Tag Archives: London

#CloseGhost

#CloseGhosts and My Recent Travels

You can’t see them. You can’t touch them. You just knew that one moment they were there and the next, they were gone. Is it a mystery? Some phenomenon worthy of Bigfoot, the Bermuda Triangle and what pills Paula Abdul takes before going on air?

Probably not.

I call them #CloseGhosts. And I’ve recently had close encounters of the plentiful kind them on recent travels.

With the conviction of a serial killer who proclaims his innocence, these lovely bottoms in far away cities and town lurk upon websites (like BarebackRT.com or this blog), Twitter or other online hook-up destinations, assuring traveling a top when he arrives in their town, city or other geographic region that an ass will be ready to fuck at his demand.

Alas, a phenomenon occurs when that top arrives and is in close proximity to the bottom. The cum dump vanishes into thin air, often with some wispy excuse similar to “the dog ate my homework” or “the check is in the mail.”

Case #1: London Twitter Twink & the Quickening

london-postcardWe all know that London is notoriously known for all the ghosts that wander its streets and waterways, its old buildings and strange little alleys. However, having had men upon men beg me for my load for years, I figured one might be legit among them.

My BBRT exploded. I had more than 300 messages at one time and maintaining control of it via my iPhone came close to impossible. One gentleman who seemed legit got pissy because I’d not responded to him immediately upon arrival in town, so he crossed himself off the list. The rest where the normal lot. I waded through them all, trying to invite someone over for a breeding to my centrally located hotel near the West End, not far from Trafalgar Square.

Too far. Apparently, Londoners go to bed early on Bank Holidays and weren’t interested as I attempted to find someone to fuck about 21:00 to 22:00 (that’s 9 p.m. to 10 p.m. for us bloody Americans).

Then a tweet came in from a twink. How’s London, he asked. I replied. It became a conversation of sorts that moved to direct messages and a bit more privacy when I mentioned my trip would be so much better if I had an ass to breed.

“I can help you out there,” he said. “I’d love for you to load my ass. Big fan of your blog.”

He asked when I was leaving. Told him this was my last night. I asked where he was. He said, “Covent Gardens.”

Boom. That’s the neighborhood I’m in. I’m over at the… I listed the hotel.

Pause. Double pause.

“Oh, it’s too bad I’m not at home tonight. I’m staying with a friend in the country.”

Poof.

Case #2: The Early Alabama Bird Misses the Juicy Worm

greetings-from-Birmingham-Alabama

I’d started on BBRT with this hottie and turned to text messaging. We were getting ready for some good fun, all planned out in Alabama. I’d let him know that it would be a late arrival for me and he’d told me we’d have “several hours” of play.

I’d even arranged a nice corner room, away from everyone in the hotel, because I had a feeling this fuck might get a bit out of control.

I don’t usually trust bottoms. Bottoms in general are not trustworthy. But I’d grown to trust this one.

I arrived just after 9 p.m. and texted. No response. Another text. No response. Around 9:30, I get a response saying he’d fallen asleep. Then, “he didn’t know I was going to be so late.”

Late? It’s 9:30!

We’d been setting this up for a month.

The shitty little cocktease went on to berate me for almost an hour about being “late.” Of course the little fucker didn’t get off so easily in this from me.

Obviously, he loved the chase, but actually fucking… well, I’m guessing his balls hadn’t quite dropped yet. My timing was never the issue.

POOF

Cases 3 & 4: The Revolutionary Missing Men

Bareback top visiting New HampshireIn this history-rich part of America just north of Boston, finding fuckable asses aren’t easy. I knew this. I planned for it with a backup ass. I found them both and, as it turned out, both claimed to want it.

One said he’d be online on BBRT. Te other asked me to text. My #1 choice, the textable ass, got a text.

We pinged a bit before I asked him to come over.

Pause. He then, for some reason, told me his actual location. In Maine. And invited me over.

Baffled, I asked what was up.

“I don’t have a car,” was his response.

Now it wasn’t as if both of us were in downtown Boston. This little hottie claimed in the middle of bumfuck Maine, he had no transportation, after knowing I was visiting from out of town.

WTF and POOF

Back-up plan into action. Logged onto BBRT. Sure enough, he was there. Message. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait longer. And more. I’m tired. Just go to fucking bed.

POOF.

This ghost responded when I was no longer close, in Boston, about to fly home.

Just the Four?

No. I have so many more stories. But these are the four most recent. I did debate divulging Twitter names, BBRT handles showing a photo or two, but I’m going to leave it alone. After all, these #CloseGhosts could be #Catfish for all I know.

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Friday Fuck Fun: Cheap Thrills Gets Your Rocks Off with UK’s Cum Pigs

Friday Fuck Fun: Cheap Thrills Gets Your Rocks Off with UK’s Cum Pigs

CT4-FRONT

Coming to you direct from the UK, Paul Morris & Treasure Island Media present the fourth fuckvid in the CHEAP THRILLS series, featuring a solid mix of London’s best fuck-pigs, in four cum-drenched scenes, this video is a guaranteed cheap ass way to get your rocks off again and again.

In CHEAP THRILLS 4, watch as notorious European ass destroyer, PETO COAST, exploits LEOMANN’s begging hole, FLORIAN MANN fancies an anonymous deep breeding from a furry, uncut fucker, ANTON DICKSON discretely breeds a sleeping flatmate’s insatiable ass, and TITCH JONES plows JAKE ASCOTT until they lay spent, filled with and covered in molten man juice.

 

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The Bottom Pops His Load After Taking Three Cumshots Up His Raw Ass

Friday Fuck Fun: Liam Cole Directs Frank and Three Tops in Bareback Bonanza from TIMfuck.com

iBLASTinside's Friday Fuck Fun

 

Another in the series of iBLASTinside’s Friday Fuck Fun.

Young Frank was eager to prove to Liam Cole that he’s as hungry a fuckhole as our London director has ever met. So Liam called in thick-dicked topmen Kevin, Nikos, and Anton, and handed the kid over to them.

Frank goes after their cocks like a drowning man being tossed a life preserver. While the cock slut devours one slab of manmeat after another, Anton takes advantage of his preoccupation to get a taste of his hole.

Then the fun really begins as the three tops take turns pounding Frank’s ass, pushing him closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Filled with multiple loads and surrounded by the men who dumped them, Frank joins them in ultimate satisfaction as he beats off.

DIRECTOR: Liam Cole

iBLASTinside's Friday Fuck Fun

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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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A Dozen Resolutions for 2012 & A Dozen Reasons Why 2012 Will Be Better Than 2011

A Dozen Resolutions for 2012 & A Dozen Reasons Why 2012 Will Be Better Than 2011

12. Porn Star Fuck…

Surely 2012 is finally my year to get some porn star ass, don’t you think? Hint hint porn stars. You know who you are. And I know you read me. So offer it up to me.

11. Meet My Meat

Looks like I’ll be doing my share of traveling in 2012, not just to Northern California. While I’m around, I want so make sure some of the people out there who read me (and who I read or follow) meet my meat. No particular number. Just a goal to make sure that I spread my DNA wide and far.

10. More Asian Invasions

I love Asians. Well, let me be specific. I love fucking Asians. I want to fuck more Asians. My goal is to make that happen. More. A lot more.

Here’s the thing… if I’m lucky, I could get resolution 12, 11 and 10 in one shot. But I doubt it. I only know one half-Asian porn star. But I’d fuck and breed him twice to make it count.

9. Shape It Up

I’ve been doing good but I need to get started back at the gym. I will. More work to do. More muscles to gain.

8. Something Kinky

I need to shock myself. If anyone can come up with something that will shock me (and in the process, turn me the fuck on), hit me up.

7. Tattoo Time

I know, I promised myself last year. But the tattoo I want requires a good artist. Okay, not just a good artist. A great one. And someone with that talent isn’t just someone you find at the corner shot. You have to find the right one. I hope I find him or her this year.

6. Curb the Curmudgeon

Perhaps a reader has a point. I know there’s exceptions to every rule. Fuck, I know straight men take cock. I need to start believing more men. So maybe they will drive to meet me.

Interestingly enough, I like to consider this part of myself a pragmatist and not a curmudgeon or pessimist. I’ve been told I was a pessimist, most recently by an 18-year-old who really, really was just curious to know my age. This Grindr cutie claimed he would still very much be interested in me, no matter my age. Of course, the oldest man he’d ever dated was two years my youth — and a doctor.

We’ll see if he follows through in the new year. Okay, so in curbing… I HOPE he follows through…

5. Roll on them Rollercoasters

I have a passion for rollercoasters but the past few years has kept me away from amusement parks. Not this year. I’m hitting them and going for a ride.

4. Occupy the Obvious

The Occupy moment had its moment and, at times, my support. Not always. As the movement said they were the 99 percent, I suggested that I was the 9 percent — the 9 percent unemployed who simply couldn’t find a job.

That story goes further. I could find the most basic work. Even Target or other hourly positions turned me down. I just wanted a chance. I finally got that chance and got a job. I got two job offers.

However, one job offer came with stipulations. It came with a three-month trial to determine whether or not I was “compatible with the culture” in the company.

With both companies, I’d been forth coming about my sexuality — not in an obvious way, but inquiring about support of same-gender partner benefits. One answered my questions professionally and neutrally. The other — well — needed time to figure it out. Then questioned whether I would “fit with the corporate culture.”

This was later in the process, so as not to look homophobic. But it didn’t fool me.

Fuck fit.

I didn’t occupy the job, especially when I left them know that I recognized their homophobia, no matter the subtly. I called them out on it.

They backpedaled and tried to get me to take the job, but emotionally, I just knew I couldn’t commit myself there. Which leads me to my next resolution.

rage3. Punch Back

Look, as much as we like to suggest, IT DOES NOT GET BETTER. We just learn to deal with the crap better. And after the last couple of years, with “FAG” carved into the side of my car, my shit stolen, bullied at work and eventually fired by a homophobic boss and the hatred I confront from the Gay community, I’m done being Mr. Passive.

I’m punching first, asking for clarification later.

2. Mentoring a Man-Boy

I have hoped for a while to find someone worthy of learning what I know. Occasionally I find someone who has promise and I begin speaking with him. But as with most of these young’uns, they fall off the planet when it means a little work. This includes the Seattle bottom who’s cheating on his boyfriend and learning to be a cum-loving slut, the Midwest Asian frat boy who thinks he’s not all that hot but he breaks all the molds with a big cock and the big-dicked black Florida Military boy who keeps skipping around on me like a fairy.

If you’re worthy and will truly dedicated yourself without being a flake, hit me up: iblastinside@gmail.com. And include a fucking photo.

1. Connect

Vague as it sounds, I know what it means. I have been sans a best bud, a wing man, a co-conspirator for a little more than a year now. I have good friends but when friendship is tested, few pass the test. I wouldn’t mind it if someone just starts out and we don’t test anything other than whether we can get a good drink on together and travel some.

I’ve even had buds who have been straight and with whom I’ve never fucked. Used to go with one to pro hockey games, getting drunk before and after. He’d check the girls, I’d check the guys and we’d fucking scream our heads off at the checks on the ice.

Miss that.

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