All posts tagged movement

Open Letter: Putting Bottoms on Notice

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Dear Bottoms:

I think there’s been a little confusion of late. Maybe the tops who you’ve found have been a little too nice, although I’d probably attribute it to the fact they’ve been sucked into the heterocentric sensitivity training of taking care of the wife or some other bullshit. Or maybe there’s too much of the Housewives of Wherever-The-Fuck on TV, showing the women getting all uppity on their men.

That or some queeny, bitch-ass bottom started a movement that they’ve got the hole so they get to be large and in charge.

As I’ve been communicating with a few of your compatriots who want cocks and cum, I’m getting these demands. I’m being told — not requested, but ordered — to provide certain items. These include but are not limited to the following:

  • Face photograph
  • Full body shots
  • Videos of me fucking
  • Recent paperwork showing my HIV and STI/STD status

In most if not all of these cases, the bitch who’s making these demands is not providing any of these to me and, for the most part, gives me some line of bullshit that he’s “assuming all the risk.”

If I could reach through the Internet lines and grab you by the balls, bend you over and rape you lubeless, I would.

Additionally, I am getting a lot of feedback with which the precision a bottom wishes to be fucked. One said that I must only fuck him on his back, I must kiss him and, of course, he wants me to pull out and cum on his face.

In all of the preceding cases, I have declined to fuck them.

While I might entertain an occasional request from a bottom, that ass and body is there for my pleasure. If the bottom gets something out of it, good for you. I rarely give a fuck. But if a bottom seems particularly receptive to my fucking, I’ll be glad to make sure he gets to cum.

Good news is if I’m really enjoying myself, often the bottom will just cum on his own.

Here’s a little reminder of the 11 Commandments for a True Bottom. These were written by a bottom for all bottoms.

If you have a problem with this, please do me the kindness and fuck off.

Otherwise, I look forward to hearing from you.

Mark-Signature-Black

Mark Bentson aka iBLASTinside
Twitter @iBLASTinside
BarebackRT Profile
E-mail iBLASTinside@gmail.com

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The #BBBH Belongs to No One

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Some of you don’t give a shit about this internal raging debate. I wish I didn’t need to write this posting.

The Bareback Brotherhood is a movement formed out of the necessity of confusion. What does it mean to be a barebacker? Can one be a serosorting, monogamous-only cum-hound? Or does being a barebacker mean bug-chasing, stealth-advocating, anonymous fuckers only?

The answer is yes. And no.

To bareback means both, all of the above and none of it. Whatever one thinks about barebacking, you’ve limited yourself.

When we formed the Bareback Brotherhood and I coined the hashtag #BBBH and phrase, we did so with the understanding that it was for the freedom of that very sense of what it means to be a barebacker. For far too long, the safe sex Nazis had defined fucking as a plastic barrier between men.

We needed to remove the barrier and show that men could choose another path. That choice was one that men could make. It says so on our website: “We agree on one thing — sex between men without barriers is natural and a legitimate choice. As consenting adults, skin-to-skin intimacy should be a choice that is not demonized or marginalized.”

The Attacks of RawTop

RawTop runs the website BreedingZone.com, which has carried an RSS feed of my blog and many other bareback bloggers. If you visit BreedingZone or RawTop’s blog, one is bombarded with porn advertisements, which he says are a convenience.

On Sunday, RawTop e-mailed me and told me he’d purchased BBBH.com and planned to build a hook-up website to compete with BarebackRT.com. In exchange for my (and other BBBH cofounders endorsement), we’d get free “recognition and enhanced memberships” on the site along with t-shirts.

I entertained the notion. I’ve made no secret that the cyber attacks have continued on this and the BBBH website has cost me time and money I  simply do not have.

At the same time, though, RawTop posted on BreedingZone that I’m “so focused on stealthing” that it’s tainted the BBBH brand. He told me he’d need to write very clearly on his hook-up site that stealthing it was a position he did not advocate, he didn’t like and that he would separate himself and the “brand” from me.

While I couldn’t give a shit about what RawTop thinks about me, what I didn’t like was how he would take the #BBBH and begin to define it.

In other words, RawTop would begin to restrict what it meant to be in the #BBBH movement. Despite his own BreedingZone includes strings of conversation in “The Backroom” for gift-giving and bug-chasing that includes a lot of stealthing content.

Some Barebackers Will Not Be Welcome at BBBH.com

Would RawTop prevent bug-chasers or gift-givers fr0m joining? The answer is yes.

I suggested that RawTop turn BreedingZone.com into a hook-up site rather than attempting to take over the #BBBH brand.

He wrote me: “All the bug chasing discussion on Breeding Zone turns off a lot of people. It’s a bit tainted in that way – too many people don’t want to be associated with bug chasing so Breeding Zone can’t effectively be turned into a hookup site.”

In other words, if you advocate certain positions, you will not be welcomed at BBBH.com.

That directly opposes the founding principals of the #BBBH.

It is for this reason I cannot advocate, endorse and, in fact, I must oppose the development of this website. The #BBBH is all encompassing when it comes to skin-to-skin contact.

What next? No Poz barebackers allowed? Would one be required to submit proof of one’s status on the new and improved BBBH.com to have an enhanced profile? Maybe only neg guys could see other neg guys?

Perhaps RawTop could connect directly with local labs and get a CD4 and viral load count so Undetectables won’t mix with Poz. Maybe we’ll check your meds.

RawTop Wants Your Money

“To be clear – I make my money off the bareback community,” he wrote me.

To be clear, I don’t make any money off the bareback community. If you’ve logged onto BBBH.me, you’ll notice I’ve got a complete hands-off approach. I also don’t write about stealthing there. There’s no ads there.

The Bareback Brotherhood is one without restrictions, without plastic, without barriers. And RawTop is putting them in place. He is saying that certain people will not be welcomed on his new site, although I imagine his greed will eventually allow him to accept the funds from them before he kicks them to the curb.

The #BBBH Cannot Belong to Him

As I explained to RawTop, BBBH is a movement like Occupy Wall Street. It has custodians, sure. We are here to make sure no one profits from the movement.

A porn company recently contacted me, asking if they could do a video named #BBBH. I explained to the producers, each of them could be members of the #BBBH, as could the actors. We’d welcome that. But a video of that name would prove limiting to the ideals for which the Brotherhood stands.

The producers respected that and did not name the video.

This is just one example of many to set a precedence that the #BBBH cannot become the solely owned hook-up domain of RawTop.

I Did Not Want This

This is where I supposedly “threatened” a lawsuit. I just suggested that he might do better to invest in a different effort, not taking the brand built by so many brothers using our hashtag.

RawTop moved this debate into the public forum. I didn’t. I do not relish this battle. No one wins when the bareback community battles. Just because I don’t want the #BBBH to back a commercial venture against BarebackRT.com seems bizarre.

I can hope that RawTop steps back and thinks carefully about his impact on the overall community rather than how to line his pockets with more.

As he said, “To be clear – I make my money off the bareback community.”

To be clear, I don’t.

What do you think about this?

  • iBLASTinside is right (580%, 29 Votes)
  • #BBBH is for all (160%, 8 Votes)
  • Barebacking is wrong (100%, 5 Votes)
  • Who the fuck cares? (60%, 3 Votes)
  • RawTop is right (0%, 2 Votes)

Total Voters: 5

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In a Week of Victories, Barebackers Slammed with Yet More Hate

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The U.S. Supreme Court issued a couple of landmark rulings — one basically letting California resume marrying same-gender couples and the other, and much more important, striking down the so-called “Defense of Marriage Act” (or DOMA) as unconstitutional.

While the DOMA ruling still allows a patchwork of states to maintain their bigotry, it did provide some remarkable language from the high court. Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote:

“DOMA’s principal effect is to identify a subset of state-sanctioned marriages and make them unequal. The principal purpose is to impose inequality, not for other reasons like governmental efficiency. Responsibilities, as well as rights, enhance the dignity and integrity of the person. And DOMA contrives to deprive some couples married under the laws of their State, but not other couples, of both rights and responsibilities.”

In other words, the law was codified bigotry.

Now on to hypocritical bigotry

A day before the ruling, the pseudo-news site for gays, Queerty, ran a piece about the Bareback Brotherhood Open-New-Window-External. The slow editors — quick to pick up on the latest steroid-pumped pecs on meth-induced porn stars — just learned about the #BBBHBlue Star movement on Twitter more than two years in thanks to an “intrepid reader.”

Posting on our “about” page became our “mission statement.” And without interviewing one of our foundersBlue Star, began making sweeping statements.

Oh God, how I love the media.

On a website that glorifies the party culture of the gay community, where one can hardly pass a page without some naked flashes of overly shaved men, the editors decide to come down hard on a social group.

The “editors” on this money-making commercial website have one article dedicated to Treasure Island Media, the world’s largest bareback studio. Oh, it’s mentioned a few more times on the website, but the article is connected to a story about a California government agency fining the studio for failing to use (gasp!) condoms on set and exposing actors to bodily fluids.

When cute, twink-boy porn site Sean Cody went bareback, Queerty went a little soft on them, writing:

“Whether or not bareback porn leads to unprotected sex among viewers has been hotly contested and is almost impossible to prove. We generally err on the side of letting grown adults make their own judgment calls….” Open-New-Window-External

Then there’s how soft Queerty is with Maverick Men, a growing bareback media empire. Media darling Chris Crocker fucked raw there Open-New-Window-External and Maverick Men wrote a book worthy of an article Open-New-Window-External.

I also did a couple of searches on bareback hook-up websites. Our Queerty editors haven’t bothered to take them on. Not at all. BarebackRT.com Open-New-Window-External is safe from the wrath. And I doubt the editors know anything about the bareback gatherings like CumUnion Open-New-Window-External or the many other bareback fuck parties around. Or maybe the short bus hasn’t made it to those stops.

Bigotry to the People

But when it comes to bareback sex, the hammer must come down on the ordinary men of the Bareback Brotherhood. We’re the ones glorifying bareback sex and personally forcing people to get infected.

Never mind our bareback sex isn’t distributed to millions and sold. We are the masses. We’re the ones without the legal resources to sue or send a cease and desist letter. We’re not an organization that may someday, if Queerty can’t figure out what to do, buy a couple of skyscraper click-through ads on the website.

The editors, who’s probably just one condom Nazi needing a good breeding or a bareback denier who gets raw fucks all the time but can’t bring himself to tell the truth, puts himself on some platform of thinking he’s better than everyone.

He’s sitting back at his desk, smoking those Marlboro Reds after that satisfying Big Mac, fries and a chocolate shake of God-knows-what (but it wasn’t ice cream, milk or chocolate) and thinks he knows better for everyone what’s healthy for our lives.

And meanwhile, the money talks and every commercial enterprise gets a pass.

Blue Star Blue Star Blue Star Blue Star Blue Star

Mark Bentson, aka iBLASTinside, is a cofounder of the Bareback Brotherhood.

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Bareback Cherry Tales: “I’ve Never Done This”

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“I’ve never done this,” he said.

As he’s saying it, I’m almost not paying attention. I’m too focused on the fact that my raw cock is sliding in and out of his ass and I’m about to cum.

I’d just asked him if he wanted my load. He didn’t say yes. He didn’t say no. He didn’t pull away. In fact, his act began to back up more toward  my ass.

He’d been sitting on my cock since the fuck started. But this fuck was a long time coming. Probably almost two years.

This smooth boy with a perfectly average build, black hair and an Abercrombie & Fitch look chatted on and off for a while. I never hid I was a barebacker and that I would breed him. And he never hid he was a virgin to this whole raw thing.

But we’d go in spurts of chatting. Then he’d disappear.

Bored at home on a Friday, I posted an ad and he responded. He used a new e-mail I didn’t recognize. But he recognized me when I responded. I asked if he was ready for my load. His response was simple:

“Address?”

After about 20 minutes, he arrived. We were in my bed and making out, working our way to fucking. He claimed it had been more than eight months since his last fuck. He worked his way onto my cock, sitting onto it and taking his time. He never quite made it down to the hilt. Interestingly, his cock was bigger than mine. He had a nice, hard, pointed 8-inch cock.

As he took a seat, his cock began to spurt precum. I mean spurt.

“I precum a lot,” he said. He seemed to be enjoying it.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” he said.

I just let him ride it for a while. He jerked his cock a lot. I just hoped he wouldn’t cum. I arched my back and tried to get in a little deeper since I only made it about two-thirds in, but he prevented me from really making it in far.

He rode for a while and I asked if he’d gotten used to it and we could try another position.

“I’m afraid if we try another position, I’m not sure you can get back in,” he said.

“I want you on your stomach,” not really responding to him.

I moved him to lay flat down and found his hole. I pushed inside. I whispered, “Just relax,” as my cock went inside him.

Even from this position, his ass seemed to have a brutal bend that wouldn’t let me go more than about three-fourths in. I’d just have to let that be enough.

I snorted some poppers.

Even though this boy had been fucked before in his 28 years, he’d never been bred. And I would be the first man to deposit my DNA inside him.

“You want it?”

“What?” he said.

“My cum,” I said, with a dramatic pause. “Inside you.”

“I’ve never done this,” he said.

The combination of being the first man to mark this territory and the tightness of his hole put me to the point of no return.

“You’re about to,” I said. “You’re about to have cum inside you.”

He didn’t pull away. I didn’t have him in a death grip. He could. But the funny thing was how his ass finally began to move back toward me. How that subtle movement told me how much he really wanted it. He’d been so passive, so quiet. But now his ass moved with every thrust. My cock didn’t go deeper as much as it didn’t need to move as much.

I began to throb. The flood of cum started and I mean flood.

Lately, I’ve been producing a lot of cum. His ass kept moving, my cock coated with my own cum as thrust after thrust included several shots of cum.

I rested inside of him and let him continue to move a little. I recovered and offered to let him cum by riding me.

We flipped over and he would put my cockhead at his hole but never ever put it inside before shooting.

He wanted a quick exit and took it, but texted me several times, repeating several times how he’d never done this before and freaking out. It calmed down after a while, but just before midnight, I got the text, “Good night. Text me again when you’re free and want to fuck me again.”

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Travel Diary: A Little Latin Spice to Make My Tropical Vacation Memorable

Key West Postcard
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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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