Tag Archives: gentleman

#CloseGhost

#CloseGhosts and My Recent Travels

You can’t see them. You can’t touch them. You just knew that one moment they were there and the next, they were gone. Is it a mystery? Some phenomenon worthy of Bigfoot, the Bermuda Triangle and what pills Paula Abdul takes before going on air?

Probably not.

I call them #CloseGhosts. And I’ve recently had close encounters of the plentiful kind them on recent travels.

With the conviction of a serial killer who proclaims his innocence, these lovely bottoms in far away cities and town lurk upon websites (like BarebackRT.com or this blog), Twitter or other online hook-up destinations, assuring traveling a top when he arrives in their town, city or other geographic region that an ass will be ready to fuck at his demand.

Alas, a phenomenon occurs when that top arrives and is in close proximity to the bottom. The cum dump vanishes into thin air, often with some wispy excuse similar to “the dog ate my homework” or “the check is in the mail.”

Case #1: London Twitter Twink & the Quickening

london-postcardWe all know that London is notoriously known for all the ghosts that wander its streets and waterways, its old buildings and strange little alleys. However, having had men upon men beg me for my load for years, I figured one might be legit among them.

My BBRT exploded. I had more than 300 messages at one time and maintaining control of it via my iPhone came close to impossible. One gentleman who seemed legit got pissy because I’d not responded to him immediately upon arrival in town, so he crossed himself off the list. The rest where the normal lot. I waded through them all, trying to invite someone over for a breeding to my centrally located hotel near the West End, not far from Trafalgar Square.

Too far. Apparently, Londoners go to bed early on Bank Holidays and weren’t interested as I attempted to find someone to fuck about 21:00 to 22:00 (that’s 9 p.m. to 10 p.m. for us bloody Americans).

Then a tweet came in from a twink. How’s London, he asked. I replied. It became a conversation of sorts that moved to direct messages and a bit more privacy when I mentioned my trip would be so much better if I had an ass to breed.

“I can help you out there,” he said. “I’d love for you to load my ass. Big fan of your blog.”

He asked when I was leaving. Told him this was my last night. I asked where he was. He said, “Covent Gardens.”

Boom. That’s the neighborhood I’m in. I’m over at the… I listed the hotel.

Pause. Double pause.

“Oh, it’s too bad I’m not at home tonight. I’m staying with a friend in the country.”

Poof.

Case #2: The Early Alabama Bird Misses the Juicy Worm

greetings-from-Birmingham-Alabama

I’d started on BBRT with this hottie and turned to text messaging. We were getting ready for some good fun, all planned out in Alabama. I’d let him know that it would be a late arrival for me and he’d told me we’d have “several hours” of play.

I’d even arranged a nice corner room, away from everyone in the hotel, because I had a feeling this fuck might get a bit out of control.

I don’t usually trust bottoms. Bottoms in general are not trustworthy. But I’d grown to trust this one.

I arrived just after 9 p.m. and texted. No response. Another text. No response. Around 9:30, I get a response saying he’d fallen asleep. Then, “he didn’t know I was going to be so late.”

Late? It’s 9:30!

We’d been setting this up for a month.

The shitty little cocktease went on to berate me for almost an hour about being “late.” Of course the little fucker didn’t get off so easily in this from me.

Obviously, he loved the chase, but actually fucking… well, I’m guessing his balls hadn’t quite dropped yet. My timing was never the issue.

POOF

Cases 3 & 4: The Revolutionary Missing Men

Bareback top visiting New HampshireIn this history-rich part of America just north of Boston, finding fuckable asses aren’t easy. I knew this. I planned for it with a backup ass. I found them both and, as it turned out, both claimed to want it.

One said he’d be online on BBRT. Te other asked me to text. My #1 choice, the textable ass, got a text.

We pinged a bit before I asked him to come over.

Pause. He then, for some reason, told me his actual location. In Maine. And invited me over.

Baffled, I asked what was up.

“I don’t have a car,” was his response.

Now it wasn’t as if both of us were in downtown Boston. This little hottie claimed in the middle of bumfuck Maine, he had no transportation, after knowing I was visiting from out of town.

WTF and POOF

Back-up plan into action. Logged onto BBRT. Sure enough, he was there. Message. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait longer. And more. I’m tired. Just go to fucking bed.

POOF.

This ghost responded when I was no longer close, in Boston, about to fly home.

Just the Four?

No. I have so many more stories. But these are the four most recent. I did debate divulging Twitter names, BBRT handles showing a photo or two, but I’m going to leave it alone. After all, these #CloseGhosts could be #Catfish for all I know.

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Catfish Uncovered, Fake Profiles Online

Another Catfish Uncovered

Catfish from BarebackRT.com

It’s a public service announcement from your friendly researcher who notices when things are too good to be true. It’s a catfish Open-New-Window-External who’s just another pic collector.

In this case, it’s a supposed 22-year-old man on BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External who goes by the name HungFunGuy. I used my photo research methods to determine he’s not real, stealing a photo from the web and posting it in his profile as him.

When he unlocks, he shows a private photo completely different than his public photo, which is smaller and hairier.

Comparing the face photo with the other torso, the more hirsute photo has a less beefy chest, smaller in stature and — generally — just not as pretty.

The revealed photo when he unlocks is all over the Internet and retweeted and on Tumblr so many times, it’s not funny.

If guys just look at his cock, they’ll notice the size is comparatively similar in size. But his ass photo shows a distinct sag, indicating to me this gentleman is no where near the age of 22 but somewhere in his forties.

Look, I know how it gets. I’m in my forties and we all want the young ones. But lying won’t net you anything but a few pics. And apparently, photos are for what this catfish bottom feeds. His profile reveals that others must unlock their private photos for him in order to message him.

I don’t know why people think they can get away with such bullshit, but they do. And they somehow do get away with it. We all want the beautiful, young, great-bodied twinkish boys. But it’s just not realistic to pull Internet photos (from professional photographers) and think you’ll get away with it.

Catfish HungFunGuy in Atlanta from BarebackRT.com

 

Getting Down to the Last Chance, Las Vegas

Getting Down to the Last Chance, Las Vegas

I’ve got to say, Las Vegas produces some hot bottoms worth breeding. And so far, five men had their ass walls painted with my DNA (and one gentleman had the cum churned up in his ass by my hard cock, but I wish I’d added to the mix, but alas, seeing it was my second load of the day, I didn’t squeeze one out).

Unfortunately, I’ve not had a consistent bottom, as I’d hoped. Still, the willing cum dumps are easy to find and even easier to get.

In fact, right now two men are offering me cash for my load tonight, although I doubt either of them coughs up enough for me to give up the hot piece of ass I’ve got lined up to breed.

That doesn’t mean I’m all set. A few more days to go before I leave means I’ve still got time to meet, greet and seed more ass before I leave town. I’ve been keeping myself hydrated so I can continue to produce enough cum splash to make it worthwhile. And with only one Asian done so far, I need to see if I can find some more exotic ass to fuck (although I think I’ve gotten one state royally fucked that hasn’t gotten it).

So please… Kick it into high gear and e-mail me or hit me up on BBRT if you want a load before I tumbleweed out of Vegas.

I’ll have the double rice

I’ll have the double rice

California offers many pleasures but for me, it happens to be a larger percentage of Asians among the fuckable population. I’ve always had an affinity for Asians and, despite whatever your impression might be, Asians offer a kaleidoscopic among themselves, as I’ve found out.

On my most recent trip, I scooted south to the Los Angeles megaplex — quite a different vibe than Northern California where I’ve been frequenting of late. Moreover, I was in town for a lovely, lovely tradeshow.

If in your career, you’ve never had the esteemed pleasure of working a tradeshow, then you’ve missed experiencing what I am certain would become a modern ring of hell if Dante were alive to write about it today. A bunch of people gather in a space to set temporary campgrounds of marketing marvels and give away shit to others forced to visit because their bosses were too lazy to go.

Oh, and you smile a lot. And act interested.

I think local homes drop off Alzheimer’s patients as a stimulating experience for them. We have to be nice in our booths because we are hoping for prospective customers to stop by.

Anyway, it’s in this setting where my first gentleman caller pops up.

His body, as you can see, is perfection. His nipples just divine. Smooth. Gorgeous. I cannot say enough about how amazing he was. Then again, perfection does tend to agree with one at 21 years old.

To get over the initial awkwardness, he suggested giving me a backrub — how 1980s porn, I know — but it worked and soon he was stroking and sucking my cock. I returned the favor, literally licking every spot on his body. The natural smoothness extended to the pucker around his hole.

I ate him out. I ate deep. I went for it. I got that asshole ready for my cock.

As I slid up along his back, I began to rub my hardness in that crack trying to find the wet hole. He teased me a bit. Just as he’d been teasing me with a possible kiss that never happened. His long, jet black, straight hair constantly tossed to the side as he stared at me but a kiss would never quite come. Oh, he’d suck my cock, but no kissing.

Fine but what ever. I now wanted to fuck.

And away he pulls, right out from under me. Off across the room to find his pants. FUCK.

Despite the implication that I wanted to “fill” his hole, he brought a damn condom. Indeed. And he put it on me. Lubed it up with his own product and then sat on my cock.

Luckily, with a body like his, I could stay hard enough to keep it going. We fucked but I just have to say we were going through the motions when he finally suggested he get on his back.

BINGO.

His muscular, almost hairless legs up and blocking his view allowed me to begin pumping his ass. He never once reached to check the status of the condom and he began asking for me to be sure to shoot my load all over his chest.

No problem, I told him.

I slipped the condom off between strokes and left it on the ledge of the bed.

Finally inside his fully lubed Asian ass and I could feel his loose, already amazing ass around my cock. He blabbed on about wanting my cum on his chest when I took my hit of poppers, already in ecstasy thanks to those first moments of barebacking.

Of course the poppers pushed me over the edge.

I began to pick up pace and really let him have it. He was intensely enjoying it.

“Yea, you want my cum?” I asked.

“Yea man!” he said. “All over me!”

“Just tell me you want my cum,” I demanded.

“I want your cum!” I responded.

I began to shoot in his ass, the first two jets I made sure were deep in him before I pulled out and shot another on his ass and the nearby condom and then finally, mocking that I was having trouble with the condom, the last couple of smaller ones into his dark pubes. But he didn’t care as he had been in the throws of his own orgasm, shooting sprays across that perfect chest.

How I wanted to lick it up but after all, we were “safe.”

Next…

A couple of evenings later would be my last night in town and I’d been searching for another bit of fun — not necessarily Asian. However, my appetite turned out to be unsatisfied when he messaged me.

Now I’m not one to turn down another Asian, especially with this ethnic flair. I’d never sampled a Vietnamese. And to assure we didn’t have a repeat of the last time, I made it perfectly clear that I would be breeding his ass. Part of our exchange, in fact, follows:

ME: Raw or wrapped?

HIM: never done bb before..u? im clean and neg..no drug

ME: BB only here. Clean and neg. No drug.

HIM: cool. if serious, drop me your cell..

After the usual cell texting, the five-foot-four cutie showed up at my hotel room. This boy kissed and sucked cock like a pro. His oral skills left the other guy in the dust.

When I made it to his ass, well, where the other Asian had muscles, this 24-year-old had mounds of beautiful flesh that I ate like I’ve not eaten in years.

And when I slid up and my cock found his crevice, his hole opened up and soon I was sliding into him.

He might not have ever barebacked before but I know he’d thought of it. He’d wanted it. He begged for my cock and soon started on my cum without my prompting.

I let him ride me for a while before finally putting him on his stomach. My 6-foot-3 and 210-pound frame made his disappear into the bed. I totally dominated him.

And I made him beg me for my load.

I finally did unload and pushed it deep into his ass. I kept my cock inside him until I softened up and let it fall out.

His first bareback load made him a little clingy. I think he thought it was an invitation to stay but I had to kick him out. Nonetheless, it proved to be quite an event. Two Asian asses in just a few days.

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Practicing What I Preach (on a Podcast)

Practicing What I Preach (on a Podcast)

It’s no secret that I love gloryholes. My recent appearance as a “gloryhole expert” on the popular comedy podcast Distorted View just cemented the truth when I actually figured out how long I’ve been fucking around with gloryholes. In fact, when I said 15 years, I probably underestimated.

Earlier this week, I craved a little gloryhole action, so I headed to one of my haunts. My timing proved to be unusually perfect.

I walked into a booth as another man left. The gentleman on the other side also exited but I waited a moment before turning and leaving. As soon as he left, I saw tennis shoes and then the nose and eyes and the smooth complexion of an obvious Latin.

I didn’t get a good look. Just a glance before his face disappeared and his face was replaced with the telltale brush of the hand at the bottom of the hole.

I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my jeans, yanking out my flaccid cock. Just two minutes earlier, I’d paid my entry fee and now I was dropping trou. I pushed my cock into the hole and soon warm lips covered me.

Expertly, he blew me to erection in 30 seconds. As I reached my full 7 inches, I throbbed hard and probably pushed into 7½ territory. I was horny. There was no denying it. And his expertise seemed to fade a little.

My cockhead flares out, especially when I’m really horny. And his tight mouth hit the underside of my head like a speedbump. But in moments, it ended. And the sensation changed to the distinguishing pinch as I felt a condom roll down on my cock, then the death grip as he began to back his ass up to the gloryhole and onto my cock.

I let his ass adjust to my cock, to take me in and expand. Obviously, he’d been fucked earlier. But his ass wasn’t messy. My predecessor had kept the condom on. I could smell the rubber friction, like a tireburn skidmark left in pavement. I pushed in and out a bit. I tested him, pulling entirely out then entering him again.

His smooth ass never left the hole. He kept it backed up. After one other test, I finally pulled out, stripped off the condom and reentered him again.

I began fucking with a steady pace, never speeding up, never slowing down, never increasing the pound and never decreasing it. I’m sure that steady hammering could be heard as it echoed through the thumping of the horrible XM dance music. I found my poppers, pulled them out and took a big whiff.

How I wanted to change the pressure and rhythm! But I didn’t want him to know, if he couldn’t tell, that I was getting close.

Soon, I felt that feeling boiling in my balls as the cum swells from them in through the prostate and finally pulsing out the head of my swelling cock. I kept my pounding pace, breathing a little heavier and just fucking, fucking, fucking.

As soon as my load was deposited in his ass, I added several more pounds to make sure it made it even deeper into his guts. Then, in a single swift movement, I yanked out, pulled up my pants and buttoned up. I left the booth and rounded the corners while zipping and buckling up. If he noticed the cum leaking out of his ass, my car had already left the parking lot.

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