All posts tagged foot

Ramses or TheBestHands/TheBestHandsGa

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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

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Daved (or David): Once Muscled, Now Wasted by Tina

Muscle-bound Daved? David isn't like this any more
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Once Muscled, Now Wasted by Tina

Daved (or David)

Available on MasseurFinder.com as TheNakedMasseur Link Opens in a New Window

Highlights

bullet Fortysomething years old, 6-foot-1-inch, 165 pounds or less, small waist
bullet Massages nude
bullet Claims Swedish, deep tissue and sports; at one point probably was talented
bullet Massages on a table or a bed; table is in a living room; bed might sometimes includes his roommate who’s usually texting
bullet 60 minutes for $65, but he like money and cum, so he might do it for less or for a load

bullet I-85 near Clairmont Road, just off Northeast Expressway; sketchy The Avenues Apartment complex

Muscle-bound Daved? David isn't like this any more. This photo is obviously from years ago.

two-out-of-five-stars rating

Both Daved and Antonio Opens a new window from this blog live in the same inexpensive apartment complex just off Interstate 85 — Daved in the back north corner while Antonio is in the southern front.

He’d sent the same photo posted here that’s also posted on his MasseurFinder profile Link Opens in a New Window.  It’s sad because it’s obvious this guy was once incredible. Or at least the photo appears to be of a man with an incredible body. Based on what I saw and experienced, indeed he did.

He seemed anxious when I arrived, but I later figured out had to be from the use of crystal meth. He wasn’t tweaked out of his gourd — a saving grace considering the massage.

But our massage time was interrupted because he kept leaving supposedly to warm up the oil. I didn’t need the oil warmed up. I needed a massage. His work lacked a steady nature but he’d obviously been trained at some point, so his own muscle memory betrayed the “hurry up to the fucking” part.

He did happen to be naked and his former musculature was apparent, although he’d obviously not cared for his skin very well. Additionally, he rather likes having his nipples yanked, bitten and abused, so they’re rather distorted and out of whack.

The good news is Daved goes bareback without hesitation. He’ll give you a blowjob. Swallow. And gladly take your cock up his ass.

The bad news is basically he’s pretty passive. If I’m going to get a massage (and pay for it), I expect the masseur to get me off. If I’m lucky enough to fuck him, I want him to climb on board and ride me.

Moreover, the sensual experience leading up to the explosive ending should be a journey. It should have me at the doorstep of orgasm when he slides me inside. Basically, for the hour or 90 minutes prior, I should have been teased so my leaking cock is ready.

Instead, I ended up taking control, bending him over the table and fucking him senseless.

Rather than paying the full amount, he was so glad I bred him, he wanted less money.

A few months later, he invited me to come by again for a “free massage.” When I stopped off, I wasn’t the first to arrive and massage wasn’t happening. He was on the bed getting fucked while his roommate seemingly ignored things and texted. And this time, Daved/David was tweaked out of his gourd.

No thank you.

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Furry Fuck Jizzjoy

furry chest of a bottom
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Let me make one thing clear: I am an equal opportunity fucker.

Sure, I’ve got my thing for the exotics — Asians, Latins and the smooth twinks that occasionally cross my path. But you don’t have to be in your twenties or smooth for me to fuck you.

I’m at work and my iPhone hits BBRT Link Opens in a New Window. I use it to kill my long-ass days on the job or maybe to plan a hook-up. Lately, I’ve been walking into the office at 6:30 a.m. or a little earlier. I’ve been in the office almost an hour with the drudgery of my fucking 10-hour day already giving me a throbbing headache when I get a message.

“If you don’t mind heading to my neck of the woods, I’d be glad to take your load.”

Turns out his neck of the woods is the same godforsaken suburb of Atlanta I’m working in. Odd but exhilarating since I’m almost 28 miles as the crow flies from my homebase. This thirtysomething hot fucker picked me from the collection of folks online.

I respond, letting him know we’re in the same town. And since his profile is nice enough to show face, I unlock my photos.

I’m no prize. I’m in my mid-forties, could stand to lose another 10 pounds, an admitted nerd and completely comfortable in my own skin. My cock is seven inches and, if you lick my balls, it swells just a little more to make it maybe almost seven-and-a-half. I’ve had men suck me hard at gloryholes only to walk away because my cockhead barely long enough to make them choke (and it points the wrong way).

As I said, I’m no prize.

When a half-hour had passed, I wasn’t surprised that my local boy hadn’t responded.

Beside, he was six foot four inches tall with jet black hair and a thick goatee with sideburns almost to the point of a President Lincoln beard. His piercing dark brown eyes and barrel chest made him a handsome figure with almost a menacing look except for some softness around the edges. I figured him out of my league and, well, he probably looked my geekiness over and decided something else might suit him better.

Such is life.

Then, a little while later, I got a couple of messages in rapid succession.

First one told me how much he loved my blog.

Next one gave me his address.

We started texting and before I knew it, he actually texted me a photo of himself reading my blog (apparently inspired by a particular entry Opens a new window from this blog). I told him I’d come by for lunch. He promised to be ready and for the next few hours, we texted back and forth a variety of thoughts.

Apparently, he ran across a few entries regarding my particular like of the smooth Asians, pointing out that if I were to expect anything short of furry, I’d be disappointed. And I reassured him that I happened to be an equal opportunity fucker.

Throughout the time we chatted, my cock would rise up in my jeans and alert me again and again of the nearing of the hour when I could leave. I had a conference call just before lunch, which I found difficult to concentrate.

When I finally clocked out and got to my car, punching in his address, his home happened to be less than five minutes from my office.

Fuck.

I was in his driveway so damn quick and when I approached his door, he opened it. We went immediately to his room and before the door finished closing, he was on his knees.

He’d obviously been reading plenty. In fact, I could see my blog still open on his computer. His mouth didn’t head for my cock but for my balls. Straight at them. With ever so light the touch, his oral skills apparent, he began caressing my balls and licking them. My cock snapped to attention and I could see a glistening of precum already.

This hot man would get a juicy assful.

As he continued his oral work, he would eventually let his mouth envelope my cock with his warmth on this chilly October day. My pants and underwear still around my ankles, I knew this wouldn’t be a quick fuck. I’d enjoy myself.

We paused long enough for me to slip my jeans, underwear and shoes off. I hopped onto the bed and spread my legs so he could get at my balls easier — especially since I’d shaved them earlier in the week.

He spit liberally on my cock as he finished up the blowjob and then climbed up and began to take a seat — just like I love to begin the fuck. He’d come out of the shower a little earlier and I could feel the squeaky tightness of the water-washed ass as he tried to sit on me. Without a foreskin, it hurt just a touch, because my rock-hard cock attempted to penetrate into that tightness.

Then I felt it begin to break through. His jaw clenched. I knew he felt the initial pain-pleasure mix of that invader entering him. But soon the pain began to leave his face, replaced only by pleasure.

I moved my hands up his belly, rubbing the black fur on his broad chest, pulling his shirt up. At six-foot-three myself, it’d been a while since I’d fucked someone my size. Even the larger men didn’t happen to be the same height. This man probably had twenty pounds on me. I liked his strength over me, riding my cock into a kind of submission. His meaty hands as large or even larger than mine. But his hairiness.

We were both taking from each other what we wanted.

His cock now swelled even larger. Where I had length, he had girth. The fucker’s cock would be something to get inside an ass. I’d heard of a beer can and now I felt one.

We fucked with abandon, saying nasty things to one another until he uttered the words I needed to hear: “I want your load.”

“You ready for it?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Let me fuck you from behind,” I said.

While I love to start with a man sitting on, there’s nothing like finishing on top of a man’s ass. I went inside him and wrapped my arms around him, my lips at his ear. My fingers went into the hairs of his chest right under his heart.

I’d snorted my poppers and I began asking him if he wanted my load.

“Yes please,” he said. “Give me your load. Please give me your load. I want your load. Please give it to me. Please. Please. Please.”

As I fucked, I went to my happy place where all that existing was my cock, his raw hole and his voice begging for my cum. And soon I went over the edge.

The moment I shoot, I come out of my daze and return to reality. And in that moment, he said, “FUCK!”

His ass clenched down.

And the most unique thing ever happened.

I know jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window exists. I’ve heard bottoms describe it. But with this man, I could FEEL it happen. You see, men can clench an ass. They can milk a cock. They can give pleasure. But this man knew my cum was flooding his ass. He was feeling my cock throb and shoot the load inside him.

As it did, my fingertips could feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest. Now, I knew he never snorted poppers. But his body was reacting as if he had. His heart picked up pace. He went into a kind of hyperventilation. We were connected by cock, cum and heartbeats. I FELT his jizzjoy throughout his body. Not just in his ass.

He loved my cum and cock inside him.

While I would have to remove my cock from that hairy ass in a moment, I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay inside him and breed him again.

Hopefully he would invite me back to breed this beast again. And again.

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What Gay Porn Needs

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Do you pay for porn?

Let’s be honest. You probably don’t. Oh maybe you’ve got a monthly membership somewhere or you do a pay-per-view every once-in-a-while, but paying for porn? Naw.

When’s the last time you bought a DVD?

2008?

DVDs are going the way of the compact disc, which is almost as dead as the cassette, which is fading like vinyl records, which has almost met the fate of eight-tracks. Some of you kids out there probably never even heard of eight-tracks or can imagine a day when your song actually got interrupted to switch tracks (not that you even know what a “track” is). You probably don’t even recall having to buy a whole album in order to get that one song you liked.

Lordy, I’m getting old. And my brain is getting addled and off track itself. Getting back to the point.

Porn needs a reboot.

I don’t mean we need it in 3-D IMAX or hook up our Fleshlight to a USB port. Porn needs to change.

Look, I love porn like everyone else. I’ve watched as Treasure Island Media and other places try to capture the magic of “Dawson’s 20 Load Weekend” by adding more loads and more hot guys and more dirty talk. Or just film more scenes and put them out there. More niches for the fetishes that drive people to pay a little. We think that foot or diaper or foot-in-diaper fetish might get more people interested.

Look at the explosion of Tumblr, XTube and whatnot, though. It’s all free. Fucking free. No one wants to pay.

Essentially, I am a porn website. Sure, I have a little more than porn on here, but getting guys to jerk off is what drives thousands of people every day to click on one of the iBLASTinside websites (including this blog, the Bareback Brotherhood Opens a new window from this blog website and the BarebackWiki Opens a new window from this blog). I’ve added some advertising to see if I can recoup some of the cash I’ve expended to assist in my own little adventure.

<b>Do you know how much I make?</b>

<sarcasm on>Oh I’m rolling in the dough.</sarcasm off>

Annually, I get a little more than $300 from advertising. The cost to run everything? In excess of $750 annually. That doesn’t include the time investment. And let me be clear about that time investment. The time I spend writing is mostly for me and a kind of catharsis and relief. However I spend several hours every month maintaining the sites working to stay ahead of the ever-evolving cyber-attacks.

In other words, this is not a lucrative adventure. BBBH, the Wiki and this doesn’t even break even. 

Thankfully, my sites garner enough attention and I get enough satisfaction to keep me up and going. Moreover, it’s from this place and my perch that I can sense what is needed.

While the DVD goes the way of the dodo bird and for-pay porn slowly descends, I can tell you my little ad adventure isn’t working out. In my other so-called “real life” career in marketing, I can tell you that advertising in the traditional way doesn’t gain the attention from consumers it did in “Mad Men” days. Further, consumers distrust advertising more and more. Even in the digital realm, getting a consumer to “click” on an ad is close to impossible.

How can gay porn get the viewing audience to tune back in and actually pay for it?

Creating Demand

Demand must come at a level where the consumer is willing to part with some of that cash. That means more than insert tab A into slot B.  Demand is an emotion and, while lust works on many levels, it’s amorphous when considering just as good-looking men reside for free a few other places on the Internet.

One must combine that lust with other craving emotions to drive consumers to pay to view.

Multi-Use Content

Porn companies would take the moments and snap photos and, of course, write a scene-by-scene description of the action.  Reusing this content allowed extra cost benefit to the bottom line.

But multiple uses for the same content doesn’t have to be different mediums. There’s other options to using content and reaching different and new audiences.

Cum-Generating Performance

Porn really is about the viewer shooting his wad and then tuning out. Treasure Island Media sort of figured this out by adding the cum scenes onto the DVD as a separate feature. Now with online porn, everyone moves the slider or we watch 1½-minute videos with what we want. We get bored with sucking for half an hour before the fucking starts.

Then there’s sites like mine. Men read mine for the story, the plot, the set-up. Today’s porn doesn’t really bother any more with the shitty concepts of the pizza delivery man or cousin sleepover, although we all seem to want it.

Porn must bring back the plot (but not in a crappy acting way) and make men cum but not before it’s time. And if men only have 1½ minutes and want to squeeze one out to our content, we must know how to provide that.

Keep Coming Back

The way porn worked is by a loyalty system. Men become loyal to a studio, to an actor or to a director (or perhaps some combination thereof). A love of everything mega-bottom Dawson or anything from Treasure Island Media or super UK director Liam Cole. Generating enough content to keep consumers jacking means a close to impossible situation because capacity is only so much.

That’s why people by droves have switched over to XTube. Now finding people to whom they sort of like and can subscribe, the content is delivered as soon as another crappy video gets posted.

Admittedly, some videos aren’t that crappy.

Put the Formula Together

I know I’m being vague. It’s on purpose because I’ve got solutions (multiple) that could create a lucrative experience and reboot gay porn. Fuck, let’s call it adult-oriented entertainment.

If I type it all here, some fucker at some studio would take it, put his spin on it and run with it. Ideas can’t be copyrighted or patented. I can’t get a payday by giving it all away.

It’s time porn step it up and someone in it decided that pushing the boundaries was time. We need a change.

I have what gay porn needs.

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Drunk

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He was drunk.

Barely 6 o’clock in the afternoon, and his body reeked of the alcohol he’d likely been pouring into it since noon or even earlier. Surprising he could stand upright. Cute enough, in the dim lights of the upstairs area of the adult bookstore, he looked rather young. Now up close, my suspicions were confirmed. At 24 or 25, he stood a little over 5-foot-8. His skin was dark, but he wasn’t African American.

I’d only been here a few minutes and hadn’t had enough time for my eyes to adjust to the interior when we were already in a room. My nice 7 inches standing up and his curved 5 inches uncut cock.

“What do you get into?” he asked. His breath was heavy with vodka.

“I’m a top,” I said. “What about you?”

“I like to get fucked.”

“Good.”

That’s all it took. He never sucked me. He just dropped his pants lower and bent over.

His ass was smooth and dark as well. Tan? No. I felt his perfect little ass. A nice amount of meat on it. When I found the pucker, the lube and possibly previous loads there. I lined my cock up and pushed in.

He didn’t make a sound. I just fucked. I fucked hard. I fucked soft. I moved passionately. I motioned with purpose. And then I started getting toward the point where I was finally getting close. But this bending over shit wouldn’t work.

Despite the awkward nature of our pants around our ankles, I told him to move up on the room’s platform mattress and lay down. He wasn’t playing with himself. He just let me do the work. So I mounted him and began to really fuck with purpose.

After a snort of poppers, I went into a zone where my cock just slid in and out of his ass. He had a good amount of friction and it led me to that point of no return. Soon I was grunting. And I began to shoot into his ass. I let it all go. All my cum. I didn’t ask whether he wanted it. I just simply unloaded.

I took a moment to recover. He remained quiet and still.

I unmounted, the cock coming out of his ass. I stood. He scrambled up behind me.

“Thank you very much,” he smiled, his white teeth glistening.

“Where are you from,” I asked.

“India,” he responded.

“Nice,” I said. “My first Indian.”

“Huh?” he said.

“Never mind,” I responded.

I left him. He probably looked for more cock, but I headed home.

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