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I Am An Ordinary Guy And A Big Ole Geek

I Am An Ordinary Guy And A Big Ole Geek

I am an ordinary guy and a big ole geek. I never proclaimed myself to be anything more or less.

Okay. Maybe I am a stud. And I don’t mean a stud in some amorphous sense that one looks at a hot guy and goes, “Damn, he’s a stud.” I also don’t mean the term you might find in some urban dictionary where it refers to a general bad ass.

I am the animal kingdom version of a stud.

Definition: “An animal retained for breeding.”

Those who give me half a chance to get hard and shove my cock into their hole realize two things:

1. This guy has a very hard cock.

2. This guy knows how to fuck.

Given time, a third thing happens.

3. He breeds.

Knock on wood — primarily, my own — that’s what happens.

My blog here makes no secret of who I am and the type of person I happen to be. I should work out more. I’m not hugely fat. I have one tattoo. I wear geek glasses. I am not stud looking.

Bottom-BrainiacImagine my surprise when this fucking brainiac arrives at my door and says he’s confused who I actually am. Apparently, he’d confused me with some of the porn images on my website.

As he explained — in trying to leave and not have to see me naked — he’d assumed I was the beefy, tattooed guy who was fucking on my site.

Now I went through the last several entries. For the most part, all the porn stuff is labeled. So let’s say the dumb ass can read (but after chatting with him a bit, I’m not sure about that).

It leaves us with the escort entries on Chris, formerly of Detroit, formerly of Orlando, now I think he’s back in Detroit.

This means genius-in-muscles actually thought I was a bottom who was going to fuck him.

I didn’t fuck him because he wanted a pass. And who am I to rape the unwilling (and someone who’s six-f00t-six and got enough muscles to break me in half).

Truth be told, I got this beautiful, muscular Hispanic man with a gorgeous ass who came preloaded with two other loads that gave his ass this tangy taste!

But that’s another story.

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The Plea of ‘Please Fuck Me’

The Plea of ‘Please Fuck Me’

I turned 46 this year. Apparently, it’s one of those watershed moments in a gay man’s sexual career.

I’ve had them before. When I turned 31, it happened. Suddenly, the immature men in their youthful twenties weren’t interested in IMing me on AOL — hey folks, this is before the wide open world of the Internet. I know most of you kiddos missed that whole world where we didn’t hook up without hook-up sites, apps and Craigslist.

It occurred again at 36 when I no longer met the 19-35 threshold.

And now I’ve skipped beyond 45 and suddenly, everything ancient is new.

We’re into begging territory.

Daddies aren’t asking me to fuck him. Grandpa is. I get more pleas of “please fuck me” from men in their sixties than ever before. It’s not that I won’t fuck a man born in the 1940s. I will. But let’s get a few things out of the way.

  1. Don’t ask if you don’t mean it. Begging me to fuck you when you’re 100-plus miles away doesn’t do shit for either one of us. I’m pretty much tired of the message when there’s no fucking way you’re coming to Atlanta and I’m surely not dragging my ass to Timbuktu, South Africa. My answer now is just to ignore the dumb fuck or answer, “Okay. Come on over.”
  2. Don’t lie. Recently I did choose to fuck a child of the 1940s, but he lied, lied and lied again. He sent a bogus photograph (granted of another man in his early sixties) who had an incredible cock and a decent body. But he also said he didn’t smoke and, bingo, dumb ass, I smelled it the moment he walked in. I also enjoyed the fresher smell as he left the building.
  3. Don’t let this give you hope. If you’re old, chances are I won’t fuck you. Look, I know I’m fucking old. That’s the thing… we’re both old. But I’d much rather fuck down than fuck up. Since this is a top world, I get to pick where I plant my seed and it’s still in a tight young ass. Speaking of which, I’ve got some advice for you old farts.
  4. Gravity is not your friend. Look sweetie, if you’re going to take a picture of your saggy ass, I appreciate the honesty in advertising that you shoot that shot with you standing up. But when those ass cheeks look like they’re swinging at the back of your knees, we’ve got a problem Houston. Lie down and hire a professional photographer to re-position those cheeks into place.
  5. HemorroidsHemorrhoids do not build character. Maybe you do want to show off that cumload spilling out your ass, but three loads spilling out do not make up for the bulges around your pucker that look like you’ve had out-of-control Botox injections. Tuck that shit inside or simply don’t send me those photos.
  6. Grooming costs money, but it’s worth it. Look, at 46, I can tell you I’ve got hair growing out of places I never thought I’d have hair. I fucking hate that my stylist doubles as the waxer for my earlobes. But my cute, young thing earns an extra twenty for ripping that shit out. And that strange pubic puff at the small of my back? Well, let’s just say, no one has to see that, even though the only people seeing my back are massage therapists.

All that said, stop the madness. You want fucked by me, be honest, upfront and nearby.

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Rage Against the Bossy Bottom

Rage Against the Bossy Bottom

One of those days. Fucking one of those days. I just needed to leave work and fuck an ass. All that pent up frustration sometimes shoots out of my cock.

Where’s a good bottom when you need one?

FDAU -- Face Down Ass UpI work on the other side of the planet from where I live, so I’ve been attempting to find a few bottoms near the office and on the way home I can stop off an drop a load. It’s my thing. You be there, naked, ass up, face down and ready to receive.

The thing about the way I fuck: It’s not what you think.

1. My cock is hard.

When I say hard, I mean rock hard. It’s not hard like a dildo, so let’s make that clear. But when I get erect, I’m in the game until I pop or you poop.

My cock is pliable and I can fuck in many different positions but it’s not for a size queen. It’s about 7 inches and it’s just right. I’ll hit your prostate and bang it often. I know how to find it and usually hit it.

2. This Ain’t Your Dad Fucking Your Ass

Incest aside, I fucking know how to fuck ass. Every ass is different and every bottom feels different from the inside.

If I’ve fucked you, please comment.

I don’t want to come off sounding cocky, but my cock doesn’t have a mind of it’s own. It’s attached to me and I’m a professional. Now let me do my job.

3. I Deliver a Load

My name online isn’t “iBLASTinside” just cause I thought it was fun. I’ve made a habit of always shooting inside, even when the bottom asks me not to do so (and they’ve seen this e-mail address and recognize what it says).

I’ll admit to faking it on occasion, but it’s rare. I love breeding ass.

4. My Loads Are Big or Huge, Your Choice

When I cum, it’s not a dribble. It’s not a small amount. I cum a lot and you’ll know it. I throb like a mutherfucker and I shoot a lot. Generally, I provide two large bursts of cum.

You want extra cum? Here’s what you do: Lick my balls before I fuck you. That will assure I juice up before I breed you.

5. I’m Always Hard After I Pop

If I like you, I’ll let you cum. It’s not a requirement. Bottoms aren’t really there to get off. But sometimes I am in a giving mood, especially if the bottom provided exceptional service. I probably let a bottom cum about 1 out of 4 times.

It’s even more rare for me to hang around long enough to give him a second load, usually about 20 to 30 minutes later. Of course, that requires he suck me some and if a bottom isn’t sure of his cleaning skills, then he’s going to taste a little of his own shit or I’m out the door.

So What’s This Getting At?

Today I’m looking for bottoms and, of course, it results in the usual desperation of four or five contenders before some asshole flags my ad off Craigslist because I dared indicate “bareback” in the text.

Apparently most tops are shitty at their jobs out there, but I have to end up with the bossiest bottoms or just dumb asses who roam the planet playing a game of 20 questions.

Guy 1: “Have a pic?”

Me: “I posted one. Where’s yours? What’s your stats?”

Guy 1: “Send to receive.”

Me: “I posted a pic. Check the ad.”

Guy 1: “Okay. Hot pic. Stats?”

Me: “Did you bother to read the ad?”

Guy 1: “Oh yea. Hot. Where are you?”

My response: “Um. Ad.”

Guy 1: “Oh. Got a place?”

My response: “As it says in the ad, I’M AT WORK. So, no, I don’t have a place. You went to school on a short bus, didn’t you?”

(FYI, that one ended there.)

Guy 2: “Still looking?”

Me: “The ad went up like a few minutes ago. So, yes.”

Guy 2: “Cool. What are you looking for?

Me: “A bottom to breed. Like the ad says.”

Guy 2: “Pic?”

Me: “Posted one. Send yours.”

Guy 2: “You got more pics?”

Me: “Yes, for trade.”

We trade pics at this point.

Guy 2: “You’re pretty big. I’m not sure I can take you.”

Me: “It’s 7 inches. You can sit on it and take your time.”

Guy 2: “I’m really tight.”

Me: “I’m really hard.”

Guy 2: “You got supplies? Condom? Lube?”

Me: “I’ve got lube.”

Guy 2: “We need a condom. Can you pick up one?”

Me: “Dude. What do you think ‘breed’ means?”

Guy 2: “I only do safe. Sorry.”

Me: “Don’t fucking reply to ads with ‘breed’ or ‘bb’ in them.”

Guy 2: “I thought you might make an exception.”

Me: “I don’t.”

(So this one ends.)

Guy 3: “You got a  pic?”

Me: “Posted in the ad?”

Guy 3: “Got a face pic?”

Me: “For trade.”

Guy 3: “Okay.”

We trade face pics.

Guy 3: “I don’t have a lot of time. Got to do this before my roommate gets home. Okay?”

Me: “No problem. Where to?”

10 minutes pass

Guy 3: “What are you looking to get into?”

Me: “Just looking to fuck and breed an ass. Where do I go?”

Another 10 minutes

Guy 3: “I’m at [a vague major crossroads]. Do you have a full body pic?”

Me: “Look, do you want to trade pics or fuck? Where do I go?”

About 5 minutes pass

Guy 3: “Sorry, my roommate will be home soon. Can we do this tomorrow?”

Me: “Do what? Trade vague e-mails while you jerk off?”

(Obviously, this one ends too.)

Guy 4: “Great pic. Here’s mine. Please come over and load me.”

Me: “Where are you at?”

Guy 4: [Provides address and directions.] “When will you be here?”

Me: “About 20 minutes. I’m on my way.”

Guy 4: “Great. Door’s open. Just push it open. In jockstrap and lubed.”

(FYI, he was. But this one has a weird story. Maybe it will be the next post.)

Sounds Like Flakes So Far…

No FlakesYea, it does. But it gets so weird how bottoms get so fucking picky how they want it. It’s all on their conditions when they want it.

Believe me. Read some ads on Craigslist.

I just want to use an ass. Yes, most of these guys where picky losers.

It’s real easy. I tell you who I am, what I want and where I am. Just be a bottom and ready for it. Is it really that difficult?

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Q&A: Can’t a Top Feel It When He Goes Raw?

Q&A: Can’t a Top Feel It When He Goes Raw?

Yesterday, I went to get fucked by a guy and he insisted on wearing a condom.

I’m a pig bottom and always follow commands so I brought some old condoms with me. I sucked him hard, washed his orbs and rimmed his ass good which got him rock hard. He handed me the condom so I duitifully slid it over his 7-inch cock and assumed my possition bent over the bed.

No lube, the horny little fuck just mounted my ass and dry-fucked my hole. After about 5 minutes, he pushed me up on the bed and mounted me doggie. Again, no lube or spit, he just started pushing it in and I heard a POP. Right away I knew what had happened: The condom broke. I didn’t say a fucking word, as I prefer bareback to wrapped any day of the week.

With the condom busted, he just kept right on fucking my hole like there was no tomorrow. I was loving it because his precum started lubing my fuck hole and the painfulness of the dry condom was gone.

He just kept on riding me until he unloaded a huge nutt in my hole. Since he was still hard, I tried to get him to keep going and drop another load in my pig hole because now with his nutt lubing me up I was really enjoying the ride.

He pulled out and was supprised the condom had broke but let me suck another load out of him before I pulled my jock up over my dripping ass and left.

So here’s the question: How the fuck does the top not know that the damn condom broke?

 

How could he not know? Of course he knew unless he’s a complete dumb-ass!

You know as well as I do that we ALL prefer it bareback. The more the ass-wipe, condom Nazis deny it, the more it’s clear they really, really want it raw. You could hear the POP? He could FEEL it. But he could also feel how good your ass felt and, godalmighty, he didn’t want to stop. So pretend like it wasn’t happening.

We call that plausible deniability.

Some of us want to suspend belief in reality so we can think we’re safe long enough to get our nuts off — in this case, twice.

When I stealth, I know some of the guys recognize I’ve slipped off the condom but they want to suspend their belief for a moment and pretend like the condom is on. There’s this one Latin at the adult book store I frequent. He always puts a condom on me. I always take it off mid-fuck. I always blow a load in his ass. He always takes it. Then he acts all indiginant .

I’ve fucked him dozens of times. He comes back for more despite the fact he KNOWS he will get it raw. He always puts a condom on me. I always take it off.

 

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Travel Diary, Day #4: The Party that Wasn’t

Travel Diary, Day #4: The Party that Wasn’t

I thought to improve my chances at a bareback lay required something a bit more creative. A party, surely, would attract a few more men and make it worth their while to drive two miles off Interstate 880. Right?

Fuck no.

I posted it and got about seven responses, but two were abortions too far away to really count (or just not in my field of dreams). The remaining five made the grade and I accepted them. I’d hoped for more tops but, alas, that didn’t seem to be the case.

I sent an e-mail with instructions and my location and followed up with a request to confirm. Shortly after that message, I started to get responses:

sorry. you are pretty far from me...about 30 minutes...so I
am going to pass...thought you were closer...have fun

Okay, so BBRT does indeed show his city and mine and approximate distance. Had he checked, he’d seen a bridge needed to be crossed and a 30-minute drive.

Next one:

new to the area and don't have idea where you are. sorry bud.

Guess what, dumb ass? When I told you the hotel, there’s this really amazing thing called the fucking Internet. USE IT.

sorry, but bbrt normally emails me when i have a message and
it didn't tonight. hope you have fun. sorry i couldnt make
it.

Well, I invited you to a party at 9 p.m. and accepted you. What the fuck do you think would happen? The one night BBRT doesn’t work right. HMMMM… suspicious.

And finally, the guy who begged me all week to fuck him but wouldn’t come over unless I found another top to fuck him:

I'm not gonna attend.  Someone I blocked is going.....have a
great time man

Well fuck.

Everyone else, just a no show.

I’m back in January. Maybe I’ll have better luck.

 

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