Tag Archives: Key West

Best fucks of the year 2012

The Hottest Fucks of 2012

When it comes to 2012 and thinking back, I had luck and loss when it came to fucking. I lot of indistinguishable ass from assholes. People I wouldn’t want to repeat (and many of those folks do not appear on these virtual pages, although I did indulge a few of the worst abortions here Opens a new window from this blog and here Opens a new window from this blog

Overall, I did fuck some hotties and got a few mediocre in between. A few of you might notice a missing entry or two — perhaps about you. Those are my own personal fuck tales. I’m looking for something more interesting to happen before I’d write about them.

A fuck worthy of an entry on this blog needs a hook — something interesting worthy to write about. If your ass is just another good ass from among the masses, then what’s to make it interesting? If you call me “Daddy” or you beg for my cum, it’s just like everyone else or it’s about like a few dozen others. It’s got to be interesting to me before it’s interesting for the readers.

Below are my top fucks from 2012, in no particular order ending with my top three places, in a particular order. When you consider I’ve fucked almost 250 holes this year, this list contains less than the top 5 percent… the cream of the creamy crop, so to speak.

 

Key West Postcard

Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Nice Opens a new window from this blog

Fucking a 20-year-old makes everything great, but this smooth Latino proved to be especially delightful on my vacation. A Craigslist hookup, he turned out to have an interesting hole.

Know how most assholes have a discoloration leading up to the pucker?

He didn’t. His had consistently colored skin.

And it opened like a flower. He begged for my DNA and I gave it to him in his tight little perfect hole. He obviously wasn’t a virgin, but something could make me pretend like he happened to be. He had a huge cock and just beautiful body.

 

taye

The Tao of Taye Opens a new window from this blog

Part of my Northern California Triple Play Opens a new window from this blog, Taye was a fan of my blog and drove from San Francisco to my hotel in Silicon Valley one day after work. Turned out to be worth the trip — and I think he agrees.

His prominent pecs include two rather sensitive nipples that I manipulated with ease to get Taye to do as I wanted, not that he’d do otherwise. And when his rather impressive booty opened up for my cock, I slid it home and fucked him for a good, long while before depositing my load deep.

And I kept fucking it deep to make sure my DNA took.

Taye ruined the sheets of my hotel room, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.

 

ass2Behind Dead Eyes (1 Opens a new window from this blog, 2 Opens a new window from this blog, 3 Opens a new window from this blog and the Return Opens a new window from this blog)

If I’ve written about breeding him thrice, I obviously love his ass. And I do.

Words fail me to adequately describe what it’s like. Sure, there’s a photo here to show it to you. But when you see it in person, it seemingly glows all its own with a beauty and personality unlike any other.

And on his own, he does have a charm. It’s practically irresistible to me. I find him  alluring in so many ways. But I’ve learned my lesson with some bottoms. This is one of them.

I love no strings fun, but fucking more than a few times are bound to create threads at the very least. If you don’t choose to acknowledge that, you’re fucking stupid.

Moreover, as a top, I am not just available to service the bottom. I generally don’t like for a bottom to summon and for me to clean up and go running.

But this man’s ass proved to be absolutely delightful and, for a time, I got ensnared in a trap. It can happen to the best of us. Even a top like me.

 

RustyNailing Rusty Opens a new window from this blog

At 23, he was a shy Northern California hook up with a body of death and a chest of perfection. The photo doesn’t do him justice, as I wrote in January. He kissed and loved getting fucked and loaded.

And boy did I.

What he did’t have in talent, he made up for in sheer enthusiasm.

He asked to meet up again but we never quite made it happen. I still see him online on occasion, so if I make it back out there again, you can bet I’ll look him up.

 

Rice Surfer, Dude Opens a new window from this blog

I violated one of my policies when it came to stealthing Opens a new window from this blog with this dude. However, he was an escort Opens a new window from this blog, so in fact he happened to be a slut and would do practically anything. That is except take my cock raw.

I was in Southern California on business and looking for an Asian, one of my favorite types. But when this body popped up, I couldn’t resist. Could you? Look at him! I mean, DAMN!

surfer

Found an cash machine and withdrew the required amount. We hadn’t spoken about being safe. I’d said I was looking for an Asian to load up in my Craigslist ad. It seemed pretty clear to me.

If anything happened to be deceptive, it was him when he pulled out the condom and put it on. In the final moments of fucking him, I slipped it off and loaded his ass.

Mission accomplished.

 

Honorable Mentions

Worthy of mentioning but not quite making the top spots, these guys could make my 2013 list if they apply themselves and take a load from me….

 

Top Three Fucks of 2012

While the five fucks above representing eight loads were in no particular order, plus two more honorable mentions for 10 total loads worth of the Top 10 fucks. But below, you will find the absolute best of the best for 2012. No one was better during the year. Here’s the four loads that stand out among the 200 to 250 I deposited in asses this past year.

 

furry chest of a bottom#3 Furry Fuck Jizzjoy Opens a new window from this blog

I’ve felt bottoms moan and groan and sigh and just generally feel relieved when I breed them.

But this hot piece of ass. He went into pure convulsions at my injection of spunk.

Jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window truly works for this man and fucking him is as much a joy for a top as it is anything else, easy enough to put him as number three on my top three of 2012.

I’ve actually returned and fucked him a second time to confirm this and I plan to return a few more times in 2013 to try his furry ass again and again. When a man begs for your load and has a series of involuntary reactions when you load it, you know you’ve hit gold.

 

Asian Ass#2 Las Vegas Man of Mystery Opens a new window from this blog

I attempted to host a fuck fest while in Las Vegas that worked out all right if for one man and his gorgeous ass, who I loaded. I couldn’t help it. He begged for it and he ass deserved my load.

If not for the moments of less than enthusiastic participants, perhaps he could have been a contender for first place. But he wasn’t. Yet his ass turned out to be A-MAZ-ING.

You know, one of those asses with plenty of cushion but not too much to keep your cock out?

I loved fucked him and listening to him beg for my load just pushed me over the edge.

 

Paduwan#1. The Man Who Would Be Paduwan Opens a new window from this blog

This young man still haunts my fantasies with his talent and obsession with me. Obsession could be a good thing. It could be a bad. He skirts a fine line but so far, he stays to this side of it and I cannot wait until I breed his ass again.

This time, I want to double penetrate him.

Hairy, weirdly attractive in a geekish way, I’m as drawn to him as he is to me. And when we get together, the sex is indeed explosive. He seemingly studies my entries for the activities I like (deep-throat blowjobs that include licking my balls), perfects them and then does them for me.

Few men in this world earn my interest more than a slut like him — one who I could somewhat “date” and send him out on missions to collect loads. He would joyously collect every cumload and return to me full of DNA from strangers for me to churn up and them pull my cock out to let him taste.

Our fuck session lasted so long, I can neither tell you every moment nor convey the sensations of it adequately. But his ass remains in the top three I’ve fucked in the world.

Perfection.

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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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Key West Postcard

Travel Diary: My Little Piggy

Meeting fans of my blog is always a little risky.

There is the stalker element. I’ve been stalked before but not for this blog. In fact, I’ve been stalked twice for completely different reasons and very strange results. One was just a mental case. Literally. The other is a story I need to reserve for an entry.

While on my trip to Key West, a few fans of the blog did recognize me. I’d partially hoped for a few folks who wanted to have a beer and maybe chat a little, show me the sleazier side of town. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out. Mostly, men just want a sample of my DNA.

I guess men want to compare the bravado of the blog to the dick in real life.

Not sure how many of those men go home disappointed or really happy.

Among them was a man who messaged me first on Scruff, as you can see. I’ve altered things a bit.

He popped up early in the week then went offline and practically disappeared. I began to wonder whether I’d get him. Truth be told, another man kept in touch.

Or should I say “man.”

He spent a lot of time not exactly as a man, although he would get fucked as a man. I’m not at all into femme, transgender, drag queens or even guys who get off on wearing women’s panties while getting fucked. In fact, I’ll let a jock slip in there every once in a while but a man-thong creeps me out.

I knew it would make for a great blog entry that I’d fucked a lady-boy, man-girl or whatever you want to call it. But just having the knowledge of such made my dick shrivel.

But this pig happened to be all man.

He popped back up on the grid at the right moment — my last night in town. I spent it basking in three dick dancers and a bar back at Bourbon Street Pub (that’s an entry all unto itself). I’d been offered to spend more money to get one or all for a “private party,” but what I wanted and needed was relatively simple.

Pump and dump.

I knew my little piggy in Key West would understand.

I texted and he responded.

He said he was with a “bud,” who I actually assume was his boyfriend since he indicated he needed a moment to slip out. He did.

Arriving at the guesthouse, we slipped inside and found a dark corner. I dropped my trousers and he dropped to his knees, sucking on my cock immediately.

He opened wide and used a lot of spit. He went to work on my balls, familiar enough to know that’s how you generated extra cream for his ass. His aggressive work was perfect for my slightly buzzed state at 2:30 in the morning.

I stood him up and turned him around. He asked for poppers, knowing full well I’d have some handy.

He’d been using spit to apply to his ass. As he bent over, he grabbed my cock and lined it up to his ass. I applied pressure as soon as it hit the pucker and it slid inside easily.

His ass sucked me inside as aggressively as his mouth had. This piggy wanted fucked.

I grabbed his hips and went to fucking. Slow at first, then sleeping up. Fucking hell, his ass chute was smooth and straight. A lot of shit tunnels bend down when you’ve got a piggy bent over to fuck. Since my cock points toward my belly, it adds a little stress to my cock. But not his. As I’ve said, every ass is different and his offered a distinct smoothness and a nice straightness to it.

Despite our being semi-public, I began to fuck in earnest. I knew men had fucked in this darkened corner before and would again. I grabbed the poppers and took my hit. And then I began to slam his ass looking to relieve my balls of all the weight they’d built up over the night’s teasing.

The sound of my thighs slapping his ass started to echo through the courtyard, but I didn’t give a shit. He grunted. I did too. His smooth chute just felt too perfect as I went for the final moments before allowing my load to go into him.

“Want my load?” I whispered harshly.

“Yeah man!” he whispered back. “I want it so bad!”

I began to throb and then my cock let loose, sending literally torrents of cum into his ass. I pushed forward with my hips but threw back my head in a silent howl.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I came down a little and my cock  slipped out.

My little piggy turned around, crouched down and licked my cock clean. I could smell the mix of cum, sweat and ass juices. He gobbled them up.

Licking his chops, he stood, pulling up his pants.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that.”

And with that little whisper, he was off into the night.

I went to bed, slept well and flew home the next day.

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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.