All posts tagged Grindr

Travel Diary: Bottoms Blah Blah Blah

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

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

Allow me to explain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks!

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

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

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

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

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Arriving in Concord

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

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

Flake.

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

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

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

He had no vehicle.

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

Now please check out the map.

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the other morons.

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

THEM: “How long you in town?”

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

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

ME: It’s just 9:30.

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

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

Proximity Alert

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

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

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

WTF.

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

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

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

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

Right Downstairs

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

Bingo.

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

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

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

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

Then he says come to his.

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

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

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

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

I’m baffled. I just ask, “What?”

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

Fuck that.

This fucker is just playing me.

“Forget it.”

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

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

He says he doesn’t like my attitude.

I tell him to fuck off.

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

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

Postscript

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

My luck is your luck, fucker.

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Grindin’ Ass Raw: How Quickly ‘Safer’ Bottoms Go Raw

grindin-ass-raw
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Raw-or-wrapped-2How much I love asking the question, “Raw or wrapped?’

If I’m on Grindr or Scruff or Manhunt (I’ve got a free trial) or Craigslist, it’s a question that’s bound to come up. And ever-so-quickly, as soon as it does, the response about half the time is “wrapped” or “safe.”

Fuck, just look at the young man to the right — he wrote “Always safe.”

And I wrote, “Oh. Too bad. I’m not.”

Immediately — not even a minute passed — before he said he’d fuck raw.

Recently, a survey found about half of all gay men said they fucked bareback while the other half said they fucked safe. This is a flawed study because, I believe, when confronted with someone a bottom want to fuck him, he’ll go raw almost every time.

Believe me, I get more ass this way.

A lot of you may think I’m out there stealthing ass Opens new window of a page on this blog left and right. No. I’m not. I only do that at sex clubs, adult bookstores or bathhouses where anonymous hook-ups are rampant and, even then, it’s rare.

Most everywhere else, the horny man will go raw without hesitation.

The Tanned, Tattooed Lasian

I’m downtown running errands and, whenever that happens, I see that as an opportunity to get some. Honestly, Grindr and Scruff are hit and miss. Plus it’s a Wednesday in Atlanta Opens new window of a page on this blog and I know that’s a craptastic day.

But the common chime goes off on the ole iPhone and I begin chatting it up with what looks to be a light-skinned Latino.

If you’ve been reading my blog, you know I have a thing about exotics — any Asian or Latin flavor. Well, we all also know I’m an equal opportunity fucker Opens new window of a page on this blog, glad to breed most any ass.

The 27-year-old had shitty photos, but it didn’t much matter to me. He’d turned off his distance meter but seemed pretty damn close. And we were getting along. He liked my cock shots. He asked me to come over to fuck him.

Raw-or-wrapped“Raw or wrapped?” I asked.

“Wrapped.”

I turned him down, letting him know I just fucked raw.

Now I expect bottoms to come back with an invitation anyway, but his response shocked even me.

“Okay, well, you can fuck me raw as long as you cum in me,” he typed.

“I have no problem breeding your ass,” I wrote back.

Soon I had an address and was on my way.

Turned out I was only 3 minutes away from his apartment complex. He answered the door with just a towel.

A 6-feet tall, this beefy man’s wide, smooth chest looked just meaty and delicious. He was deeply tanned. And those horrible photos just couldn’t make up for the vision before me. Tattoos scattered his body. In fact, throughout our session, every move would cause me to discover a new tattoo — he had at least a dozen. Some as small as a dime while others were much larger.

His nipples pointed down toward his belly.

He escorted me to the bedroom and dropped his towel while I began taking off my clothes. His large flat nose gave him a Hawaiian look but the Asian truly stood out. That is, as he jacked his uncut cock and it stood up a rigid 8 inches and very wide.

Now that wasn’t Asian cock. It was truly Latin.

We went down to business, him snorting my poppers Opens new window of a page on this blog, sucking my cock, kissing me with his luscious thick lips and begging very soon for me to eat his ass and fuck him.

His legs and ass were covered with dark, wiry hair (again, symptoms of Latin descent). I worked his hole just a little before he wanted my rock hard cock inside him. His padded tanned skin next to my mighty white seemed like an odd dichotomy, but it worked as my cock slipped inside and he snorted more on those poppers.

With him on his back, my cock thrusting inside him, he soon began begging for my nut.

“You want it already?” I said, knowing we’d only been fucking a few minutes. But I was on errands and didn’t have long. But I didn’t mind making this a quick one. As fast as he was jerking his cock, I knew I wouldn’t have long anyway.

“Breed me man,” he said.

I snorted the poppers now and went plunging over the edge.

I bred his ass, pushing my cum inside him and letting him know he’d gotten my load. Then I pulled out and dressed.

“Damn,” he said. “Thanks. I’ve been looking all day for someone to come over and fuck me. You were the first one serious enough to do it.”

“Glad to help out,” I said.

And I left.

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Q&A: Truth Inside the Truth & the Truth When It Should Be a Lie

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Grindr-Hate-MessageHIV is a stigma. Don’t ask me. Ask someone who has it. Ask anyone who’s bold enough to actually put on their Grindr, Manhunt or Scruff profile that their Poz and see what happens. Here’s an example I used earlier of a friend of mine on Grindr who was messages for his profile which honestly revealed he’s Poz Opens new window of a page on this blog.

It’s bullshit.

Lately, I’ve gotten a couple of questions from readers who had issues involving Poz men, one making me think of this particular bias. I thought both were particularly telling and deserved to be told. Forgive me for sharing because I didn’t exactly ask these gentlemen’s permission, but I think I’ve averted anything devastating and I’m obscuring their identities.

Truth Inside the Truth:
Who Should Fuck Me, Poz or Undetectable?

QuestionI had only ever barebacked with boyfriends…. But I’m feeling that total slutty sex itch from deep within my hole and I kind of want to try bareback with a total stranger. Let’s face it: it was fucking hot, man! So, I joined BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External.

The first couple of days the only hits I got were from guys in the country and a couple of men in my home state, but several hundred miles away.

Today, I got hit up by two VERY hung tops, both within five miles of my home. One top says, “Undetectable.” The other says, “Positive.”

I really want to give it up again and I really want it to be raw, but  their status just scares me.

I almost hope I had never even looked at their status. I don’t know. I wonder if I would have even cared had I not known.

Which leads me to question whether or not I’m ready… A big part of me says, “Fuck it! Let’s do it!” But the other me says, “No.”

Advice?

(Give your own answer! Scroll to the survey below Scroll Down.)

 

AnswerYou need to ease into this world you’re exploring. So much of what you’re been conditioned is that HIV Poz is bad and you’ll die if you get it. No matter how much you logically know that’s not true, you still have this embedded conditioning — and almost Pavlovian response — that creates and illogical fear of bareback sex.

It just isn’t true.

So let’s just break through this with a little more logic.

Men who are undetectable have technically at one point been exposed to HIV. However, their antiviral cocktails have been so effective that it’s resulted in repressing the virus so far down that a blood test cannot detect it.

Basically, these guys are now neg again.

HIV hasn’t disappeared from the body. However, the main route by which the the virus is transmitted lacks it.

Your chances of getting infected by an undetectable man are more than likely less than a man who claims he’s neg. Here’s why:

Neg men aren’t really that religious and consistent about having themselves checked for HIV and other sexually transmitted infections. Neg men really don’t have a doctor hovering over blood tests to check all their levels and call them when a six-month test is missed.

HIV-neg men aren’t even notified or bothered about their next test by most gay doctors. And that’s the sexually active men who’ve bothered to tell their doctors they bareback.

Fuck, mine doesn’t even know I go raw. He lectures me but just assumes I’m using condoms.

You are so much safer with undetectable on a cocktail. There’s no guarantees. But just fuck it and go for it. You’ll be glad you did. Then in about six weeks, set up an appointment and keep it every three to six months.

Eventually, the guilt fades and your fear response will die down and you’ll just remember the fun.

 

Truth When It Should Be a Lie:
He Said, ‘Fuck Off, I Don’t Fuck Poz Bottoms!’

I get on Scruff and meet this fucking hot thirtysomething. We get to chatting and, bonus of all bonuses, he takes cock raw and tells me it’s his policy for the top not to pull out. I assure him that iBLASTinside (and he doesn’t get it — obviously, not a reader).

He can’t wait for me to fuck him bit I’m sort of booked for the afternoon when he says he only gets fucked twice a year.

“Twice a year?” I question. “You surely get fucked a lot more than that. You’re really hot.”

Well, he explains the Poz thing turns men off. And he’s a bit of a stickler on being honest and up front. He refuses to use a condom so he gets told more often to “fuck off” rather than to “get fucked.”

He doesn’t exactly ask a question, but it ends up I give him a bit of advice.

(Give your own answer! Scroll to the survey below Scroll Down.)

Answer(for advice) As it turns out, you’ve recently tested “undetectable.” This means that if the traditional HIV tests were run at this time, the virus could not be found in your blood — you’d appear essentially “negative” to people. 

At one point, you appeared positive, but if you said, “In my most recent tests, I came out ‘negative,’ you technically would not be lying.” This is especially true since you will be acting as the bottom.

I understand you have a conscious and you feel telling these random hook-ups — and that’s what they are — a random hook-up — that you’re negative and you’ve actually tested positive at one point may be considered a lie. But the risk you present to these slutty barebackers is almost non-existent.

Like I say above, it’s more risky for these guys to have sex with men who believe they’re neg but aren’t being tested all that often.

It is their own bias that drives them to say, “No” to you when chances are, several of the supposed “neg” guys aren’t neg at all. You’re safer to fuck than any of them.

Further, let’s look at it in another direction:

Let’s say your grandfather on your mother’s side was black. You look white. But the guy has one of those racist profiles that say, “Not into black guys. Sorry. Just how I am.” Technically, dude, you are a little black. Now he messages you because you look white. You’re attracted to him. You pass as white.

But the truth is, you are part black.

Do you tell him you’re black?

It’s not going to hurt him not to know. In fact, it might be a lot of fun.

What Do You Think?

Now it’s your turn to chime in. I’ve got three questions based on my advice. I want to see what you all think about my responses:

help2      help      help2      help

Who should the neg guy get fucked by?

  • Start with the undetectable guy like Mark Bentson suggested (26%, 59 Votes)
  • Skip both and try to find a neg guy (22%, 50 Votes)
  • Skip them all and stop barebacking all together (18%, 40 Votes)
  • Fuck everything you can find (17%, 39 Votes)
  • Fuck both undetectable and poz guys (9%, 20 Votes)
  • Start with the poz guy and get it over with (8%, 17 Votes)

Total Voters: 225

Loading ... Loading ...

help2      help      help2      help

If you're poz but undetectable, is it okay to tell a hookup you're actually neg?

  • Never (64%, 143 Votes)
  • Always (16%, 35 Votes)
  • I don't know (12%, 27 Votes)
  • Sometimes (8%, 20 Votes)

Total Voters: 225

Loading ... Loading ...

help2      help      help2      help

If your maternal grandmother was black but you look white and a hook-up says he doesn't like blacks, should you tell that hook-up you're part black?

  • Never (42%, 64 Votes)
  • Always (32%, 48 Votes)
  • I don't know (14%, 21 Votes)
  • Sometimes (12%, 19 Votes)

Total Voters: 152

Loading ... Loading ...

help2      help      help2      help

Check back again here for continued results as more people vote.

help2      help      help2      help

Do you have a question you’d like Mark Bentson (aka iBLASTinside) to answer? Send a message to iBLASTinside@gmail.com mailbox_full or hit him up on his contact page Opens new window of a page on this blog.

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That Was a Bust (or How Not to Host an Orgy)

That was a bust or how not to host an orgy
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Rating: 4.0/5 (2 votes cast)

Caligula would be disappointed.

The Roman Emperor rumored to host debaucherous orgies during his reign would be so disappointed at the scheduled orgy I attended yesterday. As I mentioned in my post Opens new window of a page on this blog, I thought I’d hit up my favorite local adult bookstore Opens new window of a page on this blog where a top had posted on BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External he was hosting an orgy at noon. Lunchtime on Fridays is a good time in Atlanta to find cum Opens new window of a page on this blog. I was optimistic.

That said, I also had my doubts.

The online party had 33 invited. I knew a few of the confirmed. When I texted a fellow top to check whether we’d be able to finally share a bottom together, his response: “Oh… I thought it was later. Sorry.”

I did think the host had made it clear it was at 12 noon, although the original posting on BBRT might have made it a little vague between 12 p.m. (noon) and 12 a.m. (midnight). The e-mails from the host did state “noon.”

However, the host’s e-mails weren’t clear about what was going on. After my prompting, he finally sent out this message:

poztopnow-orgy-email

I’d also suggested he included a link to my guide and review to Inserection Opens new window of a page on this blog (the correct spelling) for the folks coming out of town (the guest list included men coming from as far away as Birmingham, AL). You can see from my guide’s layout that upstairs includes four hook-up rooms. PozTopAtlanta, the host, never said anything further regarding the play area. He never unlocked his pics (at least to me) so I knew who he was.

The (Open Air Quotes) “Orgy” (Close Air Quotes)

I arrived at 12:06 p.m. The parking lot was packed so I had to park at the adjacent taco restaurant (you won’t get towed from there, it’s allowed). Paid my fee and went in.

Men were cruising like crazy downstairs. The sun had been particularly bright so I needed a moment for my eyes to adjust to the rather dark interior. After my half-hour drive, I also wanted to hit the bathroom.

I was upstairs by 12:10. All four rooms were occupied, doors closed and locked. Now surely I didn’t miss the “orgy.”

I’ve checked the definition of the word orgy Open-New-Window-External and, indeed, it means multiple people engaged in sex together.

Over the next two-and-a-half hours during my attendance, the men exiting the hook-up rooms were always in pairs. The doors were locked. I checked the darkroom downstairs.

I used the geolocation feature on BBRT to discover a few people there and messaged them but both were not at Inserection but lived nearby. Both Scruff and Grindr didn’t net me much of interest.

Eventually, I went into my usual cruising mode. I actually saw one of my bottom buds (who originally came for the orgy also but, like me, found nothing). He’d just committed to another top but promised to catch me a bit later. I occupied myself finding what I could.

The place turned out to be a bit top heavy. I ended up in booths across from tops three times (one I did suck for a bit; he was cute and had a great cock). After a bit, my bottom bud became free.

After our fuck, we compared notes.

He couldn’t find PozTopAtlanta either (he’d been hoping for a fuck) and, despite being a cute 23-year-old, couldn’t seem to find tops who would go bareback.

I headed on and he went off to grab a drink since the lunchtime crowd had died down.

Postscript

I’d hear from someone who missed the orgy that PozTopAtlanta, who’s profile lists himself as a top (obviously), actually got fucked and took 10 loads. I’m not sure where that happened. Perhaps that was his goal all along was to take all the tops and loads for himself and, if I’d arrived on time, I’d been in line to be load 11 or so.

Too bad for the bottoms.

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Recognition

Fucking a beefy bottom!
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Rating: 4.6/5 (5 votes cast)

If you’ve ever been through corporate testing for your personality, the results will show the kind of person one might be. Back in 1998, I went through some extensive testing and it determined I happened to be an extreme introvert Link Opens in a New Window.

That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m shy as much as it indicates my focus tends toward internal factors — I’m more reflective, inward looking. Add to that my own hate of smoky bars (and smokers Opens a new window from this blog) and social anxieties toward large crowds and, well, you’re talking about someone who’d much rather stay home than go to the latest concert or wander around a gay bar trying to pick up bottom.

Through the past decade and a half, I’ve taken up a project on myself to open myself up. This blog among the therapies, but I’d do things as subtle as wear brightly colored shirts to work rather than the bland, fade-into-the-background hues that allowed me to skulk through the office unnoticed.

Am I an extrovert Link Opens in a New Window yet? Actually, I’ve tipped to the other side in testing, more ambivert (in the middle) than anything else.

Imagine my surprise of late as more and more people on Scruff recognize me both by my geek glasses or by my cock shots.

During my current job, I leave Scruff, Grindr and Kik Opens a new window from this blog open (and I often check BarebackRT.com Link Opens in a New Window) since I have a horrible boss (he had me come in on my day off just so he could yell at me for a couple of hours last week).

A local beefy bottom on BBRT and I can never seem to synchronize. We’ve attempted to hit the local adult bookstore Opens a new window from this blog or swing by his place for an anonymous fuck. I’d never seen his face, just his beefy body with a little hair and some miscellaneous, non-distinct tattoos.

He seemed a little like one of those tomcats near a dumpster at midnight underneath the streetlight. He looked cute from a distance and might be tame but a sudden move and he’d dart away. In fact, he would disappear from my radar for a period of time but reappear, asking when were we ever going to fuck.

Usually this tomcat-and-dog game wouldn’t seem alluring to me. I’m a no-nonsense kind of guy. I want to fuck your ass and breed it. If you’re good at it, I might fuck you again. Otherwise, I’m done. Yet toying around with him had his allure.

We’d finally exchanged cell numbers because I had a tendency to pop downtown and he didn’t hit BBRT with enough frequency to notice my visits. I’d mentioned one such visit Monday night and he’d given me at deadline to be at his place by 8 p.m.

I couldn’t make his deadline.

On my day off, Thursday, I’d been in the office for a while and let my boss yell at me for a couple of hours straight. I’ve learned not to argue back because the idiot wouldn’t let a fact get in the way of his being pissed off. After he calmed down, he dismissed me, not wanting to pay for any more extra time with me this week, so I left, heading downtown to check on a friend in a hospital.

Scruff had been open at work and stayed open.

Imagine my surprise as I received a message that simply said, “I’m sorry that Monday didn’t work out.”

I finally see his face — round and handsome with a Van Dyke Link Opens in a New Window. I’d seen him mostly naked — in a jock — and found his beefy wide pecs with the fur down the middle to tree-trunk legs quite attractive. His ass provided a wide target and muscular mounds but no one would accuse him of being a “bubble butt.”

Bubble butts seem so inflated that sharp objects might cause them to “pop.” His ass provided a more substantial challenge.

We toyed with one another, as we always did online. But in the end, he relented and agreed to let me come over. It would be an anonymous encounter. Him naked on his knees to blow me hard then I’d breed him.

I arrived, parked and walked in the designed backdoor (how coincidental) into a hall just off his bedroom. In the darkness, he’d lit one candle that provided enough light to allow me to see the figure in the room.

Perfection is not accurate, but to me, perfection is not desired. I like a man with beefy pecs without distinct definition of a six pack. He’s got hair in all the right places without removing it, shaving it or waxing it. He’s a real man. He likes beer, dogs, football and chicken wings. He doesn’t spend his life at the gym but has his priorities balanced.

This is the kind of man I recognize.

He’s blindfolded. I unbuckle my belt, unbutton and unzip my jeans and flop out my cock, anxious to get it into his mouth. I step up and my cockhead brushes against his moustache as I place my hand on the back of his head where he’s got a full scalp of short-cropped hair.

“Suck that cock,” I said. “Get it hard.”

His mouth flew open with exuberance of a hungry man who hasn’t eaten for weeks and caressed my cock as it  swelled to hardness. He bobbed his head up and down,  interspersed the work with occasional licks of my balls, which thanks to the cool weather were tight up against my body but swollen. I’d shaved them a while back, so the light layer of stubble on my contracted testicles tickled a little.

I didn’t plan on this being a long session. And while he’d followed my instructions to a T, I don’t imagine he’d really wanted it to be more than a quick dump and go either.

But we all recognize chemistry when it happens and it began to blossom in the room. His oral skills were above par and he kept reaching up under my shirt. My tit tweaks were getting responses so I decided maybe I’d make this a little more fun.

I stood him up to discover he stood quite a bit shorter than me — probably about five-foot-seven. But his beefy wide stance still struck me as I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed up, kicking off my shoes and pants.

Positioning myself so my cock went right underneath his balls, his own prick stood out at attention

I growled. He responded in kind and soon my mouth covered his and we were kissing deeply. He slurped at my mouth and tongue.

He was thirsty.

“Spit in my mouth, please Sir,” he requested.

I obliged.

It had been a while since I’d had a fuck who wanted my spit and, let’s be honest, I didn’t exactly tank up for this little adventure. I’d just expected a fuck and go. But here I am kissing. My pants are off. I’ve got this naked body beneath me and, God’s honest truth, I wanted to completely feel it.

Off came my shirt too.

Now I nibbled on his perky nips, for which he jerked every time. Then I dropped to his cock and balls.

To be honest, I found his cock impressive for a bottom. Not huge but perfect for a man his size. Thick with a purple angry color to it. Yet I ignored it and went to his balls, tickled them a little with my tongue and then put my hands under the bend of his knees. I pushed him up and exposed his pucker on this wide, fuzzy hole.

It winked.

I dove into it without hesitation, tasting a mixture of soap and something else there. But I worked my tongue and a bit of spit into it. Licked his balls, nibbled a nip then kissed him deeply so he could taste his own ass.

Then I lined my cock up to his hole.

“You’re going to need more spit than that,” he said.

I spit on my hand and rubbed it into the head of my cock before pushing against his sphincter.

Pushing harder.

I pierced him, entering into his ass.

Raw, I ripped inside his ass and entered him the way a man should get fucked. Not a lot of lube. Just a little spit. So he could feel me at every millimeter as my invader worked into him farther and farther.

He began to beg.

And I began to fuck.

His thick, tree-trunk legs up around my shoulders as I moved my waist in almost an awkward fashion, working my way into his ass and out.

I would almost pull out and he’d tell me, “Wrong way. I want it all inside me.”

I did finally pull out to put him on top and let him ride. But he was a good little cum slut and sucked my cock some first before climbing on board.

He bounced. We kissed. I bit his nipples. He recognized how perfect my cock would be for double penetration Opens a new window from this blog. We fucked more. I made sure he had plenty of my spit to swallow.

“I think it’s breeding time,” I said.

“Would you fuck me on my stomach?” he said.

“You know that’s how I like it,” I said.

He hopped off and I moved out the way so he could crawl face down and let me invade. Despite his substantial beefiness, my taller frame allowed me to cover him almost completely.

I began to fuck and he began to beg. “Give me your fucking cum man! Breed my fucking ass, man! Let me have your load! Put it in my ass!”

I did. I shoved it in deep and my cock throbbed, flexed and began to shoot my load deep inside him. In his case, it felt particularly deep. Rocking my hips a few more times, I left my cock inside him like a butt plug as we kissed and chatted a bit more.

I pulled out. He felt his asshole.

“It’s wet,” he said.

“I wonder why,” I responded.

He licked and sucked my cock clean.

“Full service,” I said, thanking him.

He left his blindfold on as I put my clothes on and left. He played with his cock a little, which I wouldn’t deny him Opens a new window from this blog.

I spit into his mouth one last time before slipping out the door into the chilly night.

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