Some of you might have seen me on Twitter with occasional posts. Not much elsewhere. As I’ve struggled over the last few months, exerting myself upon multiple fronts to find an occupation for myself, the results failed to be fruitful. Each provided a life lesson for me. And I sit upon the precipice and ponder the path I’ve taken.
I use people, most specifically bottoms for my own pleasure. As I have ventured a little further in recent times, I’ve opened myself up to a little more sensation but still, my intention is to mark my territory. I won’t settle for a condom, insisting that my cock slide raw into an ass and spray my DNA markers in that most intimate of places to say I was here.
I’ve never been delusional about how the world works as well. While lacking the literal fucking and breeding, I’ve been proverbially bent over and marked through my life in many ways. And I let it happen. Perhaps my own need to breed back is my response to how society decided to use my intelligence, creativity and good will.
Now approaching eight months of unemployment, struggling with comprehending why my talents are overqualified and too advanced for today’s workforce, I find myself questioning much. And then comes the sexual side of it all. The other night, I lay beneath a young man just making out. And a sensation came across like someone flipped on a switch I’d not felt in eons. Of course, we all feel it on occasion.
A lunch arrangement and then when the time comes, it’s postponed and finally cancelled with a stinging “it was a mistake” to even suggest meeting. A sudden flash of anger and hurt then returned to calm as I’ve been here before, kicked to the curb for dropping my guard and giving humanity hope for a moment.
If only I’d bred him when I had the chance. My territory went unmarked.
A realization came over me about the number of people who use me as well. My so-called friends who only use me for their benefit and return so little back. Karma?
Funny because I’ve been cutting some people out of my life. If I don’t see enough Return On Investment from my friends, well, they’re getting kicked to the curb as well.
As a result, I think Karma has kicked my ass-supply. I’ve found it dwindles some, of late. I’m sure some cum-hungry sluts find the ass use a mutually beneficial relationship, but my one-off, use your ass as a masturbation device doesn’t often work that well.
Part of me still hopes for a buddy in Atlanta who can fuck, hang out, bareback, etc. I don’t see it happening. And that occasional need for affinity comes and goes. But perhaps I should stick to an equation, a simple mathematical value of what I get for what I give.
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