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I Am An Ordinary Guy And A Big Ole Geek

Geek-Glasses
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I am an ordinary guy and a big ole geek. I never proclaimed myself to be anything more or less.

Okay. Maybe I am a stud. And I don’t mean a stud in some amorphous sense that one looks at a hot guy and goes, “Damn, he’s a stud.” I also don’t mean the term you might find in some urban dictionary where it refers to a general bad ass.

I am the animal kingdom version of a stud.

Definition: “An animal retained for breeding.”

Those who give me half a chance to get hard and shove my cock into their hole realize two things:

1. This guy has a very hard cock.

2. This guy knows how to fuck.

Given time, a third thing happens.

3. He breeds.

Knock on wood — primarily, my own — that’s what happens.

My blog here makes no secret of who I am and the type of person I happen to be. I should work out more. I’m not hugely fat. I have one tattoo. I wear geek glasses. I am not stud looking.

Bottom-BrainiacImagine my surprise when this fucking brainiac arrives at my door and says he’s confused who I actually am. Apparently, he’d confused me with some of the porn images on my website.

As he explained — in trying to leave and not have to see me naked — he’d assumed I was the beefy, tattooed guy who was fucking on my site.

Now I went through the last several entries. For the most part, all the porn stuff is labeled. So let’s say the dumb ass can read (but after chatting with him a bit, I’m not sure about that).

It leaves us with the escort entries on Chris, formerly of Detroit, formerly of Orlando, now I think he’s back in Detroit.

This means genius-in-muscles actually thought I was a bottom who was going to fuck him.

I didn’t fuck him because he wanted a pass. And who am I to rape the unwilling (and someone who’s six-f00t-six and got enough muscles to break me in half).

Truth be told, I got this beautiful, muscular Hispanic man with a gorgeous ass who came preloaded with two other loads that gave his ass this tangy taste!

But that’s another story.

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Orgy Etiquette

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Orgy Etiquette Content

gay bareback orgy etiquetteIntroduction
Prior to Arriving
You Won’t Like Everyone in Attendance
Everyone Gets to Touch You
The Good Touch and The Bad Touch
Showing You’re Interested
Perfection Is Never Around the Corner
Do You Have a Right to Reject Advances?
Politely Rejecting Advances
When Rejected, Stepping Away
Being a Respectable Voyeur
Buck-Up: It Was a Bad Night
Providing Candid Feedback to the Host

return Return to How to Host an Orgy

 

Introduction

Every orgy brings with it some universal guidelines to ways one must conduct oneself. Keep these in mind as you enter into these hallowed halls of sexual decadence.

You will find yourself enjoying yourself much more if you give yourself over to these basic guidelines since it’s what will be happening to everyone there. More fun shall be had by all.

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Prior to Attending

Bathe well, trim, shave, douche and everything.

Even though I never plan to get fucked at an orgy, I always douche because, as much as I don’t want it to happen, someone will attempt to slip a finger inside my ass. The last thing they need to pull that finger out and find it is an opportunity to create a Dirty Sanchez Open-New-Window-External.

If I do happen to find myself in the mood for assplay, my crack is absolutely clean and available for a little probing.

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You Won’t Like Everyone in Attendance

Among the most challenging things for a lot of people to keep in mind is that when there are five or more men gathered in one place, you will be comparing these men and of the four, you’d prefer at least one keep his hands off of you.

It’s just naturally how it will go.

He may be a different race. He might be hairy or smooth. He might be young or old. Whatever it is that just doesn’t turn your crank, you’ve got to swallow the bile that you think is coming up and stomach the moment when his hand brushes against your body.

Here’s why.

You see that hot, hot fucker across the room. The muscle man with the incredible pecs and pepperoni nipples you want to suckle on for days?

I’m reading his mind right now and he thinks you’re Fugly (yes, with a capital “F”).

However, the bile buddy next to you prompting nausea is dazzlingly beautiful to him.

Bile buddy is all about you but could care less about sliced salami nips.

By each of you tolerating the other, you each will “get” what you really want. It’s a triad of desire, only it’s all misdirected. If each of you will just swallow your pride, you will get what you want, though.

An orgy is not a place where people are meant to pair up and wander off. An orgy isn’t an a la carte menu. It’s a potluck dinner. One should expect to sample a bit from almost everyone in the room and, based on what’s there, indulge just a bit more from the more delicacies that seem a bit more appetizing to your palate.

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Everyone Gets to Touch You

For this reason, everyone in attendance gets to touch you. Your body is not off limits.

Unlike sex clubs Opens new window of a page on this blog or adult bookstores Opens new window of a page on this blog, you do not push away participants or close yourself off in a corner during an orgy (unless it’s just massive with hundreds of participants).

Whenever I host less than 10 participants, my goal is to get everyone together in one general space and everyone touching one another in one way.

The most ideal experiences I’ve had is when I’m not sure exactly who’s sucking my cock or sitting on my cock. I can generally see who I am kissing or who’s cock I am sucking. And if I am lucky, some tongue is on my balls or across my ass.

I have yet to have a cock in my ass while I am fucking someone. That fete will be one I will so enjoy when it occurs.

With good orgies, people stop worrying whether the least good looking is touching them and allow themselves to be swallowed by the pleasure of it. It’s a mob mentality. But instead of rioting, sexual energy takes over. Cock, cum, kissing, sucking, spit, sweat, lips, balls… it’s all just men.

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The Good Touch and The Bad Touch

If you are strictly a top or a bottom, or if you are somehow sensitive in some other ways, you may have created areas of your body that you consider “off limits.” This variety creates places that more commonly known as “bad touch” areas.

For me, almost anyone can touch my nipples. They provide almost little pleasure for me. They’re very neutral territory.

Should an African American with a thick 12-inch cock decide that a little spit would be enough to invade my ass, well, that would be a bad touch as a top.

And, since licking my balls lightly causes more juice to be produced for when I finally shoot my load (and with the right technique, can even cause me to loose control and paralyze my body for moments at a time), that’s a good touch.

You, as the participant in an orgy have an obligation to provide feedback — visual and verbal — to the men working on you. It’s very simple.

“Stop, don’t do that,” with a gentle pushing away of the offending appendage means bad touch.

“Yes, please do that more,” while leaning into the action means good touch.

And no movement means everything is a okay, just keep exploring.

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Showing You’re Interested

Unlike a bar, you don’t need to be quite as shy at an orgy. Sometimes you’re even naked. Walk up to someone and start feeling them up. If they move away, head to the next guy. Or lean back, take your cock in hand and motion someone over and start sucking. I mean, make your intentions clean by getting on your knees. Someone will eventually stuff something in your mouth.

Hell, put your ass in the air.

Orgies are about sex and making your intentions clear should be just fine.

Moments of awkward pause do occur. Every party needs an icebreaker. It’s just something to get the “conversation” rolling. But the conversation at an orgy is sex, so people will appreciate it if you’re the one who starts creating the sexual tension in the room.

Gay Bareback Orgy Etiquette GuideNot sure how?

I’ll give you the easiest trick in the book.

Walk up to a guy or a few guys.

If you’re a bottom, ask, “Are you a top?” or “Are you guys tops?”

If anyone answers “yes,” or “versatile,” then, “Feel like a blowjob?”

And don’t wait for an answer. Go for it.

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Perfection Is Never Around the Corner

There inevitably will be this idea to wait for the perfect man with whom to shoot your load or to generally wait to get wild. It’s something all noobs Open-New-Window-External that the proverbial greener grass on the other side never quite appears. When I know there’s an orgy coming up, I save up a nice batch of cum with the knowledge that I hope to deposit a couple of loads.

Bottoms (I hope) go with the intention of getting as many loads as possible. However, it isn’t a competition.

I’ll fuck multiple holes. My first load is the easiest to crank out, of course. But it’s the second or, even more rare, the third. You earn that, you’ve got a blessed ass.

I never wait to see if I find a better ass. If I feel like cumming, I cum.

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Do You Have a Right to Reject Advances?

Some people do and some people do not have the right to reject advances at an orgy.

If you are the sole bottom at a “breed the bottom” party, guess what: You’re it.

No, you don’t get to say, “That’s too big” or “That’s too small” or “I don’t like Asians” or “You’re too old.”

The solitary bottom at such a party is the one who has the literally take it in the ass. You cannot reject someone lining up to take it in the ass. The only exception is if something terribly wrong has happened, meaning you’ve got a physical or medical issue that needs attention.

A good bottom should know how to pace his meals and clean himself for an evening without a shit dick Open-New-Window-External event.

Now, if it’s not a “breed the bottom” party, I like to designate a slut bottom for every party who will take all cummers — literally. That way, no one is left leaving with blue balls. Usually, you’ll have one or two volunteers. And since I am a top, when I host, I usually agree to be the fucker for all bottoms, so each one ends up with a nice hard cock in their ass at some point.

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Politely Rejecting Advances

I do have my dislikes Opens new window of a page on this blog. It’s just one thing I can’t overcome. And when I am a guest at an orgy, I cannot control the guest list and therefore cannot assure that the man touching me is going to be matching my desires.

While there’s some types of guys who just don’t turn my crank, some men will cause me to lose a hardon as fast as a knife popping a balloon. When that happens, one must politely decline the advance. This can occur with several people or just a few in a group. I focus on minimizing the opportunity for the incompatible person.

For example, some smokers just seem to carry a huge cloud of ash around with them — a smell, not just on their breath, but emanating from every pore of their body. These people will prompt me to “take a break” where I can return later or, if I’m fucking someone I like, make a small hint that they might like to follow me to another area.

If you have someone obsessed with you who keeps following you around after the breaks, just pull them aside and say the following:

Thanks so much for your interest in me but I’d like to spend some time with the other men here right now. Maybe I’ll get back around to you a little later. Or maybe we can meet up another day. Okay? I’d really appreciate it.

If that doesn’t work, let the host know and perhaps the guest will be invited to leave.

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When Rejected, Stepping Away

I’ve been rejected. Plenty of times, most especially at the gloryholes Opens new window of a page on this blog at an Atlanta adult bookstore Opens new window of a page on this blog.

Number One When I arrive at the gloryhole and unzip my jeans, my cock isn’t instantly hard. One must play a little mouth music on it to bring it up. Some men expect instant hardon. Whatever happened to enjoying the feel of a cock inflating in your mouth?

Number 2 With the work from lips and tongue and even some hand, I get to my normal 7 inches and, with a little more work — especially around the balls — you’ll see it reach a respectable 7½ inches. But for the size queens who think 8 inches in minimum, it’s not enough.

I’ve had my cock pushed away and men simply stepped away or leave the other side of the booth. If I took this personally, I’d be crying still now, if not dead from committing suicide from the immense depression caused by such rejection.

My talented cock is rock hard and it can fuck. Too many tops just do not get that hard and, well, getting inside a tight bottom is a challenge.

Not me.

One had to learn not to take the rejection personally.

We all know how men are built Opens new window of a page on this blog. We separate sex from the emotional ties. This is NSA or “no strings attached” sex. So if it has nothing to do with the emotions and someone rejects us, why would we let ourselves get all carried away with emotions when we’re rejected?

Don’t let it happen to you.

Sex is like a business transaction and you’re just not compatible. It’s as if he’s wanting to use AMEX and you only accept Visa.

Walk away and move on to someone who is compatible.

Believe me, I’m too old, too fat, too small, too hairy, too dorky or too something for someone. But I’m also just right for someone else. If you don’t move on, you might miss out on a really good time. Do not let yourself get obsessed with some idiot who won’t (or can’t) let themselves broaden their horizons to let you in to fuck around.

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Being a Respectable Voyeur

Barebacking breedingOrgies are such that you get a great opportunity to watch some great sex, even if you don’t always get to participate in it. There’s nothing hotter than a group of men jacking their cocks around one incredible fuck scene in the center. I’ve been both places.

When fucking a bottom, I generally like to get the sense whether he’s up for a tag teaming from anyone else there. And I’ll share. But sometimes it’s meant to really be just the two of you until you blow that load.

For me, I personally enjoy if the voyeurs touch me. I especially like the other tops to come up behind me, play with my ass and up along the crack to my taint and balls. This really gets me going. Other men do not like this. A gentle push of the hand away or asking not to touch is just fine. Then step back and let the professional do as he wishes.

I know a lot of bottoms who love to be looking into the eyes of the top as he blows his load into the bottom. I suggest staying away from blocking that line of view. Otherwise, if the bottom invites you to stuff his mouth full, go ahead.

Keep in mind the others around you and let them see the fun as well.

But get involved. Cheer the action on at least. And touch unless told not to touch.

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Buck-Up: It Was a Bad Night

With every orgy, there’s a chance it can go bad. Very bad. You don’t get off. The two hot guys there go off in a corner and ignore everyone else. You get stalked by the troll who happens to be the host’s best friend from out of town. It’s bound to happen.

Buck up. Bad nights happen.

What I’ve done to try and rescue a night: Wait around to the end and as people leave, walk out with your last-chance choices. Make small talk, inviting them to coffee or getting their numbers to text them later. Once, I even fucked one by a neighborhood dumpster (talk about a quick dump and go). He turned into a regular fuck.

By waiting until the end of the night, even if you’re satisfied, you’ll see who the real sluts of the group are and you might start making friends.

I earned regular suck and fuck buds by waiting to see who waits until the end of decent orgies.

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Providing Candid Feedback to the Host

Whenever I’ve hosted a get together, I always ask for candid feedback after the get together to see if there’s ways to improve the next party. I do not take things personally unless someone tries to get personal about a get together.

I like to know the problem people, who just jerked off rather than actually barebacking (they don’t get invited back) and who seemed to be too picky (ditto). I prefer the feedback later, a day or two after the party and sent privately via e-mail or in a phone call.

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Travel Diary: A Little Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Memorable

Key West Postcard
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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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On My Way to Vegas…

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My week in Las Vegas begins and the exact man who will be my bottom cum slut for the week still isn’t settled, although a few candidates certainly emerged in the search. My favorite has chatted with me but I doubt he comes through and will be the subject of another blog entry, “The Lies Men Tell.”

You see, he sent me photos a few months back. I played dumb and asked for some recently. He sent another set. The two do not match. Face, features, etc., are completely different. They’re not even close.

So among the rest, let’s hope someone comes through.

I’m disappointed no one’s been creative enough to think of ways to impress me, to get on top of the pile, so to speak. For example, when my plane arrives around 9:15 tonight, to be waiting with a sign welcoming me and driving me to my hotel. Someone to carry my bags.

Maybe a couple of people. Certainly, in this town of excess, an limo isn’t out of the question. How about a limo filled with naked, hot boys ready for a fuck on the way to my hotel?

Okay, my imagination is getting away from me. But a charming, hot guy who takes me on a night drive isn’t out of the question.

Where’s he at?

So who will be my cum slut companion for the week? We wait and hope for a sign. Primarily a sign at the airport.

 

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Manifest in Atlanta

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Manifest

two-out-of-five-stars rating2103 Faulkner Road
Atlanta, GA 30324
www.Manifest4U.org

I normally pay $15 to get in now that I have a membership card. A lot of details about Manifest on its website. Its open only certain times and it has a membership fee that can be pretty steep — I think I paid $25 the first time in. Then again, the other night, it was only $5. If you’re on the mailing list and know the password, you get $5 off to get in. Manifest does take your ID and record your information but claims the membership list is private. Additionally, the access is behind two locked doors that have to be buzzed in, therefore it’s more secure.
My Last Visit: Early April 2011

Overall Description of the Space

It is a lot cleaner than Inserection and has more advantages. Up front is a well lit lounge room with comfortable chairs, a cyber space with computers and a high-definition television playing porn (not bareback mind you, but still porn). It has kind of a Asian feel, very Zen.

There’s also a nice bathroom (only one room with a door that locks, but it does include a seat) and a urinal. There’s also a soda fountain, free, with diet soda, PowerAde and Mountain Dew (among others), condoms, etc.

The back half is called the “matrix” and is darker with music, lasers and lights. It’s more warehouse with larger booths that have small stools in many. Most of the gloryhole booths open to two sides (and therefore two options). Nicely enough, there are “hand-holds” (which are basically blocks of wood) and the wood is the thickness of plywood (about a quarter of an inch) and wider than Insurrection.

There are a few larger rooms, even one with a mattress for fucking. Most include paper towels and a trash bag in them. These larger rooms lock and people cannot watch or get into them for more private time together. There’s also a space in the middle with a sling. I’ve seen the sling occupied twice. Once with a sloppy, ugly old man. Once with an incredibly hot guy.

There’s this “alley” and a jail bar space where I’ve been sucked through in the open as well. One incredibly useless space is set up like an adult theater, but of all the times I’ve been there, no one seems to hang out there. Then there’s a stinky smoking area in back (they claim it’s well ventilated, but it’s not).

Manifest is right down from a twink club called “Jungle” and when that closes, chances are you might catch some of those cream-filled boys looking to hook up since they didn’t get any there. But Manifest is also on the opposite side of the complex of a bathhouse called Eros, which I hear is fucking heaven but I have yet to try out.

Vibe

I love the potential of Manifest but I’ve got to tell you the last three times I’ve been, the results rank as worse than disappointing. It’s been downright sad. I don’t know how much longer this place can stay in business. The assholes wandering the space are picky as hell and getting laid or even a decent blowjob is close to impossible. I expect Manifest to vanish soon enough unless they take a different marketing approach soon.

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