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Travel Diary: Bottoms Blah Blah Blah

Bareback top visiting New Hampshire
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Flakes are universal, along with fakes and catfish Open-New-Window-External. This I know.

But when it comes to superstar flaking out, New Hampshire takes the fucking cake. In fact, my visit to Concord might take the bakery.

Allow me to explain.

I always post future destinations in my travel plans on my BarebackRT.com profile Open-New-Window-External. I notify readers here Open-New-Window-External that I’m visiting. Of course, all this is tweeted Follow on Twitter and ends up on my Facebook Open-New-Window-External.

To enhance it all further, I post on Craigslist an add that looks something like the following:

TOP blogger visiting looking for bottom writing inspiration – m4m (Concord Area)

I’m a blogger who writes about my sexual experiences on the road with bottoms I encounter… My blog is read by thousands every single day, reproduced on several sites and even some entries end up on a famous porn studio’s website.

Perhaps you might like to be the inspiration for a piece when I slide into town next week?

I don’t identify the bottoms I fuck, just write about the experience…

Hit me up with your info — a pic, stats, etc. I’ll respond with my blog details so you can check it out. We’ll go from there.

The site contains a lot of information beyond my fucks. And if you happen to be a top, we can tag team or maybe you’d like to try sitting on my cock… it’s a perfect 7 inches cut.

Thanks!

P.S. The only major requirement (other than bottoming for me) is that you don’t smoke.

From all this, I do get a lot of inquiries. Most of them are lurkers who never intend to meet. This I get. It’s also an opportunity to find new people to read my blog since not all barebackers have found the Bareback Brotherhood or my blog.

With many there’s the “I just fuck safe,” and then more than half switch their story.  But some don’t. Yet, with my blog, it becomes a jerk-off destination for many.

When I do finally arrive, I e-mail the best back to see if they’re still up for that fuck.

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Arriving in Concord

My arrival in Concord allowed me to long in locally to BarebackRT.com, Grindr, Scruff and Manhunt.net, all of which use a geographic tool to notify one who’s closest. I also posted to Craigslist.

Two men of the many interested e-mailed me back saying they were still up for the fuck, but one 4 p.m. pump-and-dump session became a no-show with regrets arriving several hours later because he was “stuck somewhere.”

Flake.

All of my online activity netted me a lot of interest. A lot. I was fresh meat in a town that didn’t see a lot. Of course, I got the usuals…

People just wanting to collect photos, see my cock or face.

I had one prospect on BarebackRT… he was a fucking hot dude in his late twenties… seemed like a good one. But here’s where we begin one issue that baffled me for Concord.

He had no vehicle.

I needed to come to him and pick him up, bring him back to my hotel to fuck and then take him home.

Now please check out the map.

Concord is not a major city. It’s 1½ hours north of Boston. It’s not a walking city. How can you not have a car and survive, especially when you’re not in college?

This turned into a theme of the night. No car. No transportation. My car is in the shop. My car is in the shop due to the storm. I don’t have a car.

By the way, none of these bottoms ever asked where I was staying to see if I happened to be within walking distance.

I don’t guess Northeastern tops teach bottoms they’re the ones who need to make the effort Opens new window of a page on this blog.

While some of them were hot enough for me to go and fetch them, it turns out I didn’t rent the car but a colleague did. I simply wasn’t an option.

Then came the other morons.

I also get a collection of those who want to postpone. These guys appear in every city, without fail. I wonder if they ever fuck. All conversations go something like this.

THEM: “How long you in town?”

ME: Just tonight (no matter how long I’m in town, I always say I’m here “just tonight”)

THEM: “Damn! It’s getting late tonight.”

ME: It’s just 9:30.

THEM: “I know but I have to get up early. I wish you were here…” fill in the blank with “tomorrow night” or “this weekend”

In other words, they can never come over now or today.

Proximity Alert

My first promising opportunity looked like a threesome, which I won’t get into too much detail on. In his early thirties and a scruffy blond, wanted to know if I wanted to fuck both him and another guy, in his early twenties — both online at the same time. As if on cue, the younger one sends me a message.

The younger one asks if I’ve got poppers, which of course I do.

Then he asks if I’ve got anything “more fun.”

WTF.

“Dude,” I respond back. “You’re well aware I’ve come into town. That means I flew. That means I went through security. At an airport. Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I have any drugs?”

He responds, “Oh yea, I guess you’re right. But I still want to fuck.”

Anyway, the vibe is off and the duo then go even more weird. The young one claims the old one is stalking him. The old one claims they’re “together.”

I don’t want to get into the shit. Kick them both to the curb.

Right Downstairs

One last opportunity happens as a guy indicates he’s in a hotel. I ask which one and it turns out he’s in the same one as I am.

Bingo.

He won’t disclose his room, so I give him mine, knowing my colleague isn’t on that floor. He tells me he needs 10 minutes to shower and get cleaned up.

Those 10 minutes pass. Then another 10. Another 10. Yet another 10. And at 45 minutes, I finally message him.

He apologizes, saying it’s taking him longer than he thought to clean out his ass.

Whatever, I say, just get his ass to my room.

Then he says come to his.

I tell him I don’t have his room number.

He says okay, he’s now putting on his clothes.

At an hour after we started this exchange, he says he’s on his way.

Then I get a text asking me if I’ll suck his dick too.

I’m baffled. I just ask, “What?”

Then he writes, “I need to run by the front desk real quick.”

Fuck that.

This fucker is just playing me.

“Forget it.”

He gets all bent out of shape. Says he won’t go by the front desk. Blah blah blah.

After some back and forth, I say he can some to my room, but he has three minutes to get there.

He says he doesn’t like my attitude.

I tell him to fuck off.

The next morning, he begs me to come to his room to fuck him.

I tell him I’m not disturbing  guests actually staying in the hotel.

Postscript

Perhaps the little fucker actually was staying in the hotel or maybe he was one of the guys I’d e-mailed earlier and said I was in town and knew the hotel from that. I’ll never know. I’m proud I never knocked on anyone’s door. That shit pisses me off. He probably kept delaying things to try and get someone else to come over and knock on my door but, like me, couldn’t find anyone to do it.

My luck is your luck, fucker.

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Bareback-Friendly Destinations

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Rating: 4.5/5 (2 votes cast)

Bareback-Friendly Bathhouses, Sex Clubs and Resorts

These destinations are known to be friendly or indifferent to gay bareback sex occurring at its location.

Do you have a destination that should be included? If you are a business owner or if the business sponsors or allows bareback events to occur at its location, we will include it here. If raw fucking is pervasive at the location, it may also be included — but only if multiple barebackers nominate the location. Please e-mail Mark Bentson mailbox_full or contact him Opens new window of a page on this blog with your suggestion.

AZ | CA | COGA | FL | IN | IL | LA | MO | NV | OH | PA | RI | TX | WA | WI
Canada

 

Arizona

Phoenix
Flex Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

California

Berkeley
Steamworks Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Cathedral City
Cathedral City Boys Club (CCBC) Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp

Hollywood
Hollywood Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Melrose Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Los Angeles
Flex Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Slammer Sex Club Open-New-Window-External Sex Club yelp

 

North Hollywood
North Hollywood Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Palm Springs
Cathedral City Boys Club (CCBC) Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp
     NOTE: The Palm Springs CumUnion meets at this location.
Helios Resort Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp

San Diego
Club San Diego Open-New-Window-External Sex Club yelp
     NOTE: Due to the large military presence in the area, this club does not accept credit cards and does not check IDs.

San Francisco
Playspace yelp Sex club

Wilmington
1350 Club Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Colorado

Denver
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Georgia

Atlanta
Club Eros Open-New-Window-External Sex club Review by Mark Opens new window of a page on this blog
Flex Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp Sleazy Guide to Atlanta Opens new window of a page on this blog
Inserection Opens new window of a page on this blog Adult book store yelp Review by Mark Opens new window of a page on this blog
Manifest Open-New-Window-External Sex club yelp Review by Mark Opens new window of a page on this blog

Augusta
Parliament House Resort Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp

TOP Return to Top

Florida

Fort Lauderdale
Club Fort Lauderdale Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Windamar Beach Resort Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp

Orlando
Club Orlando Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Tampa/St. Petersburg
Ybor Resort & Spa Open-New-Window-External Resort yelp

TOP Return to Top

Indiana

Indianapolis
Club Indianapolis Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Illinois

Chicago
Steamworks Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Louisiana

New Orleans
Club New Orleans Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Missouri

St. Louis
Club St. Louis Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Nevada

Las Vegas
Hawks Gym Open-New-Window-External Sex club yelp

TOP Return to Top

Ohio

Cleveland
Flex Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Columbus
Club Columbus Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Oregon

Portland
Hawks Portland Open-New-Window-External Sex club yelp

TOP Return to Top

Pennsylvania

Philadelphia
Club Body Center II Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Sansom Street Cinema yelp Cinema

TOP Return to Top

Rhode Island

Providence
Club Body Center Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse 

TOP Return to Top

Texas

Austin
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Dallas
Club Dallas Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Houston
Club Houston Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

San Antonio
ACI Opens new window of a page on this blog Sex club yelp

TOP Return to Top

Washington

Seattle
Steamworks Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Wisconsin

Milwaukee
Midtowne Spa Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

Canada

Toronto
Steamworks Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

Vancouver
Steamworks Open-New-Window-External Bathhouse yelp

TOP Return to Top

bullet Updated March 8 with yelp connections and seven more destinations including Wisconsin and Colorado.
bullet Updated March 16. Southern California local helped provide updates to that area’s listings (thanks Dave).

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What Was Something You Said? Looking for More Comments from My Many Readers

comment-at-iblastinside-com
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I am blessed on this blog to have many, many readers. In fact, 2012 saw just short of a half million visitors to iBLASTinside.com. Thank you.

iblastinsides-statsAs it turns out, 2013 looks like it will be even better. Don’t ask me what happened, but I saw a huge jump in readers starting Jan. 21. You can see it with online stats.

I get e-mails, more often on BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External than any place. And I appreciate the kind words.

But I’d truly love to see people comment more on the website. Whether it’s a couple of words or something more, the comments do mean something to me.

Now telling me you’d wish I’d die or you’d like to kill me or I’m a horrible person…  I get a lot of hate mail in my inbox mail2. That is crap I do delete. It does no good for me to print a dozen comments from condom Nazis Open-New-Window-External saying safer sex is the only viable option.

However, if I get intelligent discourse, even from a condom Nazi, I’ll print it. Respect me, I’ll respect you.

In general, I just want to read a little more from you.

Postscript

I want to give a shout-out to Robert Alvarez, a Psychic Witch in New York City who’s been devouring my blog of late and, with every post he reads, he comments. His own blog is available at http://thetarotman.wordpress.com Open-New-Window-External.

I won’t begin to say I understand Wiccan as a religion, although I knew several in my college years. I respect it as a faith — much as I do with other faiths. Anyone who can adhere to faith and take that leap deserves my respect, as a skeptic, I cannot seem to stick with a faith since I’m someone who needs evidence.

The Catfish Phenomenon

The Catfish Hoax and Manti Te'o
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Manti Te'o ShirtlessPoor football player. A big athlete falls in love with a “girl” and gets fooled into a three-year “relationship” over the internet and phone, then we all discover it’s fake. The humiliation of this isn’t enough, but to find out later the jock’s been fooled by a male “Christian singer who tried out for ‘The Voice.'”

Shocking?

Fuck no.

It just finally happened prominently, in the public eye. And Manti Te’o, the Notre Dame football player eventually to turn pro and hoping to save his career, got forced to admit his ignorance publicly.

He’s just a dumb jock.

I’ve had catfish galore. You would think I have a catfish farm and raise them.

Here’s a pic of the most recent attempt to dupe me. When I told the little fucker that no, his picture was all over the Internet and that it first appeared on a particular website, this was the porn name it appeared under, etc., the guy admitted the truth.

That’s not always the case.

My Most Recent Catfish Attempt

Catfish are, for the most part, dedicated to their craft. The most recent one that really caught my attention supposedly lived in Washington, D.C., with a Pennsylvania phone number. He served as a hooker, allowing older men to pound his ass mercilessly or some would pay simply to beat the shit out of him — according to the stories he would tell.

He was introduced to the world of escorting by, none other than his father, who taught him to take cock around 9 years old. Now at 19, he was a cumslut. Men would come over and pay upward of $200 each to dump a load in his smooth ass.

Problem is, three years ago, according to his Twitter account, he was 19 then also. Of course, his explanation to me was at that time he was lying. Now he was telling me the truth.

I’d figured out early on he lied a lot, but I carried on the “relationship” much longer than I wanted or even could tolerate simply to see how dedicated he would be to his character. He was unrelenting. Excuses for every inconsistency of his story and, when I asked for explanation, he would turn around to attack me for not trusting him.

So very clever.

I successfully got three photos out of him over about a month, but I could never get him to produce a candid photo in a pose I requested. That, to me, is the tell-tell sign of someone almost real. Of course, one of the original catfish I dealt with was a female Wal-Mart manager who had a minor male employee pose for her photos. She would have him call to leave voice mails as well. But I never spoke to him live.

How do you determine a catfish?

  1. Surprise phone calls. Calls should be answered at all times. If you’re in a “relationship” then a 3 a.m. emergency call shouldn’t be a big deal once in a while. If your calls seem to go to voice mails whenever you call, then you’ve got an issue.
  2. Special requests. Send them a t-shirt or red shorts or something like that in the mail. The day they get it, ask them to wear it, take a photo of themselves doing some sort of pose. Expect the photo within 5 minutes. Excuses like, “I’m at work right now,” or, “I work for the government, they don’t allow me to do that,” or, “I’m on my work phone, I can’t do that,” or, “My cell phone camera is broken, I need to do it at home,” is a sure sign that something is wrong! (Think about it, you sent the gift to their home; they received it at home; why are they suddenly at work?)
  3. Google. Google names, numbers, address and photos. Keep in mind you do need to pay for anything (there will be offers that pop up). Generally, you can glean enough information to find out whether a phone number is a cellular provider or whether it’s a virtual number that’s forwarding to a cell (using Skype or Google Voice). Be smart about phone numbers and locations. Talk about the weather. My guy in D.C. did keep up with the weather in Washington, even though his number was in Pennsylvania. If there’s a delay about what the weather happens to be, you know it’s the case. When searching the name, which many are common, check to determine whether someone has all the common accounts, not just the ones with whom you connect. Sure, creating a fake Facebook is one thing. Is he on LinkedIn? Unless he’s a hooker, you should find a LinkedIn account. And had Manti Te’o searched his “girlfriend’s” photo, he would have found she wasn’t real.
  4. Use logic and track the stories. On detective shows, you’ll often see the big bulletin boards with people’s photos and strings. You must create a virtual one of your own. Who’s his father and mother? What’s their names? Where do they live? Google. Brothers and sisters? Names? Google. College? Google. Old friends. Nowadays, we all leave a trace. For my D.C. catfish, he’d not been out at local bars for about a year. He made the mistake of being friends with a bouncer at a local gay bar — one that had closed recently. When I asked about the crowd, the bouncer, with whom I was supposedly texting while the hooker got fucked in another room, answered like he’d been working. Told me about his bosses. Stupid stuff. Yet I knew the club was closed and had been. Of course, the catfish denied the whole thing and said I was speaking with someone else who lied to me. Both entities just had a tendency to misspell the same words.
  5. Surprise visits. Nothing else shocks the shit out of a catfish like a live visit Opens a new window from this blog. Just telling one you’re coming to visit and that you’ve booked a trip will get the response you need to know. If the suspected catfish is prepared to meet, then maybe it’s for real. But likely, they’re “not ready” for that face-to-face encounter, even just for lunch. Hang the fuck up and move on.

Catfish are people too

Manti Te'o Hoaxer Ronaiah Tuiasosopo ShirtlessI get dozens of e-mails and IMs and text messages from people who want to meet me. I am so very flattered. But far too many never truly want to meet. We call them flakes, of course. We all know them for how they really treat us because, legitimately, they’re not willing to meet.

I cannot begin to shrink them. Too many people have tried to shrink me, to diagnose my own dysfunctions. However, within this world, something is missing that current relationships just cannot seem to meet so they need to create a persona to find a way to fulfill that need.

With Ronaiah Tuiasosopo, the catfish for Manti Te’o, he’s attempting a career in the Christian singing world and he’s a former football player. My guess — and I am speaking with no special knowledge — is he can’t find a way to reconcile his homosexuality with his Christianity yet. By creating a female, it worked. As angry as people are at Ronaiah Tuiasosopo, I hope he figures out he’s gay and finds a big, butch man to fuck him the way he needs it.

Catfish will thrive

They used to tank cod from Alaska all the way to China. They’d keep them in vats in the ship. By the time the codfish reached China, the flesh was mush and tasteless. So this guy came up with the idea that if you put these cods in these big vats, put some catfish in with them and the catfish will keep the cod agile. And there are those people who are catfish in life. And they keep you on your toes. They keep you guessing, they keep you thinking, they keep you fresh. And I thank god for the catfish because we would be droll, boring and dull if we didn’t have somebody nipping at our fin.
—”Catfish,” 2010

Catfish are here to keep us on our toes, or that’s what the documentary that originated the pop culture term suggests. I’m not so convinced. But in today’s impersonal, digital world, it seems to me we all need those connections that cannot be achieved in person for fear of reprisals.

How do you deal with catfish when you discover one? A true catfish can never be trusted. Never. You can’t. And generally, I’ve found the catfish never breaks character. They’re bound to their character. When I discovered one catfish and their real life, I contacted many people from real life including significant other, friends, relatives and more. A catfish is convincing in their real life too and stays dedicated to that character. Each did not believe the strange story I told.

But eventually, they would see it was true. I hope that catfish found a way to get some help and to stop living in fantasy land.

Like everyone else, I crave realness. I think if you bareback, that may be another reason why we do so. We don’t want to keep the distance between two human beings, even if it’s two-millimeters thick in plastic. We want that connection. For barebackers, we put it all out there, exposed. For catfish, they don’t. It’s all murky.

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My Latin Siesta with a Pocket Papi

Pocket Latin Bottom
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When you’re really horny, it seems almost impossible to find ass. But when things are a bit calmer… well… it’s like the ass is lining up for you.

I’d arranged for a massage in the evening, which always means a happy ending. This would be a trial with a new therapist, so I wasn’t sure if he’d climb on board and ride the first time or if I’d need to work him up to that. Still, that afternoon, I was bored and wanted to hurry to the evening so someone would do something with my cock.

Of course, I couldn’t stay offline.

On my iPhone, I hit BarebackRT.com‘s geolocation feature and notice a new bottom only about 4½ miles (7¼km) from me. But I’d be getting a nice happy ending tonight. I didn’t need ass. Still, I checked him out to discover a nice pocket Latin.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on people closeby.

He sent an e-mail, I politely replied and my cock got the better of me. Within a few minutes, I was driving to his house where he’d unlocked the door and waited naked for me in the master bedroom.

There’s a bit of hesitation when I first turn the knob at any house since here in the South too many idiots leave their doors unlocked or there’s a chance for entrapment. But I could see him ass up in the bedroom, just as I’d requested.

While that darker Latin skin really showed off his lithe body, his five-foot-five (165cm) body seemed to glow a little, as if he’d been sunbathing nude. In fact, it was only around his asshole (as I spread it open to begin licking it) did it seem a little lighter.

His pucker was so clean and ready. And fucking tight. As I teased it with my tongue (and attempted to disrobe at the same time), he helped by holding his cheeks open for me. The thin black hairs around his hole were just so fine. It took some caressing to get his pucker to begin to release and let me lick a little inside. As it did, and I could push my spit inside him, he groaned more.

Soon, I stood, thinking I might just push my cock into this primed pumping hole. But my little Latin bottom had another idea. Seeing my red, inflamed cock caused him to turn around and start a champion suck job.

He slobbered all over my cock and turned around, positioning his ass in front of my cock. I lined it up and pushed my cock inside. He gasped.

I probably had 100 pounds (45 kilos) and almost 9 inches (22cm) in height. So I dominated him physically. As I pushed in him deeper, he never resisted, but seemed to love it.

God, I love natural bottoms.

Soon I was fucking him deeply. Pounding this little guy’s ass. He laid flat and I want covering him from head to toe.

His ass was tight but not too tight. He’d opened enough to keep a friction on my cock that pulled me close to the edge of cumming but never really pulled me over to where I couldn’t control it. This would be an ass I wanted to fuck again.

We decided to switch it up and he climbed on board to ride my cock. And boy did he ride! I thought I was close before, but this dude could edge me better than anyone in a while. He just knew a pace comfortable for him that happened to be perfect for me.

He turned around, still with my cock inside him, and laid on top, milking my cock inside him — the reverse of me covering him flat. Now his little body was flat on top of me. And at this angle, his ass just felt too good. I told him I wanted to cum soon.

“Wait,” he said. And jumped off my cock. He ran to the bedroom door and took out a body length mirror, positioning it at the end of the bed between the bed and a chest. It stood upright. As he sat up to ride, I could see my cock slide in and out of his ass. He could now see it too in the mirror.

I took my hit of poppers and went into my little space where only my cock and his ass existed. And I watched him ride. Oh, it felt too good.

“You want it?” I asked.

“Give me your load!”

It didn’t take long, as riding the crest of the wave for too long let me flood his ass. He could feel it as a grunted and I watched my cock pulse and throb, beginning to pump my juices into his ass. He sat on it deep. Taking it all in, then would take it to the edge of my cockhead popping it, then would plunge back down on it. My cock began to be slicked up with my own cum.

“Fuck yea!”

He started jerking his dick and riding my cock. Then he took his fingers, and played with his hole around the edges of my cock, riding it a little but staying still a lot.

My white jizz began to leak down the sides of my cock. You could see it plainly. And he groaned. Would sit on my cock, pushing the cum back into him and repeat the process, this time letting more baby batter out.

Then his hole clamped down on my cock and I felt him shoot. Blasts of his cum hit my ankle and calf.

The little fucker loved cum.

He cleaned me up and we promised a repeat.

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