Tag Archives: hotel

What Is Rape?

What Is Rape?

I get a fucking lot of accusations in my inbox. Often. Here’s one of the more interesting:

When I was 18, a top I met off phone chat had me come to his place. When I arrived, he was much older than described…

I get inside he immediately grabs my head and slams it against door then rapes me raw. He degraded me racially, calling me nasty Asian slurs.

After he was done, he hid my cell phone and keys and kept me for 15 days.

I was used as sex slave to pay for his meth addiction and infected. A black man felt bad and freed me — the only one out of 65 RAPISTS.

I went to police and he was arrested. But [during my captivity], he sent texts to his cell from mine saying everything was consensual AND IT WASN’T.

He now walks free and I hate him and, because of [the AIDS] virus, I no longer date.

I hate you, Mark, and all other violent predators.

For some of you perverts out there (and you know I love you all), you’re jerking off just thinking about this scenario. But let’s get to this Asian gentleman’s message to me and splice it apart, step by step.

Rape Is Bad

I do not believe this story. Here’s why I don’t:

If this 18-year-old gentleman disappeared for 15 days, his family, friends or others would have noticed. Sure, this violent man might have created some text messages back and forth, but those messages would have occurred after the disappearance. Any cell phone records could show that.

Further, in many states, to knowingly pass along HIV is criminal. HIV maintains a portion of the DNA from the source. A test could determine whether the victim was indeed infected by the older man.

I believe the consent likely came from this young man before the disappearance. He told some friends and family he would be gone a while — probably not 15 days — and after a while, came not to like the scene he’d fantasized about because the reality wasn’t quite and fun as the jerk off images.

I’ve seen that often and any of you with any level of kinks would agree.

Nonetheless, if I suspend my disbelief, let me just say if this is true, this is bad.

Let me also suggest to the writer that — unlike my website, which is about sex — that the guy who kidnapped you and held you captive, did that violent act to you. It wasn’t the sex, but the power play that you didn’t like (and the fact he was older than he initially said).

Safety in Hook-Ups

The dear letter writer made a gigantic boo-boo, for which he fails to take accountability. And I get so fucking tired of hearing this shit from people who read some of my posts.

Every time someone goes to a stranger’s home or hotel room or wherever to fuck, you’re taking a risk. Didn’t mamma teach you not to talk to strangers, much less fuck them (or let them fuck you)?

Gay men … damn, all men … love casual sex. We let our cocks put us into places we shouldn’t be. I’ve been there. And this guy ended up some place he shouldn’t have been.

Do not blame anyone else for that.

I’m not saying he dressed slutty so he should have been raped or anything like that. He didn’t deserve to be held hostage for 15 days — if indeed, that’s what happened.

But he’s not innocent.

He want to blame the car for hitting him head on when he was already driving on the wrong side of the road. He did something dangerous.

Fucker beware

I No Longer Date

Oh. My. God. Being Poz prevents this little fucker from dating.

All of you Poz guys out there need to stop dating, stop fucking and curl up into a ball and just shit yourselves.

Another reason not to believe this story: The idea that life ends with seroconversion. Hell, for some, becoming Poz means life begins. No longer worried about when HIV might arrive, but knowing that it’s now there with you.

(As an aside, I’m impressed the dude also counted all 65 guys who fucked him.)

If indeed this is true, let me speak to you, my Asian letter writer:

You need to speak with a professional and go into counseling for this trauma.

You need to find a way to move on, date and find a way to heal. The amount of pent up hate you’ve gathered up into yourself is preventing you from seeing that life continues. You survived something terrible but not everyone is out to hurt you.

Jumping Off the Hate Cliff

Now he says I am out to hurt him. I’m some sort of predator.

I’m not. Never have been.

If you’re upset about the stealthing thing, I’ve explained it time and time again and don’t really need to do it again.

If you’re upset that I use bottoms, all tops do whether they admit it or not.

I just think you’re upset. And once the proper counseling is in place, you’ll be better off.

I didn’t fuck you. I didn’t abduct you. I didn’t hold you hostage. Don’t hate me.

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It’s Called Bareback for a Reason

It’s Called Bareback for a Reason

“I’ve worked really hard to become undetectable,” he said. “I just can’t let anyone cum in my ass.”

I’m sure he was working those t-cells at the gym. I’d already been fucking him for 15 minutes, my raw cock in his ass, when he suddenly dropped this new bombshell.

Why the little fucker seemed surprised my status wasn’t disclosed on BarebackRT.com up until this point in our hook-up baffled me. We’d been chatting for more than two months and he’d aggressively pursued me, largely due to my blog.

How he wanted my “creamy load” in his ass.

Of course this was only chatter.

He’d promised to treat me like a “king,” his exact words and promise to me.

I’d found him attractive and tolerated the first couple of snubs to my preferences. He’d been riding my cock and with pretty good talent. I’d had better. He was just 26 and hadn’t learned how to milk a cock well. He also couldn’t sync up with my thrusts.

But being that he was 5-foot-5-inches and 110 pounds, I had 10 more inches and 120 more pounds on him. That meant his ass was tight.

I’d cum in him.

His toned, Latino body certainly made me interested. I like the more exotic men, after all.

The bombshell came when I asked him to turn over, as I was ready to breed.

He’d already made it clear that he preferred riding my cock. But when I insisted, he got all “frightened” about taking my load.

Mind you, I didn’t help matters.

I have this tendency to say shit that’s not exactly nice. And he got me started. He’d already been on the track with some patently taboo topics that turned him on. We’d been asking each other questions, each more twisted than the next.

“Do you have a mutated virus?”

So I’m all in the “talk dirty” mode and I’m thinking we’re still in this when I just blurt out, “Yea man. Want my fucking strain?”

“Is it resistant to…” and he names his HIV medication.

Now I have no idea what medication he’s talking about. But there’s a distinct chilling effect going on.

“Naw man,” I said. “It’s cool. Turn over.”

“I don’t think I want to take your load,” he said.

I explain it’s just talk, but he’s made a decision and me, with a leaky cock, is left with no place to put it.

Now this little fucker should have tried to clarify where he stood on which and what he wanted up his ass long before I got up his ass.

Within five minutes, I was out the hotel room door.

I’d thought about turning his ass over and fucking him anyway, but he’d been the second man in two weeks to do this to me.

I’d not quite gotten around to fucking the first… a blond guy who begged me to breed him when I arrived in town.

I arrived in town. I sent him a text. And just before his designated arrival time, he sent a text to admit he’d never barebacked before and just couldn’t go through with it.

Well fuck.

I’ve just about had it with these blue-ballers.

Maybe I should bottom. At least I know I’d deliver.

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Bareback top visiting New Hampshire

Travel Diary: Bottoms Blah Blah Blah

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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Hanging Chad

Hanging Chad

Chad-Massage-TherapistI’ve pissed off the massage therapist blond Chad Opens new window of a page on this blog.

First, I enjoyed myself. I wanted to hit him up again for another session.

Second, I’d gotten a few e-mails from folks asking if the hottie ever would entertain barebacking.

Chad had written me a nice note thanking me for the review shortly after it appeared. I’d e-mailed it to him.

Apparently he forgot it.

For all the nice things I wrote, he focused on one section:

I’d like to say he’s a little down on his luck, but his attitude seems so cheerful as he’s figuring out where he wants to go. Or maybe he’s just a wandering gypsy nowadays. … since his hotel room is so damn small, he can’t really accommodate a massage table.

After a little exchange where he seemed confused after thanking me for my review, he sent me this:

I am by no means down on my luck, or a nomad. I know exactly what I want out of life. I still have no idea where the bareback thing came from.

I’m not really worried about what people say about me online. I put myself out there so I expect a certain amount of bitterness. You can’t please everyone.

I got another response.

I’m actually a very happy person. I make tons of money and work at my own pace. No I do not bb.

Let me explain my reasoning. Perhaps Chad is just frugal. I don’t mean to assign anyone’s particular motivations to their choice of accommodations. But when it comes to cheap chain hotels, Chad at least stepped it up from one that didn’t leave the light on for him. However, the $39.99 a night on the nearby interstate didn’t help making it seem a little low-end.

I usually respect people and a certain degree of their privacy. When I wrote that his room was small, it was tiny. Moreover, Chad’s belongings were crammed and stacked — neatly — into absolutely every single space. The path from the door (by the bathroom door) went to the end of the bed. Both sides of the bed were crammed full.

I don’t doubt he’s about as “happy” as he could be — or at least he’s got a great attitude. And I know some people are nomadic, enjoying traveling the planet. Hell, if I were young and hot, I think I’d do it.

No bitterness was intended. I always explain the space where the therapist works. Is it a tidy, tranquil, dedicated massage space, the messy dorm-like room or are you afraid a teetering mountain of belongings stacked to the ceiling might tip over and fall upon you? I believe that this is important information for a client to consider.

I like Chad. I still do. But he’s extra sensitive, snaps back fast and can’t take the reviews he’s going to be subject to in his profession.

I’m not going to drop his rating. I still want you all to support him when he visits. But keep in mind, he’s got ‘tude.

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Want to be included in my massage therapist or escort review list?

If you would like to be reviewed, feel free to contact Mark Bentson at his contact page Opens a new window from this blog or via e-mail iblastinside@gmail.com . These entries are at the discretion of Mark Bentson and in no way would any services provided to Mark guarantee or indicate any review (positive or negative) may or may not appear on these pages Opens new window of a page on this blog.

Also, while I travel, keep in mind I don’t mind rentboys, gay/bi/straight massage therapists or other kinds of outcall servicers while visiting cities like Indianapolis or Concord, NH Opens new window of a page on this blog.

Reviews of male escorts, companions and massage therapists in the Atlanta area are included here. Mark also provides training to those escorts, companions and massage therapists as well as marketing services such as web, e-mail, blog and social media advice for compensation and barter. Mark can maximize the financial intake you receive by teaching you basics Opens a new window from this blog  as well as advanced techniques.

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Bareback top visiting New Hampshire

Visiting New Hampshire Next Week, Any Bottoms Want My DNA?

This bareback top is back to traveling again and the good news is I’m off to new destinations never before seen!

I’ll be making a quick journey to New Hampshire (sorry for such a short one, New Englanders, but that’s all I can offer). I’ll just be there one night, so a quick fuck in my hotel is all I can make work.

Of course, I’ll have all my details with my travel schedule as part of my BarebackRT.com profile Open-New-Window-External. All other upcoming travel will be appearing (there might be a Midwest visit already posted, hint-hint).

If you’ve got a hot ass near Concord, NH, and you meet my criteria Opens new window of a page on this blog, get in touch with me Opens new window of a page on this blog.
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