All posts tagged FuckFuck

Gaucho De Niro Bends Over for My Cock

Gaucho
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My timing is a bit off over the last week or so. Not sure what the deal might be but I’ve found myself a little late or a little early. Friday I hit the local adult bookstore before heading home at the behest of a bottom for a quick breeding, missing him by about 10 minutes — or so he claimed via text. He’d bailed after getting “bred by the biggest cock there ever.”

Generally I’m not inclined to believe that shit except for the fact I ended up encountering a big-dicked guy who’s cock smelled like he’d unloaded deep in a raw ass. A raw ass that had failed to clean out very well and the top didn’t exactly hit the bathroom sink after the fuck.

Anyway, it’s a little disappointing that the bottom took one load and bolted. Still, the big-dicked top had probably stretched that ass out. But it left me with nothing around that evening but a slightly adequate blowjob by a bubba before heading home.

So Saturday morning, I vowed to find some ass and I headed back down again.

Again, I had the promise of a bottom. This time, a tight but older muscleman who failed to how up until at least 90 minutes after his appointed promised hour. Searching for him resulted in me ending up in a room with a Gaucho from Argentina.

If it weren’t for the fact we were in Georgia at an adult bookstore and he was at least 20 years younger, I’d swear he looked like Robert De Niro. Swarthy good looks with a smooth demeanor and the facial mole in almost the perfect place, he passed by me into a room and motioned me in before locking the door behind us. In a broken English and heavy accent, he asked what I’d do.

“I’m a top,” I said.

“I bottom,” he said.

Then his pants and shirt came off. Completely naked, his uncut pinga suspended between us before kneeling and sucking my cock to it’s full erectness as I too stripped down. He licked his hand as he stood and turned around. Despite having a whole room, he leaned against the wall and pulled my cock toward his hole.

He didn’t need to ask twice.

Most Latinos have just a bit of hair, especially along the crack of their ass. Some have a fair amount on their ass. This Gaucho didn’t. Nothing. Smooth. If he shaved, even the sensitive head of my cock didn’t detect the prickly pear stubble in finding his hole.

I slid part way and then encountered his ring. I pushed forward. He pushed back. It took some pressure for me to break through.

I needed to add more spit to give us enough lubricant and make it slick enough to really fuck. But pretty soon his face was pressed into the wall and he looked like I might press him deep into the drywall.

Moved him toward the crappy bed. Since opening the upstairs here, the fags have taken to slashing open the cushions so attempts at duct taping this one up had long since failed. We found a spot and I began pumping him in earnest.

He began saying I could come over to his house sometime and fuck him and his “daddy.” I slowed up enough to allow him to pull up a phone photo of a too-fat guy. Oh I don’t mind the older men and I especially like some beef, but this guy had a few too many miles and way too many pounds. My cock would never reach his hole.

“No man,” I said. “Just want to breed you.”

“Oh no,” he said. “No cum in mi culo. We use condom.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not cumming yet.”

Of course, this set off alarm bells for me. I reached for my shorts while he fumbled to put up him phone. My cock slipped out of his ass, of course. I pulled out my poppers. “Want some poppers?”

“Sí,” he said, then taking a snort. I took my snort then went to fucking.

“No cum yet,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” I said, lying. “You’ll know when I cum.”

His ass was so damn smooth. And while his chute was too, it had a wicked curve up that made really sticking it deep on a consistent basis tough. But I kept pace and knew it wouldn’t be too long. I began to fuck a little harder. He began to moan a little louder.

I didn’t care. I could feel him approaching his own orgasm but mine wasn’t too far off either. I closed my eyes and felt his hole began to spasm as I kept up the pace. And I began to release my load into his raw ass.

Then his ass seized up. It clenched down on my cock and I had to stop. I only hoped I wasn’t throbbing any more.

His ass got so tight, it began to squeeze me out. I looked down as I slipped out of his smooth ass and saw my cock slide out with a cum string remaining, connecting his asshole with my still hard and still wet cock. I wiped it off, but he turned around to see my hand on the head of my cock.

“Did you cum?”

“No,” I said. “Not yet. Did you?”

“Sí,” he said. “Feel good. Sorry I could not wait.”

“It’s alright,” I said. I was reaching for my pants as he reached for his clothes. “Where are you from?”

“Argentina,” he said.

“Cool,” I said, then thinking I’d never fucked an Argentinian.

“You sure you no cum?”

“Nope,” I said. “I’m very loud when I cum.”

Still, I left to head home quite satisfied. And he went home to daddy with my load inside him.

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Travel Diary: The Bisexual Booty… But Basically Bad

bad-fuck
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One of my favorite ads (and one of the most popular to get responses on Craigslist) is one calling for “room service” in my hotel room. It sets up an anonymous fuck scene that, for some reason, seems to attract some hot ass and, in many cases, bisexuals who don’t want locals to know they crave the dick.

On my recent travels out West, the ad worked its charm and I got several responses. But despite a very hot (gay) 23-year-old, I chose the bisexual 35-year-old who was sneaking around on his girlfriend. As I’ve outlined of late, I’ve got a couple of things that can really bug me: Men who smoke and men who send fake photos.

My top choice sent hot, hot, hot photos and promised he was a non-smoker.

The room service scene keeps the lights off. The victim… err… bottom comes in, disrobes, sucks me hard and then lays flat on the bed for me to fuck them until I cum. The bottom is then supposed to suit up and leave.

The bisexual arrived a little late, but still followed directions. As he sucked my cock, I got a whiff of that all-too-familiar but all-too-unpleasant scent.

Smoker.

Damn it.

Then the dude broke the rules and climbed on board. His dragon breath exhaling down on me. But like a fucking V8 piston, he rode me so quick, it kept me hard enough. Lucky for him.

But in the dim light of the crappy hotel room light, I could see him. In detail.

If this guy was 35-years-old, I looked 10 years younger than him. His photo that he sent definitely wasn’t him — at least not the face one. Gaunt and wrinkled, he had to be 10 years older than me.

Two rules broken.

I warned him I was close to cumming, not that I was. His ass didn’t feel bad but breaking one rule I might forgive but two didn’t deserve a load. I faked a cum shot, not even bothering with the poppers.

He left, thinking he’d satisfied. I got back online to see if the 23-year-old was still awake.

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I Faked It With You

bad-fuck
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If you’ve ever wondered why…

  • … your fuck never showed up on this blog.
  • … I didn’t call you back for a second fuck.
  • … you didn’t notice a lot of (or any) cum in your ass.
  • … I didn’t say “thanks” or give you a thumbs up.
  • … I pulled out, zipped up and walked away.

It’s probably because I faked it.

Like women, men can fake it too. It’s not like porn. I’m not pulling out for the money shot. A little Kegel work and you can learn to make your cock throb. Truth is, I can even inject a decent amount a precum if I want.

But often, I’ll just pick up the pace, breath a little heavy and get it done cause your ass isn’t worth the trouble.

Yes. I fake it.

No all the time, mind you. I’m pretty good at sniffing out bad ass. And sometimes it’s just that. Bad ass often smells bad. I’m not just talking the smell of shit, which can be fucking horrible.

Every once in a while, I get to fuck a piece of prime top ass. Tops, as I can attest both as one and one who has fucked many, do not have the know-how or experience to clean properly.

As I like to occasionally say, if you’re going to fuck ass, you’re going to have to put up with a little shit every once in a while.

But bad ass has another kind of stink to it. It’s an overused stench of ass juices, soured cum, unwashed dildos, diarrhea and vomit.

Not all bad ass stinks literally. Sometimes, the ass just stinks proverbially.

How can I explain this? Look, I’ve fucked men who are pigs with a loose asses. I’ve fucked tight asses on men. When you bareback, the connection between men is deeper. We’re skin-to-skin and that means you can’t always put up a barrier.

I’m not saying it’s some sort of “strings attached” fuck. But sometimes, you’ve got to tie a shoelace or two with the thought it’s going to get untied a little later.

Oh, and just to make a point, if you suck at sucking cock and don’t get to fucking quickly… well, that’s a problem too.

 

 

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The Lies Men Tell… Photos (Part 2)

the lies men tell
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Read Part One

Whether it’s a decade old photo or the time of our meeting, lying is the constant in the world of fucking. I have honed my own skills at determining who will be truthful and who will not.

For example, the veracity of photos provided by someone can be found in the details. A mole is here in this photo, can it be found there? Or does this photo include a Rubik’s cube and a cassette tape player in the background, indicating it’s clearly from the 1980s? Are the photos from a sequence (leading to further suspicion) or from different times and places? Do they look candid or professional?

Lately, the photo thing had struck a chord with me. I think the proliferation of Grindr, Scruff and other such sprouted more camera mavens insisting on evidence of legitimacy. One face pic is no longer adequate. I must provide multiples. Same with cock pics. Even more, to prove my prowess with fucking, I’ve been asked for video.

Not kidding.

Yes, more than once of late, people have insisted on video proof that I’m worth driving five miles for a fuck. I imagine soon I will need to begin to record myself throwing a few into an ass before anyone will believe I’m good at it.

Believe me, I have heard all the possible excuses on why some poor fucker doesn’t have a photo. No excuse. No more. If you’ve got a cell phone that doesn’t make photo, you’re a fucking idiot. Camera phone save lives and document moments that will forever be discussed on CNN. Your computer did not crash and destroy all your photos. And you can pretend you’re at work and have no photos there, but if so, what-the-fuck are you doing on Manhunt.net at that same company? Please. You’re just some self-hating fag.

Moreover, everyone in the photo trade had been burned one time too many. Some asswipe’s stiffed us and not sent us a pic, left us holding the bag and we, in turn, feel foolish for trusting. But that does not mean now you have the right to always go last in the trade.

All things equal, he who asks first, send first. No exceptions. If someone has posted an ad on Craigslist with a self-photo, that counts as a “sent photo.”

Otherwise, the bottom should send first. I don’t give a fuck if the bottom is 19 years old and hot as hell (or at least says he is).

  • If you unlock without any previous conversation, I’m under no obligation to unlock for you, even if you ask nicely. The whole unlock trade occurs with conversation, not independently.
  • If you show X-rated photos in your profile photos and then “unlock” photos, those unlocked ones should have a clearly available face pic. Else, I’m not obliged to unlock mine. If I unlocked mine first, you should e-mail me a clear face pic. Vice versa as well. If you show face, your locked pics should clearly show cock and/or ass.
  • The only time you have a right to “break the code” and not trade photos is when someone has egregiously lied. This means the following: A 20-year difference in age, a different race or completely different appearance. Otherwise, if you get a pic, you must respond with a pic. You’re welcome to tell the guy you’re not into him.
  • What you send is what you get. If you send me a tiny photo where you can’t see shit, I have the right to send you back a tiny photo where you can’t see shit. If your photo is blurry and you’re wearing sunglasses, I’m welcome to do the same.
  • Just because we both unlock photos does not mean we are meeting for a fuck. I believe in being fair. But my unlock doesn’t mean I’m suddenly into you.

I do study photos (as has been proven) and I can recognize when people lie. And most do lie.

On to Part Three, Test Results

The Problem with Bisexuals

bisexuals
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I’ve never truly believed in bisexuals. Okay, I believe people can be bisexual, but I don’t think men teeter-totter in the center between straight and gay.

As I wrote when I broke down the male population, Kinsey’s scale creates the only perfect spot in the middle of purely heterosexual (a zero) and purely homosexual (a six) if you place it at 3½. Most men will end up at a 3 or a 4, not directly in the middle.

Alas, that brings me to the spot I am now with a young man with whom I am debating. He so much wants to be used and abused as a bottom on his gay side yet maintain his use of women on his straight. He likes to think he can teeter-totter between the two worlds.

Or better yet, he thinks he can make a choice and then abide by it.

It’s as if someone who enjoys both pizza and cheeseburgers when, one day, he chooses to only eat cheeseburgers and avoid pizza for the rest of his life. Can he truly make such a transition?

Of course not.

I mean, bisexuals are pigs. There’s nothing hotter than a bi boy begging for your load — unless it’s a straight boy. But somehow fooling yourself into thinking you’ll actually join our club full-time is bullshit.

Now why am I not coming down hard on this little fucker and claiming he’s just another closet case who needs to get honest? Cause the honest truth is he’s fucked 10 times more girls than guys who have fucked him. It’s disappointing. If I had easy access, I’d try to train him into a cum-craving bottom like he should be.

But my best talent is a good read. And what I read is someone in conflict who won’t go quietly into a full-time life as a Kinsey 6.

This one, we lose.

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