hair, nicely trimmed where it needs to be
bullet Mutual touch is allowed and the way he maneuvers, it’s practically encouraged
bullet His massage is Swedish based and on a bed in his hotel room, as he’s currently traveling the country
bullet In the Atlanta area, he’s currently staying
I-85 near Druid Hills Road but that could change
bullet When he leaves Atlanta, he’ll be in Nashville, Knoxville, Arkansas and eventually San Francisco

Update

bullet Pissed off about this review; see his response Opens new window of a page on this blog
bullet Leaves Atlanta on March 17, 2013
bullet Chad does NOT bareback Opens new window of a page on this blog

four-out-of-five-stars rating

Atlanta’s massage therapists Opens new window of a page on this blog bring a certain lackluster approach to their skills. I’ve tried a few and am looking to try more. It’s a challenge because most massage therapists don’t seem to know a damn thing about customer service (but that’s another entry).

What I want to write about is Chad.

For the past month or so, I’ve been seeking a good therapist who knows a thing or two about connecting with a client. I’ve been able to get a decent massage — at least technically good. The therapist will find the knots, work it out for a while, make me feel some pain.

A little while later, the therapist will make me feel good.

But all the while, this gulf is between us. We are two people, going through motions and not sensing how the other feels.

I wrote a long while back about my two Filipino massage therapists Opens new window of a page on this blog, one of whom I had when I lived in Washington, D.C. This guy had the most incredible body, was half my age, but during our massage could find this weird space that created a kind of mindmeld where the two of us would synchronize.

Look, I do not get off on a blowjob, much less a handjob. But with a few strokes after his build up, this guy had be blasting all over myself.

Back to Chad

Let’s just say things could have been rocky with Chad. I’d like to say he’s a little down on his luck, but his attitude seems so cheerful as he’s figuring out where he wants to go. Or maybe he’s just a wandering gypsy nowadays. He has some adventures to tell, I’m sure. But he made it easy to set things up and I met him.

Like me, his sense of humor is a little twisted. And since his hotel room is so damn small, he can’t really accommodate a massage table.

Chads-ass-Massage-TherapistThank God.

His technique allowed this kind of luxurious relaxed posed where he’d lounge next to me. It wasn’t so much trying to get his dick to touch my leg as the fact his body would just naturally seem to fit up against me.

He started with my legs, which seemed a little weird. Then he worked up to my back. When he got to my shoulders, he almost cradled me in his arms and across his smooth (and trimmed) chest.

Was it hot? Not. It was comfortable. And erotic. I mean, just felt right. Strangely so.

I truly enjoyed his skill, although he never really integrated deep tissue. He picked up intrinsically on those points of my body that provided more pleasure and worked them expertly.

He just connected with me. We connected together. It was unspoken. In fact, when we spoke, I don’t know if we got along. But when we didn’t speak, he could weave some magic between us.

Best Massage Therapist Reviewed Yet

The quality of the lotion could be much better, as it seemed to be generic and not meant to be for massage. And cleaning up with tissue paper rather than a towel didn’t really work for me. I think if those two had been in place, I’d definitely given him another half star to put him at 4½.

Still, his 4-star rating earns Chad the best rating of all the massage therapists Opens new window of a page on this blog I’ve seen in the area (and, frankly, out of the area) in recent years.

I hope Chad let’s me know where he’s going so I can see him again. It will be well worth visiting him again. And while he’s in the Atlanta area, I encourage you all to seek him out and book an appointment.

bullet_square_green        bullet_square_green        bullet_square_green

Want to be included in my massage therapist or escort review list?

If you would like to be reviewed, feel free to contact Mark Bentson at his contact page Opens a new window from this blog or via e-mail iblastinside@gmail.com . These entries are at the discretion of Mark Bentson and in no way would any services provided to Mark guarantee or indicate any review (positive or negative) may or may not appear on these pages Opens new window of a page on this blog.

Reviews of male escorts, companions and massage therapists in the Atlanta area are included here. Mark also provides training to those escorts, companions and massage therapists as well as marketing services such as web, e-mail, blog and social media advice for compensation and barter. Mark can maximize the financial intake you receive by teaching you basics Opens a new window from this blog  as well as advanced techniques.

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I don’t ask to be fucked every day….

I don’t ask to be fucked every day….

In fact, asking to be fucked is rare. In fact, mentioning getting fucking on this blog can be handled on one hand — that’s out of more than 500 entries and pages. That’s less and 1 percent. The conversation I had with my top suitor — a man who definitely did not want to experience my cock up his ass — had already been ruled out.

He’s not a porn star by any stretch of the imagination. If he wanted to step into the porn world, he might be able to do so, but his ambitions lie elsewhere. And I does have a few extraordinary talents to share with the world.

But the confidence of talent fails to leak into other portions of his world. He cannot say he’ll fuck me. So I’m left without a cock. And right now, Mason Wyler Open-New-Window-External hasn’t stepped in to confirm he’ll fill my hole.

I’m not taking any cock. It must be a special cock attached to a special guy who will give it to me to the explosive end.

Accepting applications now Opens new window of a page on this blog.

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Happy Ending Erotic Therapeutic Massage Atlanta

Atlanta Massage Therapists Highlighted in New Section on iBLASTinside.com

Already I’ve head from a few people they love the new section where I highlight the massage therapists from Atlanta. I wanted to highlight the people who provide good therapeutic service but also add that little extra — that is, add on a happy ending to the process. I believe this is a must to any good massage.

I know some of you will protest. I don’t give a shit. I think most straight and gay men alike will agree this is what men really need to achieve a good experience.

Fuck.

I believe women would prefer it too.

So here’s the page you can find it at, my Massage M4M page Opens new window of a page on this blog.

Below are the reviews currently available.

Enjoy.

Evaluation Criteria

I am using the following to evaluate and grade each massage therapist:

  • The therapist’s ability to provide a good therapeutic massage;
  • Connect on an emotional and/or spiritual level with the client (me);
  • And provide a basic happy ending (preferably without requiring me to jerk myself off or even snort poppers Opens a new window from this blog).

Therapists earn more for their techniques, abilities, value and sensuality. And if a therapist happens to bareback, that’s a huge bonus, of course. But that won’t save you from a bad review (just check out Daved below, who’s so tweaked out isn’t worth it).

Atlanta’s Male Massage Therapists, Masseurs & bodywork specialists

Listed in Alphabetical order based on their known names (many are not their “real” names).

one-and-a-half stars out of five rating

Antonio

PRO: Hot Latino, great body, available nude
CON: Rush, can’t massage, extra cost to get you off

two-and-a-half-stars out of five stars ratingEcstasy-Spa-Bryan-Massage

Bryan Kelly

aka Ecstasy Spa or Mixed Massage Arts

PRO: Nice body, friendly
CON: Costly, older than advertised, intense smoker

two-out-of-five-stars rating

Muscle-bound Daved? David isn't like this any moreDaved

aka David

PRO: Barebacks, bottoms, once had a great body
CON: Tweaked out, rough skin

three-out-of-five-star rating

Haixing

aka Lucky Good Hands

PRO: Actually massages well, sexually teases, inexpensive
CON: No happy ending, no privacy, no nudity

four-out-of-five-stars ratingChest of Ramses or TheBestHandsGA Massage Therapist

Ramses

aka TheBestHands or TheBestHandsGA

PRO: Great massages, beautiful body
CON: Doesn’t like mutual touch, afraid of cum

two-and-a-half-stars out of five stars ratingAveda-Robert-Massage

Robert

aka Aveda Robert

PRO: Inconsistent massage quality, very chatty
CON: Relies on Aveda products, afraid of cum

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Fucking a beefy bottom!

Recognition

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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