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That was a bust or how not to host an orgy

That Was a Bust (or How Not to Host an Orgy)

Caligula would be disappointed.

The Roman Emperor rumored to host debaucherous orgies during his reign would be so disappointed at the scheduled orgy I attended yesterday. As I mentioned in my post Opens new window of a page on this blog, I thought I’d hit up my favorite local adult bookstore Opens new window of a page on this blog where a top had posted on BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External he was hosting an orgy at noon. Lunchtime on Fridays is a good time in Atlanta to find cum Opens new window of a page on this blog. I was optimistic.

That said, I also had my doubts.

The online party had 33 invited. I knew a few of the confirmed. When I texted a fellow top to check whether we’d be able to finally share a bottom together, his response: “Oh… I thought it was later. Sorry.”

I did think the host had made it clear it was at 12 noon, although the original posting on BBRT might have made it a little vague between 12 p.m. (noon) and 12 a.m. (midnight). The e-mails from the host did state “noon.”

However, the host’s e-mails weren’t clear about what was going on. After my prompting, he finally sent out this message:

poztopnow-orgy-email

I’d also suggested he included a link to my guide and review to Inserection Opens new window of a page on this blog (the correct spelling) for the folks coming out of town (the guest list included men coming from as far away as Birmingham, AL). You can see from my guide’s layout that upstairs includes four hook-up rooms. PozTopAtlanta, the host, never said anything further regarding the play area. He never unlocked his pics (at least to me) so I knew who he was.

The (Open Air Quotes) “Orgy” (Close Air Quotes)

I arrived at 12:06 p.m. The parking lot was packed so I had to park at the adjacent taco restaurant (you won’t get towed from there, it’s allowed). Paid my fee and went in.

Men were cruising like crazy downstairs. The sun had been particularly bright so I needed a moment for my eyes to adjust to the rather dark interior. After my half-hour drive, I also wanted to hit the bathroom.

I was upstairs by 12:10. All four rooms were occupied, doors closed and locked. Now surely I didn’t miss the “orgy.”

I’ve checked the definition of the word orgy Open-New-Window-External and, indeed, it means multiple people engaged in sex together.

Over the next two-and-a-half hours during my attendance, the men exiting the hook-up rooms were always in pairs. The doors were locked. I checked the darkroom downstairs.

I used the geolocation feature on BBRT to discover a few people there and messaged them but both were not at Inserection but lived nearby. Both Scruff and Grindr didn’t net me much of interest.

Eventually, I went into my usual cruising mode. I actually saw one of my bottom buds (who originally came for the orgy also but, like me, found nothing). He’d just committed to another top but promised to catch me a bit later. I occupied myself finding what I could.

The place turned out to be a bit top heavy. I ended up in booths across from tops three times (one I did suck for a bit; he was cute and had a great cock). After a bit, my bottom bud became free.

After our fuck, we compared notes.

He couldn’t find PozTopAtlanta either (he’d been hoping for a fuck) and, despite being a cute 23-year-old, couldn’t seem to find tops who would go bareback.

I headed on and he went off to grab a drink since the lunchtime crowd had died down.

Postscript

I’d hear from someone who missed the orgy that PozTopAtlanta, who’s profile lists himself as a top (obviously), actually got fucked and took 10 loads. I’m not sure where that happened. Perhaps that was his goal all along was to take all the tops and loads for himself and, if I’d arrived on time, I’d been in line to be load 11 or so.

Too bad for the bottoms.

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Furry Fuck Jizzjoy

Let me make one thing clear: I am an equal opportunity fucker.

Sure, I’ve got my thing for the exotics — Asians, Latins and the smooth twinks that occasionally cross my path. But you don’t have to be in your twenties or smooth for me to fuck you.

I’m at work and my iPhone hits BBRT Link Opens in a New Window. I use it to kill my long-ass days on the job or maybe to plan a hook-up. Lately, I’ve been walking into the office at 6:30 a.m. or a little earlier. I’ve been in the office almost an hour with the drudgery of my fucking 10-hour day already giving me a throbbing headache when I get a message.

“If you don’t mind heading to my neck of the woods, I’d be glad to take your load.”

Turns out his neck of the woods is the same godforsaken suburb of Atlanta I’m working in. Odd but exhilarating since I’m almost 28 miles as the crow flies from my homebase. This thirtysomething hot fucker picked me from the collection of folks online.

I respond, letting him know we’re in the same town. And since his profile is nice enough to show face, I unlock my photos.

I’m no prize. I’m in my mid-forties, could stand to lose another 10 pounds, an admitted nerd and completely comfortable in my own skin. My cock is seven inches and, if you lick my balls, it swells just a little more to make it maybe almost seven-and-a-half. I’ve had men suck me hard at gloryholes only to walk away because my cockhead barely long enough to make them choke (and it points the wrong way).

As I said, I’m no prize.

When a half-hour had passed, I wasn’t surprised that my local boy hadn’t responded.

Beside, he was six foot four inches tall with jet black hair and a thick goatee with sideburns almost to the point of a President Lincoln beard. His piercing dark brown eyes and barrel chest made him a handsome figure with almost a menacing look except for some softness around the edges. I figured him out of my league and, well, he probably looked my geekiness over and decided something else might suit him better.

Such is life.

Then, a little while later, I got a couple of messages in rapid succession.

First one told me how much he loved my blog.

Next one gave me his address.

We started texting and before I knew it, he actually texted me a photo of himself reading my blog (apparently inspired by a particular entry Opens a new window from this blog). I told him I’d come by for lunch. He promised to be ready and for the next few hours, we texted back and forth a variety of thoughts.

Apparently, he ran across a few entries regarding my particular like of the smooth Asians, pointing out that if I were to expect anything short of furry, I’d be disappointed. And I reassured him that I happened to be an equal opportunity fucker.

Throughout the time we chatted, my cock would rise up in my jeans and alert me again and again of the nearing of the hour when I could leave. I had a conference call just before lunch, which I found difficult to concentrate.

When I finally clocked out and got to my car, punching in his address, his home happened to be less than five minutes from my office.

Fuck.

I was in his driveway so damn quick and when I approached his door, he opened it. We went immediately to his room and before the door finished closing, he was on his knees.

He’d obviously been reading plenty. In fact, I could see my blog still open on his computer. His mouth didn’t head for my cock but for my balls. Straight at them. With ever so light the touch, his oral skills apparent, he began caressing my balls and licking them. My cock snapped to attention and I could see a glistening of precum already.

This hot man would get a juicy assful.

As he continued his oral work, he would eventually let his mouth envelope my cock with his warmth on this chilly October day. My pants and underwear still around my ankles, I knew this wouldn’t be a quick fuck. I’d enjoy myself.

We paused long enough for me to slip my jeans, underwear and shoes off. I hopped onto the bed and spread my legs so he could get at my balls easier — especially since I’d shaved them earlier in the week.

He spit liberally on my cock as he finished up the blowjob and then climbed up and began to take a seat — just like I love to begin the fuck. He’d come out of the shower a little earlier and I could feel the squeaky tightness of the water-washed ass as he tried to sit on me. Without a foreskin, it hurt just a touch, because my rock-hard cock attempted to penetrate into that tightness.

Then I felt it begin to break through. His jaw clenched. I knew he felt the initial pain-pleasure mix of that invader entering him. But soon the pain began to leave his face, replaced only by pleasure.

I moved my hands up his belly, rubbing the black fur on his broad chest, pulling his shirt up. At six-foot-three myself, it’d been a while since I’d fucked someone my size. Even the larger men didn’t happen to be the same height. This man probably had twenty pounds on me. I liked his strength over me, riding my cock into a kind of submission. His meaty hands as large or even larger than mine. But his hairiness.

We were both taking from each other what we wanted.

His cock now swelled even larger. Where I had length, he had girth. The fucker’s cock would be something to get inside an ass. I’d heard of a beer can and now I felt one.

We fucked with abandon, saying nasty things to one another until he uttered the words I needed to hear: “I want your load.”

“You ready for it?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Let me fuck you from behind,” I said.

While I love to start with a man sitting on, there’s nothing like finishing on top of a man’s ass. I went inside him and wrapped my arms around him, my lips at his ear. My fingers went into the hairs of his chest right under his heart.

I’d snorted my poppers and I began asking him if he wanted my load.

“Yes please,” he said. “Give me your load. Please give me your load. I want your load. Please give it to me. Please. Please. Please.”

As I fucked, I went to my happy place where all that existing was my cock, his raw hole and his voice begging for my cum. And soon I went over the edge.

The moment I shoot, I come out of my daze and return to reality. And in that moment, he said, “FUCK!”

His ass clenched down.

And the most unique thing ever happened.

I know jizzjoy Link Opens in a New Window exists. I’ve heard bottoms describe it. But with this man, I could FEEL it happen. You see, men can clench an ass. They can milk a cock. They can give pleasure. But this man knew my cum was flooding his ass. He was feeling my cock throb and shoot the load inside him.

As it did, my fingertips could feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest. Now, I knew he never snorted poppers. But his body was reacting as if he had. His heart picked up pace. He went into a kind of hyperventilation. We were connected by cock, cum and heartbeats. I FELT his jizzjoy throughout his body. Not just in his ass.

He loved my cum and cock inside him.

While I would have to remove my cock from that hairy ass in a moment, I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay inside him and breed him again.

Hopefully he would invite me back to breed this beast again. And again.

Where to Find Cum When in Atlanta

Finding cum in Atlanta can sometimes seem like a daunting task. This is a bit of a fickle city and there’s a kind of flow to it. Figuring that out can be where people get a little frustrated. Believe me, sometimes it defies logic. Sometimes getting laid requires persistence and a fuckload of luck.

But I can give you some basic guidance.

Best Days to Get Laid

Monday and Thursday

Weekends are great, of course. But Atlanta is a town of closet cases and a lot of men who are cheating on their wives. In order to get some, they’ve got to work around those bitches’ schedules. Moreover, the out Gay men who didn’t get any or get enough over the weekend are looking on Monday and want to kick off their weekends early do so on Thursday.

Best Times to Hit Adult Bookstores

Lunch and Right After Work

Again, the closet cases are going to get some around these times.

Worst Day to Get Laid

Wednesday

It’s mid-week church, choir practice or I don’t know. But Wednesday sucks when it comes to trying to find anything. Believe me. Give it up.

How a Bottom Can Get the Most Loads During a Weekend in Atlanta

Choose a weekend with a full moon and good weather. I’ve watched how the weather and moon phases impacts the horniness of men in this town (or anywhere). You’ll want to stay at one of the fuck hotels and post to BBRT Link Opens in a New Window as well as Craigslist, keeping folks updated to your location.

Begin Friday at 11:30 at Inserection Cheshire Bridge Opens a new window from this blog. You’ll get a pass until the evening for $11. The lunch crowd will get you some. Then based on the pace, it might or might not slow down around 2 or 2:30.

You can leave and use online hook-ups at your hotel room.

Return to Inserection for the after work crowd. Often you can feed on these men until 7 or 8 p.m.

Your hotel for any quickies. If you are feeling social, I recommend going to the Heretic or the Eagle for the sluttiest potential. Both have been known to have fucks. But you don’t want to stay too late.

Head to Eros Opens a new window from this blog by midnight. It’s going to be a $20 to get in. If it ever seems too slow, on the other side of this complex (walking distance) is Manifest Opens a new window from this blog. Another $20. But I imagine you’ll stay busy at Eros (if you’re decent looking).

Eros closes at 6 a.m. Hit your hotel for shut eye. Of course, you can stay online to invite anyone over. Inserection offers options if you don’t want to go back or there’s always Flex baths. Inserection is now $16 and Flex will be anywhere from $15 to $60, depending on your choice. Flex will give you a place to shower, of course.

During Saturday afternoon, it’s going to be hit or miss between Inserection, Flex and online hook-ups.

Again, Heretic or the Eagle for a more fun evening. Or if you feel a little adventurous, hit BJ Roosters Opens a new window from this blog for the go-go boys.

Then Saturday night at Eros is a definite. You will be very busy there.

When it comes to Sunday, in the afternoon, I prefer Flex and the relaxing atmosphere.

Sunday night has Eros and Manifest as well as Inserection, all easy distance. But I’d probably post well in advance a 9 p.m. party on BBRT and invite more via Craigslist. You’d have a great chance of getting a dozen to show up as an open door over a few hours.

In my estimation, you should exceed 20 loads depending on your looks. If you’re in your twenties and in good shape, probably 50-plus loads is possible.

 

Where the Cum Is in Atlanta

This chart really gives you a good guide to what’s going on in Atlanta.

Where all the cum is in Atlanta

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Three Abortions

Three Abortions: Zero for Three in My Attempts to Pop a Load

When am I not horny? Probably the immediate moment after I shoot a load into a boy, but I recover quickly. Really, that’s not true. Part of me still wants to make sure my territory is marked.

At work one day, I happened to be particularly horny. I posted on Craigslist (through my iPhone, duh) and hoped for the best. Two potentials showed up for a lunchtime pump and dump. I chose the closer of the two although the second happened to be an Asian.

Abortion #1: Druggie/Serial KillerLuckily, I thought as I left the office and headed over, these two actually read the post and got the word that I wanted a quick fuck. We’d not had a lot of back-and-forth. Not the usual bullshit of e-mails and more pics and negotiations of what was on the table and off the table.

I plugged the address into the GPS and drove over, listening to the radio and blissfully ready for my balls to unload.

Driving through a well-established neighborhood with well-manicured lawns and maintained middle-class homes, my GPS announced my arrival up on the right. Like a sore thumb, the home sat on a hill, overgrown lawn. With gutters falling off and a crumbling front porch, I already seemed wary of where I was comparatively. This wasn’t a married man cheating on his wife or a gay man’s home.

I knocked since the doorbell had been punched in at some point and collapsed in on itself.

The door opened and the smell of dog, cigarettes and just plain stink hit me. In in plain white t-shirt, a do-rag and boxers with sunken, heroine eyes, overly thin leg with open sores and an emotionless, hopeless expression, he invited me in.

“Thanks man,” I said. “I’m good.”

I assessed my situation quickly and turned around. At one point, he’d been straight, probably a straight bottom. But the years of drug abuse beginning with crystal meth led him to this place. My gut instinct wanted me to run, but it was a beautiful sunny day in a well-populated neighborhood. Maybe I’d just served a subpoena, just walking up to the door and leaving.

In the car, I punched in the Asian’s address and found it only 12 minutes away. I e-mailed him to say I was on my way.

Now Asian ass is prime and the pic he’d e-mailed me looked pretty good. As I near the place, again I turn into a decent neighborhood, although not quite as nice as the last one. Still, the lawns are nice with grown trees and middle-class houses. When I find the house number I’m looking for, I drive past and turn around in disbelief.

This time, the lawn is cut. Well, what lawn there is. The gnomes, globes, frogs, buddhas and literally hundreds of other ceramic figures lining a koi pond keeps most of the grass at bay. As I’d notified my fuck that I arrived, he steps outside to direct me where to park.

I do.

I try not to judge because I begin to figure out he’s a tenant in this home, as he invites me around to the back. But he’s lied about his age. He’s not 30. This guy’s face looks 50. Luckily when we step inside the basement apartment, he begins stripping and his chest and ass say 30. Asians sure maintain a body.

Abortion #2: Asian with jacked up face who cums too quickly Maybe I can keep it together. Maybe I can ignore the white-washed decor and the fact that he actually turns the television to “Family Feud” for our fuck time. Nothing like Steve Harvey saying, “Survey says!?” to make you want to cum, right?

He tries to suck me, but I’m “too big.” I play with his ass a little. He wants to kiss, but the fucker has lied about being a smoker and I’m not kissing. I urge on to the fucking. He pulls out petroleum jelly, slathers some on my cock and his hole and begins to sit on it.

Within two minutes, as I’m about a third of the way into his hole, he announces he’s cumming.

I pull away, his cum still shooting on my belly. I pull the towel from beneath us and wipe off my cock and his cum. I put my clothes on and head out to find some food and go back to work.

Surely, though, this cannot be how I end my day. I need to shoot.

There’s been this “sensual” massage therapist I’ve been meaning to try. He’s relatively inexpensive and, based on his pics, fucking hot. I message him. He’s available just after work.

To me, a sensual massage builds slowly to that moment that you cum. It’s a tease under the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing.

Of course, I had to try someone new.

This fucker had no idea what he was doing. Even though I’d asked whether he was a CMT (certified massage therapist), he lied also. He wasn’t. He didn’t know the muscle groups. He wiped oil on me and went for the spots he thought might turn me on.

Abortion #3: Hot Latino who doesn't know what he's doingOh I got hard. But when he flipped me over, he just jerked my cock. That won’t make me cum on its own. It’s like putting a pot on simmer. You’re not going to bring me to boil without playing with my balls and touching me sensually elsewhere.

That or sitting on my cock.

Now let me explain this guy was six-foot-four of Latino hotness. Smooth with the exception of a nice pube triangle and some light dusting on his ass. His crack also showed a lot of potential. And his body was like Michael Phelps, with long arms. His cock was a thick, uncut beauty.

But the guy couldn’t bring Latin heat if I handed him a bottle of extra hot salsa and a Gloria Estefan CD.

For the second time today, I grabbed a towel, insisting he step away.

“Are you not going to cum?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “It’s not going to happen.”

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“I expected it to be more sensual,” I said.

“I’ve rubbed up against you,” he said. “I thought it was pretty sensual.”

I didn’t respond.

I paid him the minimum, without a tip, and left.

The next man I fuck will get three loads worth of cum: The one he earned plus two more… one meant for an Asian and one intended for a Latin. Any volunteers?

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Don't be a dick

Breaking the Silence: Seeking Sufficient ROI from My Friends

So where have I been?

Some of you might have seen me on Twitter with occasional posts. Not much elsewhere. As I’ve struggled over the last few months, exerting myself upon multiple fronts to find an occupation for myself, the results failed to be fruitful. Each provided a life lesson for me. And I sit upon the precipice and ponder the path I’ve taken.

I use people, most specifically bottoms for my own pleasure. As I have ventured a little further in recent times, I’ve opened myself up to a little more sensation but still, my intention is to mark my territory. I won’t settle for a condom, insisting that my cock slide raw into an ass and spray my DNA markers in that most intimate of places to say I was here.

I’ve never been delusional about how the world works as well. While lacking the literal fucking and breeding, I’ve been proverbially bent over and marked through my life in many ways. And I let it happen. Perhaps my own need to breed back is my response to how society decided to use my intelligence, creativity and good will.

Now approaching eight months of unemployment, struggling with comprehending why my talents are overqualified and too advanced for today’s workforce, I find myself questioning much. And then comes the sexual side of it all. The other night, I lay beneath a young man just making out. And a sensation came across like someone flipped on a switch I’d not felt in eons. Of course, we all feel it on occasion.

A lunch arrangement and then when the time comes, it’s postponed and finally cancelled with a stinging “it was a mistake” to even suggest meeting. A sudden flash of anger and hurt then returned to calm as I’ve been here before, kicked to the curb for dropping my guard and giving humanity hope for a moment.

If only I’d bred him when I had the chance. My territory went unmarked.

A realization came over me about the number of people who use me as well. My so-called friends who only use me for their benefit and return so little back. Karma?

Funny because I’ve been cutting some people out of my life. If I don’t see enough Return On Investment from my friends, well, they’re getting kicked to the curb as well.

As a result, I think Karma has kicked my ass-supply. I’ve found it dwindles some, of late. I’m sure some cum-hungry sluts find the ass use a mutually beneficial relationship, but my one-off, use your ass as a masturbation device doesn’t often work that well.

Part of me still hopes for a buddy in Atlanta who can fuck, hang out, bareback, etc. I don’t see it happening. And that occasional need for affinity comes and goes. But perhaps I should stick to an equation, a simple mathematical value of what I get for what I give.

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