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Q&A: Can His Poz (But Undetectable) Load Go into My Neg Ass and I Stay Neg?

Q&A: Can His Poz (But Undetectable) Load Go into My Neg Ass and I Stay Neg?

QuestionI love reading your blog! Not only is it hotter than fuck, but it’s also super informative.

My partner and I are both in our 40s. He’s poz, I’m neg. Recently, after almost a decade together, we started fucking bareback.

When I fuck him, I don’t use a condom and I cum inside him.

When he fucks me (which is more frequent) he pulls out and cums on my ass. I’d love for him to cum inside me but he won’t do it. He doesn’t want to be responsible for making me poz.

His viral load has been undetectable for years.

What are the risks to me if he were to cum inside me? I really want his load in me.

Your blog rocks!

AnswerKudos on you two sharing your DNA! Well, one of you is sharing yours, actually. You really want his and to experience jizzjoy Open-New-Window-External.

I’m going to give you the skinny first with a couple of alternatives.

What Your Doctor Might Say…

What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Slap that condom on both of you and forget about it.

The Drug Route

Serodiscordant Open-New-Window-External couples, as a physician would call you, makes the negative partner a perfect candidate for prophylaxis Truvada Open-New-Window-External regimen, which means you’d take the antiviral as a precaution against getting HIV.

It’s an expensive choice and, in some cases, your insurance may not cover it since it’s just preventative. Plus, you may or may not suffer side effects of the drug.

Now for what I really think.

And part of me wants to take you both, slap you up side the head and then have your partner fuck you and teach you, as a bottom, how to make sure that fucking load ends up with it belongs.

You’re both already doing everything else.

When You Fuck Your Boyfriend

Let me paint a picture.

Micron-DickThis is your cock in the photo your provided to the right. It is 8 inches long and 4 inches around.

Now because HIV is a little bugger, I’m just (for fuck’s sake) going to convert inches into millimeters because that’s the smallest measurement we all think of in our daily lives (but you’re going to be proud because your cock is going to sound huge).

Your cock is 203 mm long and 102 mm around.

The approximate surface area of your cock is 24,000 square millimeters (if your cock were a perfect cylinder, and that calculation skips the base).

That much surface area is going into the HIV-rich juices of your boyfriend’s ass every time you fuck him. Every time. Deep in his gut.

Visualize that for a moment. The smallest skin cut gives a route into your skin.

Now to get really fucking real, HIV is 10,000 times smaller than a millimeter. HIV is about 0.1 micron. In other words, if we were to measure the area of your cock in microns, that would be 24 million square microns. And each square micron could give 100 bugs to pass through at any given time.

Let’s multiply that out even more and say that the “holes” available for HIV to invade your body just through your cock’s surface area alone is something like 2.4 billion.

But so far, you haven’t gotten it.

It’s not like you’re not risking getting it when you fuck him.

When Your Boyfriend Tops You

Has he put a cork in his cock? Has he assured there’s no precum slipping out through that pee-hole?

I’ve never gotten the whole “pulling out” bullshit, which is why I blast inside (sorry, couldn’t resist).

Now he’s inside you, pumping away. Your most vulnerable moments are when you first stretch out and microfissures can open up in the linings of the colon. The colon offers lots of opportunity to transfer bodily fluids both ways, but of course the bottom is receiving.

As he’s fucking you in those early stages, he is grinding his fluids into your ass and into whatever openings are there. You’re getting his precum, his spit, his sweat, left over piss, and pretty much anything else between the two of you anyway.

Take those same measurements and of his cock and you can take the amount of your interior skin being exposed to his fluids through that touch.

I’m skipping your oral activity and the debatable kissing and other fun stuff. And I didn’t even bother to suggest there might be something a little more kinky going on.

Here’s the Point

If you were to become poz, it likely would have already happened. But let me make the logical point.

Your boyfriend’s viral load — the amount of the virus in his blood — is undetectable. I can’t stress this enough. Tests can’t detect it.

I know it’s not an exact congruence, but it’s like HIV has gone into remission. It’s hiding. It’s somewhere in the body, but you just don’t know where it is or when and where it will likely turn up.

While there’s a chance that it could change at anytime and reemerge, for now he’s essentially negative.

You’re both basically seroconcordant Open-New-Window-External.

Either fuck or don’t. I personally say fuck. Your boyfriend needs to understand that you can just as easily become HIV-positive by what you’re currently doing if the virus decides to return. But tomorrow there could be an earthquake or an asteroid or a car wreck. I’m not suggesting you live your life as if you’ll die tomorrow. I’m suggesting you live your life as if the traffic light is on green all the time, not yellow.

Postscript

You do need to be prepared for the possibility of conversion Open-New-Window-External, even if you keep fucking the same way you are now. And while I wouldn’t pretend to know the nature of your relationship, I am betting you don’t have a problem with being poz. He’s not hearing you right now because he sees the prejudice that being positive brings among gays.

I want that to stop as much as you do. My point of all this was to make it clear that you both are lucky to have found one another. It’s a wonderful thing to share and your partner needs to stop feeling guilty that he might expose you to something that you’re exposed to already.

It’s a choice you’ve both made to share. I think it’s wonderful.

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Mark Bentson aka iBLASTinside welcomes getting messages from his readers and loves answering them. 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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Orgy Etiquette

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:

[alert style=”green”] 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. [/alert]

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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return Return to How to Host an Orgy

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Loading Zone: On Becoming A Cumdump Bottom

Loading Zone: On Becoming A Cumdump Bottom

[alert style=”green”]Welcome to iBLASTinside’s Bareback Loading Zone, the place where readers and fans of iBLASTinside.com send and post their own tales and adventures. These are all true and told to Mark who occasionally massages the writing a little if needed.

Today’s submission comes from a thirtysomething former “safe” top. He’s naturally smooth and twink. He’s from Los Angeles and, well, he can tell his story a little better than I can.[/alert]

 

As a negative man, I was afraid of sex. As a positive man, I embrace it.

About a year ago I seroconverted. With it, the usual range of upset emotions flooded me: shock, anger, fear, disbelief, sadness, etc. But something else happened, too. Something I didn’t expect.

After the dust settled and I learned the facts about my new status, my libido exploded! I was so turned on, almost all the time, especially at the thought of being fucked raw and bred.

I never really thought of myself as a bottom before, so this was new for me. I also started to feel like I was really a part of the community, willing to experiment sexually and do shit I only fantasized about and watched in porn. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize just how uptight and scared of sex I used to be until after I was no longer shackled by my negative sero-status.

iBLASTinside's Bareback Loading ZoneOnce I became poz, most of my inhibitions about sex started to fall away. I began hooking up more frequently, offering my hole and telling guys to unload in me. I wanted to hear guys tell me they were going to shoot inside me and I was really turned on if they refused to pull out.

I even set up a gang bang and invited poz men to anonymously breed me, which I have never done before. I took six loads that night and could have easily taken twice that or more. It really felt amazing.

Finally, what I didn’t realize when I was negative, was that I was now experiencing sex, I was embracing sex in a very bold way.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved sex. But like a lot of us, I was indoctrinated to believe that fucking will kill you if you’re not “safe.” So I never even considered to letting my inhibitions completely go; it just wasn’t an option.

I could never quite resolve this deep-rooted fear with the simple fact that I love cock and cum.

As a poz man, I have come to realize that at my core I am a cum-loving sex pig and there is nothing hotter to me than feeling a guy’s raw dick inside my body. I love thinking about it, I love doing it, I love watching it, and I love hearing about it!

I now find men who are sexually timid to be a complete turn off. I don’t want to teach or feel like I’m dragging anyone into a sexual experience. I want to be joined.

Fear of sex has little place with me anymore. This awakening would never have happened had I not become poz.

As a neg man, I was a typical “serosorter,” Link Opens in a New Window programmed to associate HIV with death. Any man that appeared to have that “HIV-positive look” (usually as a result of side effects of earlier medications and treatments) was completely off limits to me as an HIV-negative man. I realize now that that was my own prejudice because it was rooted in fear and ignorance. But I never recognized it as such, I just thought I was “being safe.”

Ironically, after I seroconverted, I now find poz men incredibly hot. I am now VERY turned on by poz men… but more significantly, I’m even more turned on by uninhibited men. It’s as if coming to terms with my own mortality provoked a strong response to live.

When I see that in other men, I recognize there must be some shared journey in that. I am part of a tribe now, part of a community that embraces its own. In so many ways I am relieved to have shed those HIV prejudices.

I used to screen guys about their status before having sex with them. Based on their sincerity, appearance and/or my intuition, I would determine what I would do sexually — if anything. There was always an element of unpleasant anxiety that went with it, but I never knew anything different, so I just accepted that as part of the deal. Of course there were few after-the-fact scares and I was tested somewhat regularly for HIV and stds.

If a guy told me he was positive or I suspected was positive, then I would usually pass on the encounter. In the back of my mind, I truly thought I was safe from HIV. But this illusion is such bullshit and self-delusional. It’s all fear and mental gymnastics and unsustainable.

So I fucked a guy and seroconverted. I didn’t intend it to happen, but ultimately I’m more grateful than not. Now I can actually relax, find contentment and peace and ton of sexual resolution. I am more into sex now that I have ever been before and have discovered the spiritual-sexual connection between men and the drive to fuck and be fucked…and if a guy tells me he’s poz, my dick starts to swell and my hole aches to be fucked and loaded up.

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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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I’m Pulled in So Many Directions…

I’m Pulled in So Many Directions…

Coming off a vacation of week-long proportions that brought me more than just rest and relaxation. I have much to convey, oh loyal readers. Yet my first day back on the job puts me back onto the plane and off to Boston for work.

From Key West Conch to Georgia Peach to Boston Beantown.

As I sat at home scrolling through the TiVo selections to decide what to watch and rubbing lotion into my right leg now suffering the trauma of a new tattoo. Fuck me for believing in the phrase “go big or go home”; in Key West, I apparently interpreted it as “go big then go home” as my leg is a little swollen, red and angry at what I put it through. Yes, it puts the lotion on the skin or it gets the needle again.

My impressions of Key West will take a long time to extract and get out here, plus there’s a couple of encounters to write about — one a fan fuck, one a plain fuck. Both with qualities worth writing about. That said, I don’t want to wait too long to give a few impressions….

  • Big Ruby’s Guesthouse: Contrary to popular belief, I am not all sex all the time, which is the reputation of Island House. I actually went on this vacation to relax and enjoy myself. Big Ruby’s offered a great room, nice pool, hot tub and delicious breakfast every morning plus very nice employees.
  • Bourbon Street Pub: When it came to a go-go-boy bar, this has got to be impressive. Hot, hot, hot were these men. I was surprised to say the least for such a destination to find men, some hotter than what I can find in Atlanta.
  • Seven Fish: Make reservations and go eat here. It’s two blocks off Duval but the fish is incredibly fresh and always a unique twist.
  • Blu Q Gay Excursion: If you want to snorkel the coral reefs or anything like that, this is way too much fun to head out on this clothing-optional adventure. Don’t miss this fun time with Captain Steve and, if you’re lucky, First Mate Ryan.

I’m off to pack for Boston. Let’s look forward to that Yankee ass.