Tag Archives: hesitation

Q&A: Is Jizzjoy Real? YES! Would I Be Less Uptight If I Went Raw? YES!

Q&A: Is Jizzjoy Real? YES! Would I Be Less Uptight If I Went Raw? YES!

A “conversation” of comments recently broke out on a post Opens new window of a page on this blog that needed a little more oomph, so I’m bringing it over to its own post when Mikey asked the following:

QuestionOn a less serious (or maybe I am serious…) note I wonder what you or Robert (or anyone else for that matter) think about whether I’d feel better and less uptight generally if I went raw. Is jizzjoy real ? And does it maybe have lasting benefits?

AnswerAllow me to address the jizzjoy Open-New-Window-External issue. The answer is a definitive, “Yes.” I think even you answered the question, but I’ll start with other folks and we’ll come back to you in a moment.

A poor straight surgeon lost his job over a scientific study where he found that sperm contained “mood enhancers” when injected into a woman’s vagina. His colleagues — especially the women — got their douched twats in a twist over the whole thing and he went down Opens new window of a page on this blog like a cocksucker in a gay rugby team’s locker room.

I’ve also witnessed jizzjoy more than once, the most compelling being a young hairy beast Opens new window of a page on this blog who quivered and shook at my cum entering his ass.

What I’ve never written about is fucking him a second time, when I didn’t cum as much as the first time. I’d bred someone the night before and, well, if you want extra juice from me, you’ve got a little work to do. We didn’t have time for him to do it. When I shot, his reaction proved to be significantly muted.

I didn’t tell him I shot less. I didn’t indicate I’d fucked another raw ass the night before. I’d showered in between so he couldn’t have guessed.

His body just didn’t shudder like it did the first time when he got several days of built up cum flooding his cunt.

Not even a week ago, I fucked and bred a slut who’s had so many men, he’d rival my totals —although he’d never heard of me. He’s enjoyed the explosive warmth filling his guts numerous times.

As I let my cum go, he described the sensation like a “tree suddenly branching out and exploding into blossoms throughout his body.” He said he could feel it everywhere, from the curls in his toes to the tingling in his fingertips to the tip of his tongue.

a_me_cumI’m illustrating this, in a way, not to brag but to say some people may have more of the therapeutic sperm with the natural mood enhancers than others because when I breed, people seem to walk away feeling better.

Are there a lasting benefits?

When it comes to mood enhancers like Prozac or Zoloft, one must take them daily. Heck, for the full effect on some people, one must take the pharmaceuticals twice a day or extra large doses.

No mood enhancer stays in a patient’s system for an extended period of time.

If you choose to go with sperm therapy, I recommend regular breedings — once or twice a day. Of course, if you receive a massive overdose on the weekends, sometimes you can make it as far as Wednesday, but by Thursday, your mood will dictate a need for more.

Once you go bare, you’ll always be aware when a cock is wrapped in plastic. You’ll get little to no satisfaction with something between you and the man fucking you.

Uptight Condom Nazi Who Wants a Breeding

You wrote this response in our correspondence: “And we both know if he did stealth me I’d scream with pleasure.” Opens new window of a page on this blog

I don’t think I suggested you’re uptight. You did.

And you’ve divulged your true desire.

I don’t know why you haven’t gone ahead and took a load. You should. I don’t know why. Maybe the hesitation could be explained to me.

Further, I think you’ve discovered your true nature as a bareback bottom, but you just deny it. You can’t face it. Why not?

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

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

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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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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Guide to Men Providing Better Service (Especially Strippers, Go-Go Boys, Massage Therapists, Bartenders, Waiters, Retailers or Anyone in the Service Industry)

I tip well.

I always start at 20 percent for any service and it rises or falls based on what happens from that point forward. You can be a stripper or a hair stylist. You can be a runner at a restaurant or a bar-back — the people who aren’t normally tipped but get a share of the main worker tips. The service industry is about tips. I get that. And I tip expecting to be remembered, taken care of and provided with excellent service.

It takes more than a great body to lure in a lot of money.If you’re straight or gay, bisexual or flexible with your sexuality, it doesn’t matter. Most of these suggestions will help you increase your financial compensation from the likes of men like me. I’m not well-to-do by any means. But compared to a 23-year-old, I’m more settled and I have more disposable income that I’m willing to spend.

I’ve put these into an easy-to-remember mnemonic: HEFT. You must apply HEFT at your workplace and when you work. If you do, I promise that you will earn more money, gain more confidence and advance yourself down a path.

[alert style=”green”]

I am available for one-on-one training

This is something I enjoy teaching, especially young, attractive men. You want to learn this, I will tutor you how to make this system work for you. Just get in touch with me.

[/alert]

Hope

Always give the customer hope that you’re available to give him what he wants. Be coy, play a little hard to get, tease a little; but the moment you dash all hope is the moment the money train stops.

I’ll start this with the understanding that the stalkers and the creepy guys — anyone in your gut that says “run away” — is where to stop the hope. These are the people with whom you never want to give any opening as a possibility they can get something more from you. But the creeps and stalkers and crazies, while most memorable, are in the minority.

Everyone else, you give as much hope as possible. If you’re straight, the guy you’re talking to is the one guy you might try the gay thing with for the first time. If you’re gay, you’re open to dating older men.

Having a great body helps. Show it off.But never be that direct.

Hope has to be the goal for which the customer is always reaching but never quite achieves.

Hope is a tease, so provide the tease and do it on a schedule.

I had a beautiful, muscular, very straight trainer. I told him exactly what I needed. I never touched the man, but I told him I found him and his body and inspiration; he would need to use that to motivate me. As I advanced, he started and did well. He went from loose shirts to tighter, finally to an armless t-shirt.

Then it stopped.

Never shorts. Never tank tops. The teasing stopped and the loose shirts came back. I asked what happened and if I’d offended. I’d actually been paying him double his asking rate. Early in our agreement, he’d even text me encouragement. Now he stopped that too.

I lost interest and stopped going. I lost all hope.

I never expected to suck his dick or even see him naked. But the hope of it kept me engaged. In the end, I think his own discomfort with his sexuality might have stopped it. He’ll often post shirtless, flexing images of himself to Facebook, even when I was training with him. He couldn’t see what that would do to me.

 

Engage

You provide a service. I pay. We both know the reason we’re here. But you must make an effort to engage on another level in order to make that extra cash.

The absolute worst thing a hot dick dancer can do is walk up to me cold and say, “Would you like a lap dance?”

Suddenly, he’s ugly as sin.

Making someone laugh is a way to break down barriers He sees me as cash and sees himself as meat. Same with a waiter or a bartender. Do you know how much further a friendly smile, looking me right into the eyes and a, “Hello, how are you today? My name’s Andy.”

Suddenly, I don’t see you as meat for meat’s sake or someone who delivers me food or drink. I see a human being. I see someone who has a name, a life and who has meaning. And if you ask my name, someone who gives as fuck about me more than the cash in my pocket.

You start to care about me, I start to care about you, I’ll start giving you more money.

If a dick dancer takes five or 10 minutes to get to know me, he’ll get a lot more opportunity to get cash.

While I was in Key West recently, the go-go dancers and bartenders at Bourbon Street Pub were a perfect example. One dancer — a blond with an absolutely perfect body, beautiful pecs, an eight-pack, gorgeous face, etc. — walked by as I gave him a dollar. He never bothered looking down. He didn’t  kneel and say a word. He walked on by.

Another dancer — not quite as built, but still nice pecs — walked by. I gave him a dollar. He took a knee and asked my name, shook my hand and introduced himself. He smiled and looked me in the eye. Over the course of the evening, every time he walked by, I gave him at least another dollar and even purchased a lap dance from him.

What both dancers didn’t know was it was my first night of a week-long visit in Key West. I’d visit the bar many more times. The perfect body dancer got $1 out of me the whole trip. The great pec and wonderful personality dancer probably earned more than $350 from me.

I walked into a shop along Duval Street that sold absolutely wonderful products focusing on cocktails, wine and beer. As with every shop, the shit was expensive. The sourpuss shop owner never said a word, stood behind the counter and watched me like I was some sort of shoplifter. As I examined a ruby red slipper wine bottle holder I considered purchasing, I put it down and moved around the shop. The sourpuss darted over and adjusted the placement of the pump, assuring I’d done no damage (even though I’d handled it most carefully).

I left that shop quickly despite wanting to purchase a few things, I dared not make a single buy there to give the asshole owner any satisfaction.

At a jewelry shop down the street from there, I went looking for a pair of dangling earrings for my sister. The very nice shop owner greeted me warmly. Since he was British and wore a London Olympics t-shirt, we chatted a bit about that while I shopped and finally overpaid for a pair of shell earrings that looked like my sister. She loved them. And I felt all right about paying tourist prices.

The difference in all of this was engagement.

 

Flirt

While flirting provides hope and engages the customer, it takes things a step further. Flirting brings a customer back to you time and time again. It gets customers to ask for your section at a restaurant or call ahead to see if you’re working.

Girls are taught how to flirt. They’re taught how to dart their eyes, giggle a little, blink and appear shy. If you watched the movie “Legally Blonde,” the “bend and snap” scene in the salon is a great example of how women teach each other.

Men, on the other hand, are not taught these things. Moreover, if they’re taught anything, it’s not how to flirt with other men — especially how to flirt with the gay ones if you’re not gay.

Never, ever act girlish. Male-to-male flirting is much more subtle and it’s something a straight, bi and curious male will have to learn with which to get comfortable.

Flirting is all in the eyes

It begins with the eyes. Learn to stare deeply at another man without letting your eyes dart away. Look intensely but not with a leer. You stare just a beat longer than is comfortable and then blink and look away slowly. And never look down and away from the man. If you look down, go for his crotch or chest. Down and to the left means deception.

It’s even better if your glance is down at his crotch and then it returns to his eyes.

You can’t been too obvious as men have learned to do this dance over time and not be detected by their wives or girlfriends in the room. Even across a gay bar, a subtle flirtation can be happening.

Some of the best ways I’ve ever been worked is by strippers or other professionals giving a lap dance to someone else and working me across the room. I know they’re straight but they’ve got the eye fuck down and my cock doesn’t know the difference.

A gay man can see desire and will likely know a straight man based on his gaydar. I can see in a man’s eyes what he’s thinking. I’m empathetic, meaning I can usually sense what a person is feeling, but most especially men. There’s a vibe that comes off men that allows me to sense what’s going down.

I better get that you’re into me. The good ones find some element in each person they target to like. Whether it’s my glasses or shirt or even personality or the wonder of humanity. If you cannot find something to latch onto, something that you can show an attraction to, you might not get past first base with a potential customer. Consider it a kind of bromance that must be generated out of nothing.

If you are in a place where it is appropriate, flirting may mean showing some skin. You may be straight, but us gay men can appreciate beauty. We’ll drop the not too subtle hints of where you have tattoos or have you been working out crap to see your chest or other parts of your body.

This guy has a very defined Apollo's belt (but not much of a treasure trail)You can work it too. Picking up your shirt and rubbing your stomach showing off a treasure trail (that little line of hair down the middle of the belly Link Opens in a New Window) or Apollo’s belt (the iliac furrow below a six- or eight-pack near the hips Link Opens in a New Window). Yes, you can bend over and show off your ass, but make sure you have an ass to show off (as gay friends). Wear too tight clothes (if you work where that possible) and make it fashionable.

And remember that gay men have fetishes, especially older men. They will request odd things like smelling your shoes, socks or pits and touching your hair, biceps or pecs. Know what your limits might be and never react with judgment of something being rude, weird or bad.

Also understand that your actions in public may take you out of the running.

As I’ve outlined, I am not into smokers at all Opens a new window from this blog. If I see someone smoking, they’re out of the running for potential with me. I know bars in some towns can be smoker havens and some of you only smoke there, but these men with bodies of death puffing on cancer sticks still baffle me. I’d suggest that it limits your income if you do smoke. But I know an occasional whale (someone who will spend a lot of money) comes in offering to share his pack.

 

Touch

A little human contact goes a long way.

It’s long been found that waiters and waitresses who lightly touch their customers (usually the opposite gender) increase their tip amounts by at least 3 percent (a Cornell University from 1998 Link Opens in a New Window has often been cited for this). Remember that 3 percent is the minimum per tip increase.

You can get much more than 3 percent from me.

Shaking hands is always the first approach and the easiest to tell how receptive someone is to man-to-man contact. If possible, always hold the hand a beat longer than possible. Eye contact on the order of flirting always helps as well. A warm smile and a hesitation to release helps. You want the person to feel like you want to touch them.

Even staking out a place a little too close. Don’t invade their personal space too much. Just go into it enough.

If you’re sure someone is up for it, then go for the shoulder grab, especially when you’re stepping away. Make it very familiar feeling. “Hey Mark,” hand reaches out and grabs a shoulder. “I’m headed to the bar. Is there anything I can get for you?”

If your touch can get even more suggestive, it helps in the right circumstance. A brush of your crotch as you pass by, leaning against his shoulder, a hand around the waist, even holding his hand. Do the little movements that give you tingles up your spine. That does the same to him. Give him goosebumps. Make it memorable. There’s nothing wrong even if you’re having an intimate moment and you say to him, “How could I make this a night you won’t ever forget?”

 

HEFTY, HEFTY, HEFTY

If I had to add the last letter to my acronym, it would be “Y” for “Youth.” It normally is that thing that will bring in the trollish men with money. But the one thing I have to say about the most successful twentysomethings who’ve walked away with hundreds of dollars from me is how they’ve treated me and that’s with mature respect. And I’ve respected them back.

When I get a lap dance from someone new, I ask what I can and cannot do. I understand that $20 or $50 doesn’t buy me a fuck in the backroom of a bar and I’m never allowed to just shove my finger up an ass without permission.

I am paying for the fountain of youth, the tight body, the incredibly booty and the innocence no matter how many men have touched him.

I get great service, one must be a good customer. I try to do that.

A Note of Consideration

To anyone else who takes my ideas and runs with them: 

Ideas cannot be copyrighted. Hey, I know that. I didn’t put my ideas out there to make money (although that would be nice). But here’s the thing: Do you think I would be stupid enough to put all my ideas out there?

You’re always welcome just to go with what I suggest and adapt to your own business situation, but I’m a (get this) marketing professional who knows a thing or two. I’m available for consultation or even hiring 

But if you don’t want to do that, I understand. But perks always makes me happy. 

Yours,

Mark's Signature in White

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My Latin Siesta with a Pocket Papi

My Latin Siesta with a Pocket Papi

When you’re really horny, it seems almost impossible to find ass. But when things are a bit calmer… well… it’s like the ass is lining up for you.

I’d arranged for a massage in the evening, which always means a happy ending. This would be a trial with a new therapist, so I wasn’t sure if he’d climb on board and ride the first time or if I’d need to work him up to that. Still, that afternoon, I was bored and wanted to hurry to the evening so someone would do something with my cock.

Of course, I couldn’t stay offline.

On my iPhone, I hit BarebackRT.com‘s geolocation feature and notice a new bottom only about 4½ miles (7¼km) from me. But I’d be getting a nice happy ending tonight. I didn’t need ass. Still, I checked him out to discover a nice pocket Latin.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one keeping tabs on people closeby.

He sent an e-mail, I politely replied and my cock got the better of me. Within a few minutes, I was driving to his house where he’d unlocked the door and waited naked for me in the master bedroom.

There’s a bit of hesitation when I first turn the knob at any house since here in the South too many idiots leave their doors unlocked or there’s a chance for entrapment. But I could see him ass up in the bedroom, just as I’d requested.

While that darker Latin skin really showed off his lithe body, his five-foot-five (165cm) body seemed to glow a little, as if he’d been sunbathing nude. In fact, it was only around his asshole (as I spread it open to begin licking it) did it seem a little lighter.

His pucker was so clean and ready. And fucking tight. As I teased it with my tongue (and attempted to disrobe at the same time), he helped by holding his cheeks open for me. The thin black hairs around his hole were just so fine. It took some caressing to get his pucker to begin to release and let me lick a little inside. As it did, and I could push my spit inside him, he groaned more.

Soon, I stood, thinking I might just push my cock into this primed pumping hole. But my little Latin bottom had another idea. Seeing my red, inflamed cock caused him to turn around and start a champion suck job.

He slobbered all over my cock and turned around, positioning his ass in front of my cock. I lined it up and pushed my cock inside. He gasped.

I probably had 100 pounds (45 kilos) and almost 9 inches (22cm) in height. So I dominated him physically. As I pushed in him deeper, he never resisted, but seemed to love it.

God, I love natural bottoms.

Soon I was fucking him deeply. Pounding this little guy’s ass. He laid flat and I want covering him from head to toe.

His ass was tight but not too tight. He’d opened enough to keep a friction on my cock that pulled me close to the edge of cumming but never really pulled me over to where I couldn’t control it. This would be an ass I wanted to fuck again.

We decided to switch it up and he climbed on board to ride my cock. And boy did he ride! I thought I was close before, but this dude could edge me better than anyone in a while. He just knew a pace comfortable for him that happened to be perfect for me.

He turned around, still with my cock inside him, and laid on top, milking my cock inside him — the reverse of me covering him flat. Now his little body was flat on top of me. And at this angle, his ass just felt too good. I told him I wanted to cum soon.

“Wait,” he said. And jumped off my cock. He ran to the bedroom door and took out a body length mirror, positioning it at the end of the bed between the bed and a chest. It stood upright. As he sat up to ride, I could see my cock slide in and out of his ass. He could now see it too in the mirror.

I took my hit of poppers and went into my little space where only my cock and his ass existed. And I watched him ride. Oh, it felt too good.

“You want it?” I asked.

“Give me your load!”

It didn’t take long, as riding the crest of the wave for too long let me flood his ass. He could feel it as a grunted and I watched my cock pulse and throb, beginning to pump my juices into his ass. He sat on it deep. Taking it all in, then would take it to the edge of my cockhead popping it, then would plunge back down on it. My cock began to be slicked up with my own cum.

“Fuck yea!”

He started jerking his dick and riding my cock. Then he took his fingers, and played with his hole around the edges of my cock, riding it a little but staying still a lot.

My white jizz began to leak down the sides of my cock. You could see it plainly. And he groaned. Would sit on my cock, pushing the cum back into him and repeat the process, this time letting more baby batter out.

Then his hole clamped down on my cock and I felt him shoot. Blasts of his cum hit my ankle and calf.

The little fucker loved cum.

He cleaned me up and we promised a repeat.

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