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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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Ramses or TheBestHands or TheBestHandsGa

TheBestHands Works Out the Knots

Ramses

Available on MasseurFinder.com as TheBestHandsGa Open-New-Window-External and TheBestHands Open-New-Window-External
Email Ramses at MassagesByRamses@gmail.com mail
Also advertises on Craigslist.org in Therapeutic Services Open-New-Window-External

ramses-chest Highlights

bullet 32 year old, Latino, smooth, toned, 5-foot 8-inch, black hair, light goatee, non-smoker
bullet Massages in his briefs
bullet Deep tissue & Swedish combination with hot stones, cranial sacral & trigger point elements
bullet Massages on a table in a clean, serene space dedicated to massage
bullet 60 minutes for $80 or 90 minutes for $120 (in call) every day but Sunday
bullet Located in northwestern Atlanta/Buckhead between I-85 and Highway 400 near Lenox inside a gated apartment community
bullet Ramses has roommates but good privacy
bullet Happy endings as a hand-job

four-out-of-five-stars rating

Sometimes it’s about the massage.

In the past, I’ve just been lucky in my distant past to have massage therapists who give great massage and happy endings Opens new window of a page on this blog, but it’s been a while since that happened. Since then, I’ve been on a search for the perfect combination.

I’ll admit. For a while, I settled on a straight therapist who gave great massage but never touched my dick. My happy ending happened to be when he cradled my head in his broad hands and did something with his finger tips to seemingly cause tingles down my spine then he’d balance my Chakras. Now I’m not much of one for such bullshit, but I’ll admit I actually felt something and I felt better.

ramses-IIWhen I saw Ramses ad, I felt a little tingle too, but not in the same places as the straight guy.

I always like the exotics, that’s no secret. Ramses didn’t seem stuck-up, like a lot of the other guys. His rates were reasonable and he answered all my questions, assuring he was indeed trained in massage.

His massage space was well-lit and warm with one of those running water meditation things. Ramses was shy, or so it seemed. He didn’t try to engage in conversation at all other than asking me if I had any issues.

He stripped down to briefs. But his large nipples and naturally smooth, taught body proved to be a joy to watch (at least when I was face up).

The room was warm, linens clean and smelled fresh without some overpowering scent.

His hands weren’t large but I’ve got to tell you, those fingers found their way into some deep knots. His deep tissue techniques were truly deep to the point of getting a little painful. But when he really reached into some painful moments with his fingers and elbow, he would let his other hand venture to my butt cheeks and down toward my taint.

Pain and pleasure.

That mixture truly worked and reminded me to take deep breaths through it.

As our time progressed, he progressively got more sensual. Unfortunately, my hand would brush against him as well and I could sense this was something he did not like (which I later confirmed). Although he would tolerate mutual touch, his preference was to work on his client.

No problem, of course except that he had one of those bodies one might want to touch.

He did venture into my crack but his fingers barely touched my bunghole, even as I’d told him that I showered prior to my arrival. This seems to be a trend among most massage therapists. Unless he advertises prostate massage, he’ll stay away from the asshole. I don’t get why just touching it is so verboten.

When I flipped over, Ramses provided some terrific cranial sacral therapy beginning with just a touch of aromatherapy to open up my sinuses (which can get clogged when you’re face-down for an hour). He also integrated a little trigger point into this and I found that I started to relax nicely.

He worked on my arms and legs more before heading toward my cock to get intensely sensual. I did ask him to take off his shorts at this point. He hesitated but obliged so I got a wonderful view of his ass. He clenched his ass so my fingertips never accidentally ventured too deep. His uncut cock never really inflated any, showing me just how uninterested he happened to be in me and why he seemed to pull away.

Nothing close to oral ever happened and despite my assurance that my nipples provided absolutely no stimulation, his non-jacking hand seemed to work on my upper body. I’d informed Ramses that my erotic spots were all around my nutsack but maybe the language barrier prevented him from getting my concept.

Nonetheless, after 90 minutes of relaxation, touching and attention by a man with a gorgeous body and his expert manipulation of my cock, I found myself on the edge without any poppers.

When I cum, I begin shooting copious amounts early before I actually experience the orgasm. My cockhead swells and a lot of white spunk begins to spill out. He suddenly wants to stop. I encourage him on. He barely jerks me though it before he’s out the door, headed to bathroom to clean his hands.

Um…. you can’t get anything from jerking a guy off.

The boy was afraid of cum.

Forget about fucking him (or him fucking you, although he’s definitely a bottom).

And I was a little disappointed by the ending. But as I considered the whole experience, I realized just how competent Ramses happened to be. Impressively so. His massage truly provides “relief” from life’s stresses. His handjob work got me off sans poppers and I enjoyed it. If he relaxed a little and didn’t fear the sperm, it would be perfect.

Who am I kidding? It would be perfect if he sat on my cock.

ramses-ad

Abortion Tales #2: The Tweaker and the Tittie Twins

Abortion Tales #2: The Tweaker and the Tittie Twins

I’m getting too fucking old for this.

As I mentioned (and no one seems to want to read Opens a new window from this blog since the stats show only a few people have checked it out) I’ve been focusing on getting out of my job situation, so my attention has been focused elsewhere. However, I decided Wednesday evening since I’d be downtown for an appointment that it would be a convenient time to hit the adult bookstore Inserection and get a load out of my system.

Now, I was especially frustrated because I’d had a massage from a fucking hottie. He was naked. I was naked. He teased me for the hour, bushing against my balls and cock and all my erotic spots. When it gets to that moment for the happy ending, the massage ends abruptly.

I didn’t get off. He didn’t get a tip.

I knew Wednesday nights were not ideal at Inserection Opens a new window from this blog but usually I can find some ass. Since I would be in Atlanta anyway (I live in the far northern suburbs), I figured it would be worth a shot.

To improve my chances of ass, I always post an ad or two to Craigslist and BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window to let bottoms know a top will be at Inserection. Sometimes it works Opens a new window from this blog. And often with these posts, I’ll get messages from people asking that I skip Inserection and come to their place instead.

Sent away by a bottom

I get the usual assortment of messages. The old, ugly and overly used (Grade F Asses Opens a new window from this blog). A few interesting ones do show up, including one from a 28-year-old bottom. We get to texting and he invites me over.

He mentions he’ll be on his back deck.

It’s early evening and not quite dark. I expect though it’s an enclosed deck and he’ll be ass up and waiting.

I drive the three miles and pull up to the house, pulling into the driveway. I can clearly see the back deck where a man — obviously in his mid-40s — is standing. He’s not horrible looking or anything. I get out of the car and there’s that awkward moment. He comes down off the deck. As the awkwardness continues, I finally say, “Am I at the wrong place?”

“Yes, you are,” he says.

“Sorry about that,” I say, knowing I’m at the only home with this address with a man with an iPhone texting from a back deck.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he says as he shakes my hand.

Attempts at the adult bookstore

I get in my car and drive to Inserection adult bookstore, pay the $11 admission and begin cruising.

The crowd appeared thin and a few too many familiar faces walked among the groups. Also one of the worst cruisers is there: A man who slaps on a little makeup, a cheap wig, a bad blouse, panties, pantyhose and high heels.  I hesitate to call it a drag queen or a cross-dresser due to the horrible effort put into looking decent. There’s no effort. I don’t mind it’s a slut. Some guys are into it. That’s cool. But not me and it’s too aggressive.

Anyway, as I’m walking around, I eye an older man who’s big and bulky with big muscles wearing a tight t-shirt with protruding nipples. (Oh, and he’s got a wedding band.) He reads to me as a bottom. His cock is obviously small. He’s not going for any gloryholes. He wants his nips worked over.

With guys like this, their nips are the gateway to their ass, I know.

We hit a booth together. His shirt was up as I went to work. I’m great at nipple work; it’s one of my specialties. I had a boyfriend years ago who could cum just from my nip work. Within moments, I’ve got his four-inch cock rock hard. He’s groaning from all my nip nibbling, chewing, flicking, licking, twisting, contortion, punching, teasing, tickling, pulling, brushing, pinching and other manipulations…  both hard and soft. He’s got a bit of stink to him, which really isn’t my thing.

I’m moving my hands (when they’re free) to his ass. I am finding his asshole, which is dry but puffy. He either has hemorrhoids or he’s been fucked plenty. But he hasn’t been fucked today. As I poke and prod, he moves his ass away to prevent too much work.

Seems like this one isn’t going to work out.

He bends down to suck me. He does well, but not so irresistibly that I feel like I could cum from his blowjob. I thank him for his work and zip up.

About then, I get a text message from the supposedly 28-year-old bottom.

“ETA,” he asks, which means, “Estimated time of arrival.”

You can see our exchange on my iPhone.

I’d sent him a photo of my cock which barely showed my goatee. And my stats clearly stated in my ad that I was clean-shaven. But he’d ignored that.

I didn’t bother to point out that he obviously wasn’t 28 years old.

As we texted back and forth, him begging me to come over, me looking for ass among the dregs of humanity at the adult bookstore, soon a balding Asian began eyeing me.

Now we all know I have a little something for the more exotic among us.

As I stood upstairs by a vacant room, the Asian passed me and closed the door. But it didn’t lock. An unusual technique. Normally men step into the room with the door open and eye their object of interest.

I opened the door. He stood in the dim light, playing with his nipples through his shirt. I stepped into the room. He pulled up his shirt. His alabaster, perfect skin revealed, delightfully smooth with very nice pecs and nickle-sized nips just protruding out. But as soon as I flicked them, they stood erect.

His cock, a respectable five inches, never really got so hard. And his ass, so nice and smooth and bubbly. I stepped behind him while still working his nips. I felt his asshole, his pucker perfectly dry. He didn’t pull away. I spit on my cock and aimed it at his hole.

He was much smaller than I was. I took again his nipples in my fingertips. This man preferred the light touch and I knew how to really work them that way too. I did it in a way he’d enjoy. All I needed him to do was arch his back a little so his asshole would line up better with my cock.

As I continued, with my wet cock tickling his sphincter and pleasuring his nips, his ass never moved. But he jerked intensely and he breathed heavily.

He was getting close.

Fuck that. I wasn’t going to get someone else off if I wasn’t getting what I wanted.

I dropped everything. Pulled up my pants and was out the locked door. He didn’t even have time to pull down his shirt or pull up his pants. He stood there exposed, wide-mouthed as I walked out, the door wide open.

He recovered after a couple of beats and closed the door.

The texting continued with the bottom. He wanted to know when I shaved the beard off (I’m interviewing for jobs, so I was told to shave it off by a few recruiters; plus it just looks nicer during the summer).

I wonder around and get a couple of attempted blowjobs but no ass action. One guy even asked me to piss in his mouth, but no ass.

Back to the bottom

Finally I decide to head back over to fuck and breed the bottom who earlier turned me away.

I drive up and this time, he’s a bit more welcoming. He meets me and we step up onto the deck, but go inside the house.

It is between now and the next 20 minutes that I should have left because it’s that long before we start doing a fucking thing. He first has to prepare a daybed. It’s got something like 30 pillows on it. Then he can’t find the remote to turn off “The Voice,” which is blaring on the television. He keeps searching his closet for something — for what, I’m not sure. He also refreshes his drink.

Then he gets lube — petroleum jelly — an unusual choice.

Finally he’s ready.

All through this, he’s chomping gum. And I mean CHOMPING it. I’m suspecting Tina use, but maybe it is just gum. But he is darting around his place like a crystal meth user cleaning. But I also noticed that drink is a pretty strong alcohol, so I’m guessing he’s a little buzzed.

When he finally gets on the bed to suck me, he takes breaks to work his jaw.

No gum.

He’s tweaked out of his gourd.

He can’t suck for than a few seconds without pausing in order to work his jaw. I’m afraid he’s going to bite my cock off. That fear drives me to take control.

I put him on his back. He puts some petroleum jelly on my hard cock.

“That’s a big one,” he says. “I’m not sure I can take it.”

I’m rubbing some jelly into his ass. I probe it a little. As my fingertip works past the sphincter, I touch the tip of something. I touch the tip of a small turd. Yes, a turd.

“I’m really going to need you to use a condom,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got some condoms.”

Now he’s saying this as I am touching a turd and using petroleum jelly.

This guy must know he’s not clean but he’s also a complete idiot since petroleum jelly breaks down a condom Opens a new window from this blog.

But I’m horny. I’m fucked sloppy holes. At least his isn’t nasty.

I position him up, putting his legs over my shoulders. I don’t ask. I just put my cock at his hole and put it in. It breaks in.

It’s not pleasant.

The small, hard turd moves toward his prostate and becomes a rough rock scratching against the underside of my cock.  He’s trying to resist me, but I keep pressing forward.

“What are you doing?” he says.

“Fucking you,” I say.

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you,” he says. “You don’t have to be mean.”

“You’ve done nothing but jerk me around all day,” I say.

I begin fucking in earnest. I try to aim down to get that turd out of my way. But that little hard piece of shit won’t move and I’m more and more afraid it’s actually going to scratch my cock and add fecal matter into a wound on my cock.

I can’t focus on fucking. He’s chomping a lot. He’s jerking. He’s moving too much, squirmy even. It’s all not working for me. As horny as I am, that’s all I can do. I’m not going to be able to cum even though I’ve got something like two weeks worth of blue balls.

I pull out.

“This isn’t going to work,” I say.

“Huh?”

I begin putting on my clothes.

“Oh,” he says. “This is revenge for me turning you away earlier.”

“No man,” I say. “You’re not clean.”

Then the dude does the craziest thing ever. He sticks his finger in his ass, pulls it out and sniffs it.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Believe me,” I say. “You’re not.”

He disappears into another room. In a couple of seconds, he returns with a white towel, wiping his ass.

“See,” he shows me a clean white towel. “My ass is perfectly clean.”

“Look,” I say. “You’ve got a small, hard turd right up against your prostate. It’s scratching my cock and making it uncomfortable to fuck you. Beside that, your working your jaw on Tina is driving me fucking crazy. I hate fucking with tweakers. You have a nice one.”

He stands there shocked and naked as I walk out the door.

I go home. Blue balls. Still.

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Key West Postcard

Travel Diary: A Little Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Memorable

It’s funny how things don’t work out the way one plans.

I arrived in Key West on a Wednesday night. I expected a build up of ass to peak with a crescendo over the weekend and a tapering off until I left the following Wednesday.

Alas, that did not occur.

Not that I was hunting for hole. In a way, I expected it to find me. I had offers, but I decided to be a bit picky rather than accepting just any ass thrown my way. Interestingly, I think the whole relaxing and doing nothing actually calmed down my hormones and made me crave ass less. Plus I got my fill of naked boys and attention at clothing optional destinations including my B&B and the nightclubs I frequented.

After the weekend concluded and Monday inched along, that itch rose a bit and I realized I’d built a hefty load in my balls that needed to find a home — and soon.

Unfortunately, BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window showed little sign of life, with Scruff and Grindr not too far behind and Jack’d so far netted me nothing. I posted on Craigslist using a generic top looking for bottom post and lucked up with a few potentials. I’d been posting on CL for a while — mostly my “top blogger coming to town and looking for bottom inspiration” ads with little luck (except for the hot guy who’d blown me off).

I got a mixture of responses, a few of which were legit among the flakes. One caught my eye and it wasn’t just the fact he was 20 years old Latino visiting the island. He’d offered his phone number early in the exchange and we began texting almost immediately after when he asked, out of the blue: “Are you the top blogger?”

“Blogger?”

“I figured you were,” he answered, without a confirmation. “It’s really cool if you are.”

“What are my chances if I am?” I wrote back.

“I’d say your chances are really good.”

Within a few minutes, we were meeting on Duval Street and headed back to my B&B.

In shorts, flip-flops and a Hollister t-shirt, he looked like the vision of someone from an advertisement. Smooth with very few specks to even call freckles dotting his face, he was perfectly tan and his wavy black hair just cropped perfectly against his scalp. His deep hazel eyes glanced me over as I took his broad hand into mine and we shook. He was warm — not as much in demeanor as in physically, like he’d just crawled out of a tanning bed.

Our chit chat seemed almost about nothing important as we compared our lodging choices. Soon we were walking through the gate and into the courtyard. I gave a little tour of the property and we ended up in my room. With the enthusiasm of his age, he soon removed all his clothes.

His body proved to be one of those not-an-ounce-of-extra-fat-or-flesh perfection. A mixture of tan and olive, his smooth skin was blemished rarely by a freckle. He didn’t contain any extra muscle either, so he didn’t pack on huge pectorals. His legs were almost hairless and he’d shaved his pubes off. His balls, drawn tight up into his cock, looked hairless as well.

I moved in closer but he pushed me away.

“I don’t really kiss,” he said.

I tried not to seem disappointed, but I was. His fat lips seemed too inviting for me not to lick just a little.

“You still suck, don’t you?” I motioned toward my cock.

He didn’t answer, instead moving toward my half hardness and  moving his mouth over its delicate skin.

He needed more practice but not bad. He kept his lips and mouth frozen while the bobbing of his head provided all the friction to bring me up to full mast. Still, I didn’t care. I played with the hair on the top of his head and then pulled him up and moved toward his cock. All the while I let my fingertips dance across his body until my mouth found the tip of his cock.

Yes, I sucked his cock and he inflated to an impressive 8 inches. Much larger than I dared reach. And fuck if he wasn’t thick with a slight bend to the left. The impressive size seemed even more humongous thanks to all the missing hair. Honestly, this boy wasn’t too hairy or had been shaving for a long while as I didn’t sense any prickly around his cock base.

I went for the balls — a little rougher, mind you, but still very smooth. Youth, it seems, can be so very tasty. As I began to lift his legs, he didn’t stop me and I went in search of his hole by taste.

My tongue found a crevice but it didn’t seem right. I pulled back.

What I saw happened to be among the most unique sights ever.

Most people have a ring around the rosie, so to speak. The external sphincter’s fleshtone appears a little darker or lighter, depending on the man. Sometimes it’s a few rings.

Not him. His skin maintained its perfectly olive bronzed tone up until his asshole, which appeared as nothing more than tiny folds like a quarter-inch crucifix. I’d never seen an ass like his. I wondered if he had any sensitivity in his ass.

As I returned my tongue to his ass, I soon discovered my answer.

His thick 8-incher had been hard but very pliable — like a dildo. But as I went to work and the cross-shaped pucker widened, his cock became more rigid — more similar to a vibrator. Soon it grew even thicker and longer. It stood in place, attention as the most dedicated soldier.

As with any 20-year-old, he hadn’t quite learned to share attention, used to the men who lathered upon him kudos on his good-looks and great body. But he took the subtle direction well as I reached for some Spunklube Link Opens in a New Window and began to spread it on his asshole and use my fingertips to tease that holy hole open just a bit more.

I righted myself, proceeding to poke my cockhead against the hole.

“Mind if I sit on it?” he asked.

“Works for me,” I said, rolling off and onto my back.

My cock too was rigid and pointing at my belly button. A string of precum dangled off in anticipation as he maneuvered in front and slowly lowered himself. But he did so without hesitation, with ease and sat down completely to the hilt within moments.

He was a natural bottom.

We’d never discussed condoms and, as he’d read this blog, knew I’d bareback. He seemed at ease with the fucking and enjoyed it, but didn’t vocalize a lot. Truth is, I’m not very loud either.

His chute adhered to my cock so smoothly, it was a fuck never to forget. Like a key sliding into a slot with just enough space for a perfect fit, his ass walls just seemed to fold into every skin fold of my cock. At first, he would move a lot to try to give me pleasure — something I found humorous since the movement seemed almost robotic, just like his sucking. However, thanks to his perfectly pliable ass, it didn’t feel robotic as the skin’s friction would give way just perfectly.

I soon found myself losing control of my own choice of when to cum.

I suggested he relax and let me do the fucking. Interestingly, he’d read my 11 Commandments for a True Bottom Opens a new window from this blog and attempted to adhere to at least some of them, even asking permission to play with his own cock.

“Just don’t cum first,” I said. “I want to be sure I get to cum.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “The fucking isn’t over if I do cum.”

That made me want to test it out by having him cum on my cock then letting me fuck him with his cum, but I dare not risk not being able to load this boy up.

We settled into a leisurely pace and soon I put him on his stomach, staring at his hairless and smooth bubble butt before shoving my cock inside and mounting up for the breeding of his life. I snorted poppers and let myself lose control, asking him only once if he wanted it.

“Yes,” he said. “Give it to me.”

That one positive response was enough that I lost it in that perfect hole and began to flood it. And when I say flood, I mean flood. Since I hadn’t cum in about a week, I let loose a torrent out of my balls that soon lubricated that space between my cock and his ass walls. I pushed it in deeper.

“Just don’t cum inside me,” he said.

Oops, I’m thinking. It’s a little too late.

As I’d mentioned, we’d been fucking very quietly so I hadn’t really done the whole, “I’m cumming,” and grunting thing. I just generally don’t make a show of it. And here I am, pushing my cum deeper inside him and he’s asking me not to cum inside him.

I pretend like I’m having a build up to cum and I pull out and grunt, pretending to cum with my head on his back. As he knows about the truth now, he’s probably thinking “did I or did I not feel the splash of cum on my back?”

The funny thing: As I rolled off of him, he climbed right back into my cock and rode it until he squirted. And let me tell you, he squirted all over. Some went over my head, some landed on my cheek, my chest, etc. He looked away for a moment and I tasted it, just to sample some from the fountain of youth. He’d never know. After all, we weren’t kissing.

We chatted for a bit. Luckily he never put on his shirt until he left. I’d gladly have kept him there all night. But I sure as hell missed the kissing part. He asked if I would write about him and I expressed that I wanted to, knowing that I’d bred him and wondering if he’d really noticed.

He requested I withhold his home state and where he was staying as well as any photos he’d sent me, which I reluctantly agreed in order for you, dear reader, to read this. The rest is basically true, most especially the part about me breeding his ass when he asked me not to do so.

If he’d really been reading my blog, he’d know I always make a deposit. I don’t fuck with condoms and I don’t pull out. No matter how hot, how young or how great your ass is. As a matter of fact, the hotter, younger or better your ass, the more I can guarantee I’m going to breed it.

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Travel Diary: We Hold These Truths to Be Evident

Travel Diary: We Hold These Truths to Be Evident

My self-imposed exile from this blog did not mean my cock went limp and my life stopped. Interestingly enough, not many people have reacted to my holiday. A dozen comments or so with a few mocking. Fuck off. I could care less.

But as I traveled of recent, boredom overtook, luring me into posting an ad that resulted in a hook up. At his request, my preferred scenarios would be played out. He’d come into my hotel room, strip, lay down and I’d fuck him. In fact, he specifically asked for 10 to 15 minutes of fucking before departing. No kissing. No sucking. Just raw fucking. He e-mailed from outside the hotel making sure I was hard.

Standing in the darkness, my cock slicked with Gun Oil, I stroked it beyond half hard and waiting for the common sound. He knocked politely then the door opened, the garish hallway fluorescents invaded then faded as the door slammed shut. I heard his clothes rustle and then saw him round the corner and land on the bed.

His six-foot frame across the ivory comforter proved to be all I needed. My cock snapped to full mast. No need for jacking. I stripped my shirt off, already without pants and hopped onto the bed.

My fingertips brushed against his skin and something passed between us, electric. While he couldn’t see me, he moaned, so I knew he felt it too. I didn’t delay, finding his asshole between the perfect mounds of smooth flesh. As I touched him, hints of manly musk and soap dusted the air around us.

Beneath me, I knew this man-creature could be something more than just another fuck. While he didn’t purr like a cat, I could feel as if this motor ran inside him. A kind of engine generating a heat that emanated from within him. Part of me wanted to believe it some sort of perpetual clock but another, more ominous part worried it a countdown timer with a bomb. Exactly how long until the explosion remained a mystery.

So my cock, rigid at its full seven inches, throbbing and anticipating what would come next, was bent with my right hand to meet my left, already teasing his hole. And I pressed the mushroom head, slick with oil and precum against the pucker. He arched his back and eased it in.

He groaned and moved slowly to meet my building pressure to push my entire rawness into his hole.

Not all holes feel the same. Each one feels different. Like a fingerprint, the sensation can be unique and the impression can be unlike any other. First, his had a warmth, a few degrees hotter than any other. Its formfitting tightness, of course, felt good. But then this throbbing and vibration began in his manhole. He worked it on his own, of course, but the movement seemed almost beyond his control — involuntary. The milking motion and more began to bring be closer to the edge but I resisted, knowing I’d been inside of him less than a minute.

Usually, I don’t give a shit. I’m about my own pleasure. But suddenly, with this bottom, I have something to prove. I’m going to make it to the 10-minute mark.

The sensation so enjoyable fades as I move my mind in another direction and I let it pass. Instead, I look down at the body beneath me, pumping in concert with me. I let myself touch him, not to force him deeper on my cock, but to feel his skin. It’s just below the left shoulder blade. Just beneath his skin, I could feel his muscles moving. His skin felt warm and a kind a charge seemed to keep my hand glued there as I glided it over his body, joined by my right hand. Soon I touched his shoulders, his back, his waist, his ass, then up and around to his abs to his pec and found his nipples, where he groaned in pleasure.

I didn’t stop there. I touched all I could, even his incredibly thick cock, rock hard and vibrating like his ass. Now I knew where it was coming from.

He was the first to break the silence.

“Oh man, that cock feels so fucking good.”

The ticking time bomb. I wondered. But finally, I asked.

“Would you like to try a different position?”

A beat. A pause. Like an eternity. He responded a simple, “Yea.”

My cock slid delicately and he scooted over. His eyes remained closed until my cock entered him again and they flew opened. He looked at me. His eyes didn’t close back. Maybe, just maybe, he liked what he saw.

My gaze broke away from his and glanced over the perfection of his body. While not muscularly defined, he defined masculinity. While perfectly smooth, the perfection of his body felt brutish. I leaned over just to smell him.

Intoxicating.

And the seconds blurred into minutes. His hole, a pleasure tunnel, incredible and immeasurable in my penetration as I attempted to find how far I could reach. His nipples would pleasure him with just the lightest touch, so I would work them. Not hard. Just right. I made sure he received pleasure, not just from my cock, but from my fingertips.

I didn’t contemplate at the moment why I actually wanted this man to enjoy his time with me. Now as I sit here writing about it, the intensity between us seems almost real. Something I can touch. Like his body. His incredible body. Just beneath my fingertips.

He stroked his thick cock.

“Shoot your load, man,” he said. “Fuck me really hard.”

I picked up the pace after snorting some poppers.  Then I popped, breeding his ass. And he shot, across that chest, streams of cum, white and juicy. I had to resist licking it. Touching it. Feeling it. I wanted his DNA as much as he wanted mine.

“That was fucking hot,” he said as I rolled off him.

We didn’t speak much as he left. I didn’t know what to say.