Tag Archives: darkened room

Stealthing, Stealth, Stealth Fucking

Q&A: Just Pozzed Out and My Viral Load Is High. Should I Continue to Stealth?

Occasionally, I get e-mails from my readers asking questions. With permission, I answer them here.

 

QuestionI love your blog and your stories. I’m a versatile and sometimes get fucked and sometimes do the fucking. I since I’ve hit 30, I just really couldn’t stand using the condoms any more. But some guys insisted.

Then I found your blog. And read all about the whole stealth thing.

I get your point. You wrote about it as a warning to guys but you know, a lot of people are dumb and all. I had to get the cum in my ass and I needed to breed too. I made lots of condoms with pinprick holes. I always had condoms on me. Fuck, I even had friends ask me and I gave them away. I’ve left them around sleazy gay bars.

I finally got a poz test, which doesn’t bother me at all. Barebacking is a hotter experience now. Now I really think I’m breeding a guy and it’s taking hold.

My viral load is high. Man, I’m toxic, with millions swimming in me. I’m trying to decide if I want to go on meds or just continue to fuck my way through the world for a while.

But I’m having second thoughts about stealthing or slipping one of my special condoms on a top fucking me.

What would you do?

 

AThe question is where you meet these potential fucks.

There’s this hideous gasp among some fags that an anonymous hook-up should be an honest exchange of information and despite the numerous dishonest exchange about age, weight, etc. prior to someone’s dick going in someone else’s mouth, it’s some sort of cardinal sin if a condom isn’t used.

Never mind how we kill ourselves with crystal meth, smoking and booze.

But those choices are addictions and diseases while bareback fucking is wrong, wrong, wrong!

In my opinion, you should go on meds. Anything to keep more bareback fuckers fucking, I’m in favor. It’s between you and your doctor how aggressive  you want to be with the millions of friends you’ve got swimming around inside you now.

(And for any chasers, let me know who you are and I’ll consider sharing my toxic buddy’s info with you — with his permission — share his with you. You might want to include a pic.)

When I stealth, it’s usually a place like an adult bookstore or sex club. I was just there the other day and the fucking bottom I slipped my cock into pulled me out and insisted I wear a condom.

He didn’t provide one, mind you. I needed one.

I provided one. And he got a nice ride out of it and I got what I wanted. Interestingly enough, he kept checking to see if the condom was on, so I couldn’t rip it off. I didn’t need to do so because the fucker missed the point.

You want to be “safe,” you control the scene.

I brought my own “condoms,”  which in the darkened room he couldn’t see each one lacked the full tip (not just the pinhole prick you use).

Guess what fucker? You were loaded!

Now this little tweaker, who was in a darkroom and never saw me or anyone else who fucked his hole. If I know what goes down in these dastardly places, I also wasn’t the only one to stealth that day.

Let’s discuss the logistics of the whole thing.

The guy I fucked was a slut. And while there’s plenty of DNA evidence in his ass, who’s to say the condom didn’t fail or, despite my words here, he didn’t give me a condom that was broken and I was the one duped. As we both know, that’s a possibility as well.

If you’re inviting men over to your place and fucking them at your house… well, that’s just another story. I’d personally never use the broken condom bit in private one-on-one condom bit.

Spike-ItThat said, I have (on occasion) not honored the request to “pull out” in a timely manner. If the bottom is stupid to let me inside to play, I’m going to finish the game and score the touchdown. Truth is, most of the time they end up begging for it there anyway.

I’d also be a little careful about distributing sabotaged condoms. Anyone to simply pickup free condoms and expect them to work are stupid, but your fingerprints are probably on them and, well, I’d hate for some vengeful faggot to track you down (and in your city, they would).

After all this chatter, let’s boil it down:

Yes, Do…

  • Fuck raw. If the opportunity presents itself, fuck raw.
  • Go on meds. 
  • While you’re toxic, seek out chasers and gift. 
  • Stealth in sleazy places where bareback sex is the norm.
  • Stealth as a bottom.

No, Don’t…

  • Distribute sabotaged condoms anymore anywhere. 
  • Stealth as a top in one-on-one hook-ups

Best of luck and enjoy your new status. And don’t let the Aryan bastards get you down.

 

I love the occasional questions, so please send them along to iblastinside@gmail.com.

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We Started at a Glory Hole

We Started at a Glory Hole

For some reason, Inserection proved to be a little busy that day. I’d been sucked by a few men. None stood out. He’d been running a little late. But eventually showed up and we secured a glory hole across from one another.

He sucked me some then slid his ass onto my hard cock through the hole.

The initial entry can always be different. Has he been fucked prior and opened up? That can be a very smooth, easy entry. If the cock was huge, then we’re talking about hot dog down a hallway smooth. Sometimes I don’t get enough friction to get off.

Then there’s the ones who are tighter than an unfucked preteen before the priest molestation. That can be painful, especially because my cock stands rock-hard and I can allow someone that tight to slide onto it.

With his, he’d messaged I’d be churning up a load already deposited a couple of hours earlier. That said, he’d be tightened up.

But his ass started with that resistance to entrance then began to open enough to allow my head to pop inside. His ass hugged my cock. Tight. And like a velvet wrap of warmth with the cum-soaked interior, I felt him back onto my cock.

After he had enough time to adjust, I began my assault on his ass. But it felt just too good to let myself cum too quickly. And I just wanted to get a little deeper. When he came off me and I felt a tap on my cock.

I pulled out and bent over, thinking he’d invite me to his booth.

“Want to go to the darkroom?”

The darkroom was just that… a darkened room with some sofas around the edge of the room. One couldn’t see very well in the space, just shadows, really. Since Inserection had decided to lock the rooms upstairs and charge for their use, the darkroom gained in popularity.

Unfortunately, some asshole will occasionally come in and turn on their cell phones to get a glimpse of what’s going on. Once, a man even punched someone for it. But I was fucking someone and didn’t bother to pay attention much.

I went in behind him, my pants barely cinched up around my hardon. Interestingly enough, he didn’t go far into the room. Right in the doorway, with the best of all possible views (with the light that filtered in), he dropped his pants and climbed onto the semi-sofa and presented his ass.

I opened my pants and aimed for his hole.

The entry this time was perfect. Just enough resistance for perfection in pleasure.

And I began fucking in earnest. Slowing down some. Speeding up. Pacing myself.

A crowd formed around us. I felt hands on my ass, even around my asshole. But no one dared step behind me, lest it dampen what little light came in.

Occasionally a hand would venture down to check and see whether I was wearing a condom. Of course I wasn’t.

I bent over, he arched up.

“You want my load?” I asked.

“Breed my negative ass,” he responded.

An odd response. This bottom hadn’t bothered to discuss status.

“You want my jizz, no matter what?”

“Give it to me!”

“You got it.”

I stood and began really fucking him, pounding him into that sofa. He started breathing harder.

“Here’s my fucking load,” I growled as I felt my balls tighten up.

As I normally do unless I’m stealthing, I plunged in and completely stopped moving for the initial pulse of my cock.

My cockhead swelled in his tight hole. As it did, he inhaled and gasped. My taint muscles then let loose the first giant pulse and my cum jetted into his guts. He started to practically scream.

I resumed my fucking, feeling my cum mix in the creamy Santorum already mucked up in this bottom’s ass. The crowd surged closer and one old troll lost his load on the floor.

Obviously, the bottom shot all over the sofa thing. He would tell me later he’d never felt anything like it.

“That’s why I’m called, ‘iBLASTinside.'”

Other men pulled at me to fuck them but, for the moment, I was satisfied. I left, headed home before the traffic got too bad.

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Travel Diary: Beantown Bronze (Borderline Bossy) Bottom Begs for Blast by Bentson

Travel Diary: Beantown Bronze (Borderline Bossy) Bottom Begs for Blast by Bentson

When I arrive in a town like Boston, BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window lights up. Am I recognized? By a few. New meat?  That’s it. I think the bareback community occasional craves that fresh injection of DNA into the murky mix. It’s so nice to log on and find 10 or 15 messages waiting to be read.

Now some buttwipes fail to read the most basic information, even in my own BBRT profile Link Opens in a New Window. As I’ve outlined on the Getting Fucked by iBLASTinside page Opens a new window from this blog on this site, I have a few requirements (don’t fucking smoke), but otherwise I’ll be interested based on how things go in our conversation.

Such is what happened with one such hot bottom.

Truth is, I had two very different men that were definite possibilities and one dark horse in the race for my cum on the one night I was in town.

The dark horse? A muscle bottom from Montana visiting Boston. Fuck if when I saw his bubble butt ass and thick thighs, I didn’t want to get my cock between his muscular cheeks and get him to squeeze.

The other bottom followed me on Twitter Follow on Twitter. He was fucking beefy and totally hot. But timing sucked as my boss called and wanted to meet the team as a precursor to the next day’s business. The beefy bottom had to be up early, so by 10:30 p.m. when things were wrapping up, he was knackered and off to bed.

While plenty of other men popped up, my 25-year-old bottom popped up continually, requesting an anonymous scene. And his ass photo just proved irresistible.

I love anonymous scenes. My favorite is known as “Room Service” when I’m traveling and I’ve done it many times… Opens a new window from this blog in Texas and Opens a new window from this blog in California, just to name a couple. But I know there’s a lot more here I’ve just failed to tag.

I outline the basics for the bottom. He comes into the darkened room, strips naked, finds me naked on the bed, sucks me hard then climbs on board and rides me a bit. I then put him on his stomach and finish off in his ass, sending him on his way.

His response?

Instead, he’d prefer I only take him from behind.

He outlines a completely different scene, where I hide in the bathroom and he is on all fours. I’m responsible for getting myself hard and I just fuck and load him.

WTF. Not exactly meeting the Eleven Commandments Opens a new window from this blog.

“No thanks.”

I then start working a beefy, tattooed guy.

Then the whining and “what happened?” questions start.

“Not interested in bossy bottoms,” I said. “Have a good one.”

“It was just a suggestion,” he said. “I’m glad to do it your way. I just like being taken from behind.”

After a little while without much progress and the clock ticking past midnight, I invited him over.

          

As I waited naked across the bed in the darkened room, I felt my heartbeat rise with anticipation, as with every time I do this scene. The light from the hallway suddenly floods part of the room as he slips in and I can just make out the shadow of a guy, about six foot tall, in a gray tank top, gym shorts and flip-flops. I’d told him to wear as little as possible.

The room plunges back into darkness and he’s slipping off his clothes. He’s moving toward the bed and soon I feel a tentative hand touch my right foot and it moves up until he’s climbed on the bed and his mouth closes around my half-hard cock.

His sun-chapped lips begin sucking my cock. I reach down into his brown mane and feel the soft hair and stroke it to his skin-peeling shoulders. This boy has had too much sun. I can feel the lizard skin as it flakes off into my finger tips. He radiates a heat.

I’m worked into full hardness but it isn’t until he starts to lick my balls do I finally start to feel some aggression and begin uttering, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I put his mouth back into my cock and push it down gently before getting him to lick my balls more. I feel his hairy chest, which has been clipped shorter and find his nipples. They’re smaller and fail to protrude much, sticking close to his body. A little disappointing, especially based on the face and chest pic I’d seen, which seemed to show larger, poking nips.

But who knows if he even sent real pics.

I pull him up by his hairy underarms and position him to ride. He spits on his hand and adds it to ass. I hand him my bottle of poppers and let him take a whiff as my cockhead begins to split him open.

For someone who wanted me to just take him from behind, it took this bottom a moment to really get his ass down to the base of my raw cock. He finally did, with extra spit and more poppers. Fuck, that ass gripped my cock tight. He begin to bounce on it. Just a little. He added more spit to the base but the friction just really set me off.

It’s not very often I find a bottom who could possibly milk a load out of me. This one didn’t know it. He was bringing me close to popping.

Interestingly enough, he’d change position or pace or angle right about the moment I’d be hitting that point of no return. Given the reprieve, I’d regain my composure. The darkness masked my biting of my lip to distract myself just enough.

Once, he almost had me there, I lifted up and asked if me wanted me to fuck him from behind.

I moved behind him, spit on my cock and slid inside.

He sighed, like jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window already occurred. I guess he really liked it from behind.

I laid on top of him and began pumping, giving him a whiff of poppers and snorting some myself.

“You want my load?”

“Oh yes!” the slutty bottom said. “Please give me your cum!”

His begging continued as I pumped, getting closer and closer until I sighed and let out a groan, my cock throbbing and my load pumping hot, white sperm into his ass. I pushed it into him deeper and deeper.

“Oh fuck yea!”

“That’s my load man,” I said. “You’re getting my fucking sperm!”

He backed his ass up. I climbed up enough so he could impale himself a little and he rode it that way until he shot a load on the bedsheets just a moment later.

I rolled off and he left into the night just a few moments later.

I hope he found some moisturizer. His skin really needed it. His ass, not so much. I gave it plenty of protein.

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Travel Diary, Day #3: Silicon Valley Sucks My Cock… Twice

Travel Diary, Day #3: Silicon Valley Sucks My Cock… Twice

I am not crazy about blowjobs except as a prelude to fucking. My evening began with the usual bullshit I’ve found here in the East Bay/South Bay area.

One guy I hoped for was going to “check where I was” then sent a nasty note about 30 minutes later and said since he didn’t hear back from me to forget it. Dude, you were figuring where I was. I invited you. Funny thing, he supposedly was in the same fucking town.

One beautiful Asian guy does deserve a little extra OOMPH though. We started exchanging messages on BarebackRT.com so we’re already on the same page. Then as I’m about to close the deal, he asks what “iBLASTinside” means.

You know, some people just aren’t all that smart. I explain.

“Do you always blast inside?” he asks.

“Yup,” I respond. We’re on a bareback site and, for bottoms, that’s usually a turn-on.

“No exceptions?” He’s asking. Now maybe he likes to be held down?

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I’m just not ready to exchange bodily fluids.”

And that was the end of that.

So an e-mail pops up with a guy willing to suck me off and I throw out where I am, expecting more of the bullshit. About 20 minutes later, I get a message, “I’m in the lobby.”

I head down and he’s right on the money with looks. We head up and start warming up. Me naked from the waist down on the bed in the darkened room. He works my cock with a good cocksucker expertise.

He licks my balls, sucks and nibbles, deep throats without any roughness or pain, he uses his hands just enough and flexes his throat, his lips are tight, his teeth aren’t anywhere to be found and his tongue is always active.

Apparently, I’ve finally hit the jackpot of cocksuckers in Silicon Valley.

That, or I’m just so fucking horny.

Truth is, maybe it’s a combination of the two.

He draws it out for his own fun for a bit, making it last about 10 minutes before going for the goal… and when I deliver, even he mentions later how intense and how much cum it is. It’s a lot. A week’s worth, minimum. I’d been saving for an ass. But he swallowed it. Well, I know he savored the flavor for a bit before sucking it all down.

But he didn’t stop. His talent knew how to handle the sensitive cock after cumming and he worked me where I never lost my rigidity. And soon, I was moaning again. Twenty minutes later, he sucked down load number two, twice as intense and still sizable.

It wasn’t an ass. I’m still seeking ass to slam a load into. But at least my balls aren’t blue.

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Straight Men Are Pigs…And Really Easy

Straight Men Are Pigs…And Really Easy

I’ve had my Android cell phone (and its associated number) for almost 18 months but I’ll still get text messages for “Mac.” Mac must be a big jokester because as I tell these fuckers that I’m not Mac, they never believe me. Never. So usually I begin spouting offensive Gay stuff a straight musclehead like Mac would never say.

I have no idea who Mac is but through all the text messages, I’ve learned about him because folks have asked training advice, asked about his girlfriend, suggested he checked out this or that band, etc.

The other day, I get a photo of a man holding a rather small large-mouth bass. I inform him that I’m not Mac and he’s got the wrong number.

“Sure thing, you Jack-Wagon. Whatever!” He responds.

“I’m not Jack either.” I answer back.

“Okay then, Mr. Wagon to you!”

The guy isn’t getting it. So I go blue: “Unless you’re someone who likes to suck cock, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Not my thing,” he sends back. “But you be proud of whatever you’re good at!”

I hate people who love exclamation points: “I hold my own. And I swallow cum. Do you cum a lot?”

“When I want to!” he responds.

“I fuck ass really well,” I shoot back. “Especially a beefy ass like yours.”

There was a long pause. He seemed to be getting that Mac might not be texting him now. Then I received an apology that indeed, he realized that I wasn’t Mac, that he was married and he thought we were just “joking around.”

“Well, I’m not joking,” I typed back. “I’ll give you the best, most intense time you’ll ever have.”

A pause, then: “My wife takes care of me. You should spend some time reading the bible. The lord can help change your life.”

Fuck. One of those closet cases taking refuge in religion. But I went for it.

“Does she swallow?”

He kept saying how his wife was wonderful and beautiful and took care of him but never answered the question, which I always pointed out. Sometimes these Bible-thumpers can’t help but be honest, even about the most offensive shit like this.

Finally he answered: “No. She won’t even put her mouth there.”

“I would,” I said. “And I’d enjoy it.”

The remaining content fluctuates between his religious guilt and the intrigue of having his cock sucked. I worked the details of my tongue and how it would feel, the sensation and how hard he would cum. How I would savor the flavor. How I would never say, “No,” to his requests.

It took a little magic, but the male testosterone took hold and soon I was driving toward the man’s house. His wife was out of town, thus giving him the chance to go fishing on a weekday. His home nestled near a local lake. I arrived and could see just off to the distance his little boat tied to a dock down the hill from the nondescript house in an older subdivision. A black, shiny Ford F-150 parked in the driveway and a dried-flower wreath on the door.

He answered the door, beefy, solid, dirty blond and about 5-foot-10. He hadn’t shaved but it seemed like he’d cleaned up a bit, wearing a fresh t-shirt and basketball shorts. His handshake was solid if a little hesitant. He invited me in and closed the door, locking it.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Just take me somewhere comfortable,” I said. “Maybe where you can watch porn.”

“We don’t have any,” he said. “My wife won’t allow it.”

“That’s cool,” I said. “Just someplace where you’re comfortable.”

We went upstairs to what I figure was a guest room and he sat on the edge of the bed. I closed the door. On the cloudy afternoon, the blinds and sheers cut much of the light. I knelt in front of him and began to move my hand toward his crotch. He started to move away and say something, but I stopped him.

“Close your eyes, lay back,” I said. “Just relax.”

I resumed my massage as he did as I commanded. Soon I could feel his cock thickening as I reached up inside his leg and touched his cock on the outside of his boxers. It took a few moments before I had him lifting his ass off the bed so I could strip his shorts off him and begin a proper blowjob. He chubbed up to a nice six inches and thick, not too hard but not completely soft. A mouthful. His fuzzy blondish brown hair all over and unkempt. But I sucked him and licked his balls. I varied the speed and worked him all over, licking places he’d never felt a tongue.

I moved my hands up under his shirt and touched his furry chest and found large nipples. One little touch and each stood firm and began to poke up. He even pulled up his shirt for easier access. He moaned and groaned as I began to work him into a frenzy.

But I did not come here to make him happy.

I did pause long enough to come up for air and actually lick his nipples. This was the first time I saw his eyes open and look at the man providing him so much pleasure and then clamp back closed. He kept his hands at his side, gripping the quilt on the bed.

Then I moved south, back to his cock, around it and down to his balls and finally down to his taint, scooping around the back of his legs and lifting his legs up. Before he could protest, my tongue went to work.

Pretty soon I was at his pucker and I worked it over well. He’d indeed showered and the smell of Zestfully clean along with the taste for he’d failed to wash away all the hint of soap. But I kept working the folds and added more magical spit in to filter out the flavor. His hole opened up like a natural bottom’s would, as I knew. And I poked a couple of fingers inside while flicking my tongue across the balls and other places that tickled his fancy.

When I returned to the head of his cock, a pool of precum nestled in the hairy treasure trail and I knew he’d only need one more trip around the world before I’d be able to shove my cock in his ass.

Nipples, cock, balls, taint, ass, taint, balls, cock and nips. By then, I’d pulled my cock out and lubed it with my spit.

When I was at his nipples, I had his legs up and teased his hole. I then replaced it with my cockhead which slid inside easily. When it hit the second sphincter was when his eyes opened a second time and he began to move away.

I was ready for this.

I grabbed his thighs and pulled down.

“No,” he whispered.

“Your cock says yes,” I whispered back.

“But…” he began, almost seeming to cry, but I could feel his throbbing cock — now harder than ever — against my belly.

“Just relax.”

I pushed inside him again and this time past that opening into him. And then I hit the prostate.

He gasped, as if he were dying and there were no air. This time he reached for my legs and actually pulled me toward him.

Natural bottom.

“OH MY GAWD!”

His eyes flew open, but the pupils seemed to roll into the back of his head.

Suddenly a torrent of clear liquid began to pour from his cockhead. I could feel a little throbbing inside his ass. I didn’t want him to cum yet so I remained perfectly still and purred at him to relax.

The tenseness of his body soon left him and I began a small hip motion, rocking my cock a bit and fucking my raw cock inside his virgin hole. As I fucked this little straight boy, I picked up pace and felt him beginning to move in concert with me, but opposite, to allow deeper penetration. His eyes had shut but he was enjoying the experience. I reached down to my poppers, knowing his distraction wouldn’t notice so I could take a firm whiff of them. I did and felt my cum boil in my balls.

I began fucking him like I meant it and he loved it. I spit on my hand as I neared by own orgasm and reached for his cock at the moment when I went blind with ecstasy. My sperm flooded his guts and I loaded him with my DNA as I grasped his thick, rigid cock and began to pump. My other hand found his right nipple and I pinched — a little too hard.

His ass clamped down as I pushed my spunk in him deeper. His first shot came as I opened my eyes. It went over his head, over the bed, across the room and splattered on the wall. The next six or seven came within short order and were less intense, but in the end a string of cum lined from his cockhead to the wall about seven feet away.

As his breathing began to normalize, his hands came up over his eyes and covered himself in shame.

I’d already zipped up and tucked away my softening cock, gently laying him down and leaving him in the darkened room. I didn’t speak to him as I left and I haven’t texted him. He hasn’t messaged me. Yet.

Yes, this is the real photo he texted me (just with the face blurred).

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