Tag Archives: Profanity

What Is Rape?

What Is Rape?

I get a fucking lot of accusations in my inbox. Often. Here’s one of the more interesting:

When I was 18, a top I met off phone chat had me come to his place. When I arrived, he was much older than described…

I get inside he immediately grabs my head and slams it against door then rapes me raw. He degraded me racially, calling me nasty Asian slurs.

After he was done, he hid my cell phone and keys and kept me for 15 days.

I was used as sex slave to pay for his meth addiction and infected. A black man felt bad and freed me — the only one out of 65 RAPISTS.

I went to police and he was arrested. But [during my captivity], he sent texts to his cell from mine saying everything was consensual AND IT WASN’T.

He now walks free and I hate him and, because of [the AIDS] virus, I no longer date.

I hate you, Mark, and all other violent predators.

For some of you perverts out there (and you know I love you all), you’re jerking off just thinking about this scenario. But let’s get to this Asian gentleman’s message to me and splice it apart, step by step.

Rape Is Bad

I do not believe this story. Here’s why I don’t:

If this 18-year-old gentleman disappeared for 15 days, his family, friends or others would have noticed. Sure, this violent man might have created some text messages back and forth, but those messages would have occurred after the disappearance. Any cell phone records could show that.

Further, in many states, to knowingly pass along HIV is criminal. HIV maintains a portion of the DNA from the source. A test could determine whether the victim was indeed infected by the older man.

I believe the consent likely came from this young man before the disappearance. He told some friends and family he would be gone a while — probably not 15 days — and after a while, came not to like the scene he’d fantasized about because the reality wasn’t quite and fun as the jerk off images.

I’ve seen that often and any of you with any level of kinks would agree.

Nonetheless, if I suspend my disbelief, let me just say if this is true, this is bad.

Let me also suggest to the writer that — unlike my website, which is about sex — that the guy who kidnapped you and held you captive, did that violent act to you. It wasn’t the sex, but the power play that you didn’t like (and the fact he was older than he initially said).

Safety in Hook-Ups

The dear letter writer made a gigantic boo-boo, for which he fails to take accountability. And I get so fucking tired of hearing this shit from people who read some of my posts.

Every time someone goes to a stranger’s home or hotel room or wherever to fuck, you’re taking a risk. Didn’t mamma teach you not to talk to strangers, much less fuck them (or let them fuck you)?

Gay men … damn, all men … love casual sex. We let our cocks put us into places we shouldn’t be. I’ve been there. And this guy ended up some place he shouldn’t have been.

Do not blame anyone else for that.

I’m not saying he dressed slutty so he should have been raped or anything like that. He didn’t deserve to be held hostage for 15 days — if indeed, that’s what happened.

But he’s not innocent.

He want to blame the car for hitting him head on when he was already driving on the wrong side of the road. He did something dangerous.

Fucker beware

I No Longer Date

Oh. My. God. Being Poz prevents this little fucker from dating.

All of you Poz guys out there need to stop dating, stop fucking and curl up into a ball and just shit yourselves.

Another reason not to believe this story: The idea that life ends with seroconversion. Hell, for some, becoming Poz means life begins. No longer worried about when HIV might arrive, but knowing that it’s now there with you.

(As an aside, I’m impressed the dude also counted all 65 guys who fucked him.)

If indeed this is true, let me speak to you, my Asian letter writer:

You need to speak with a professional and go into counseling for this trauma.

You need to find a way to move on, date and find a way to heal. The amount of pent up hate you’ve gathered up into yourself is preventing you from seeing that life continues. You survived something terrible but not everyone is out to hurt you.

Jumping Off the Hate Cliff

Now he says I am out to hurt him. I’m some sort of predator.

I’m not. Never have been.

If you’re upset about the stealthing thing, I’ve explained it time and time again and don’t really need to do it again.

If you’re upset that I use bottoms, all tops do whether they admit it or not.

I just think you’re upset. And once the proper counseling is in place, you’ll be better off.

I didn’t fuck you. I didn’t abduct you. I didn’t hold you hostage. Don’t hate me.

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Open Letter: Putting Bottoms on Notice

Open Letter: Putting Bottoms on Notice

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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We Started at a Glory Hole

We Started at a Glory Hole

For some reason, Inserection proved to be a little busy that day. I’d been sucked by a few men. None stood out. He’d been running a little late. But eventually showed up and we secured a glory hole across from one another.

He sucked me some then slid his ass onto my hard cock through the hole.

The initial entry can always be different. Has he been fucked prior and opened up? That can be a very smooth, easy entry. If the cock was huge, then we’re talking about hot dog down a hallway smooth. Sometimes I don’t get enough friction to get off.

Then there’s the ones who are tighter than an unfucked preteen before the priest molestation. That can be painful, especially because my cock stands rock-hard and I can allow someone that tight to slide onto it.

With his, he’d messaged I’d be churning up a load already deposited a couple of hours earlier. That said, he’d be tightened up.

But his ass started with that resistance to entrance then began to open enough to allow my head to pop inside. His ass hugged my cock. Tight. And like a velvet wrap of warmth with the cum-soaked interior, I felt him back onto my cock.

After he had enough time to adjust, I began my assault on his ass. But it felt just too good to let myself cum too quickly. And I just wanted to get a little deeper. When he came off me and I felt a tap on my cock.

I pulled out and bent over, thinking he’d invite me to his booth.

“Want to go to the darkroom?”

The darkroom was just that… a darkened room with some sofas around the edge of the room. One couldn’t see very well in the space, just shadows, really. Since Inserection had decided to lock the rooms upstairs and charge for their use, the darkroom gained in popularity.

Unfortunately, some asshole will occasionally come in and turn on their cell phones to get a glimpse of what’s going on. Once, a man even punched someone for it. But I was fucking someone and didn’t bother to pay attention much.

I went in behind him, my pants barely cinched up around my hardon. Interestingly enough, he didn’t go far into the room. Right in the doorway, with the best of all possible views (with the light that filtered in), he dropped his pants and climbed onto the semi-sofa and presented his ass.

I opened my pants and aimed for his hole.

The entry this time was perfect. Just enough resistance for perfection in pleasure.

And I began fucking in earnest. Slowing down some. Speeding up. Pacing myself.

A crowd formed around us. I felt hands on my ass, even around my asshole. But no one dared step behind me, lest it dampen what little light came in.

Occasionally a hand would venture down to check and see whether I was wearing a condom. Of course I wasn’t.

I bent over, he arched up.

“You want my load?” I asked.

“Breed my negative ass,” he responded.

An odd response. This bottom hadn’t bothered to discuss status.

“You want my jizz, no matter what?”

“Give it to me!”

“You got it.”

I stood and began really fucking him, pounding him into that sofa. He started breathing harder.

“Here’s my fucking load,” I growled as I felt my balls tighten up.

As I normally do unless I’m stealthing, I plunged in and completely stopped moving for the initial pulse of my cock.

My cockhead swelled in his tight hole. As it did, he inhaled and gasped. My taint muscles then let loose the first giant pulse and my cum jetted into his guts. He started to practically scream.

I resumed my fucking, feeling my cum mix in the creamy Santorum already mucked up in this bottom’s ass. The crowd surged closer and one old troll lost his load on the floor.

Obviously, the bottom shot all over the sofa thing. He would tell me later he’d never felt anything like it.

“That’s why I’m called, ‘iBLASTinside.'”

Other men pulled at me to fuck them but, for the moment, I was satisfied. I left, headed home before the traffic got too bad.

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The Bareback Side of Chicago: The Beefy Ass Welcome

The Bareback Side of Chicago: The Beefy Ass Welcome

If you’re reading this day of publishing, I’m still in Chicago and looking for ass. Hit me up on BBRT (iBLASTinside) or via e-mail (iblastinside@gmail.com) and don’t make me beg for your pics. 

Red Star   Red Star   Red Star   Red Star   Red Star

It’s strange I’ve never made it here — at least that I recall. I’m sitting looking out my hotel window, trying to drown out the din of the streets below.

Chicago-AssThis is one fucking loud city. I’m 15 stories up and the noise is still deafening. I could have been on a higher floor, but I got this one because I wanted a king bed.

Fucking is always easier on a king bed rather than two doubles. I always prefer king beds.

Prior to my arrival, I set up my posting as being in Chicago and BarebackRT.com lit up. In fact, I made the front page of BBRT as a most-viewed profile.

It grew impossible for me to keep up with everyone pinging me with OINKs along with other questions. Please fuck me. Breed me.

Shit like that.

It still amazes me the number of people begging to be bred. Too many of these backwash assholes offer crappy profiles with blurry photos from 15 years ago, yet they’re still unflattering.

Me, breed your ass?

Naw, I’m good man.

I even saw one guy send me a pic of cum and shit leaking out of his ass. Not a good combination. Now I’m someone who believes if you’re going to fuck an ass raw, there’s bound to be some shit every once in a while.

But never on purpose.

Somehow, in the midst of all the fucking noise, I did manage the connection with the ass shown in this entry. I texted him when I landed and shortly after checking into my hotel, he arrived. With a kiss, he stripped and went to sucking my cock.

Slut.

Just the kind of bottom I like.

Before long, I was fucking him. I flipped him over and rode him until I shot a huge load into his ass. If he told it accurately, his fourth of the evening.

When I rolled off, he stuck a finger up his ass, pulled it out and tasted it.

“MMMM,” he  said.

He then sucked my cock clean. We had a nice deep kiss and off he went into the night.

Now I’m looking for ass number two. I’m thinking something a little tighter, smaller… not so beefy.

 

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Fuck Fuck Fuck

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Fucks

I’ve been traveling a lot. And it doesn’t look like it will let up anytime soon. And I’ve been fucking lucky.

Literally.

The ass in each city ends up being hot, hot, hot.

If I tried to write about every ass and each encounter, you’d all love it — I know. But I don’t have time. I’m just that busy.

Allow me to summarize some of the highlights.

Mid-Atlantic Tropical Hot Ass

I usually advertise my arrival in advance of my arrival. My ads usually announce that a top blogger is coming to town, looking for some bottom inspiration. I require some basic information from those who want to learn about the blog, since a vast majority of people just want the jerk off material.

I don’t mind. But I want to get a glimpse of who’s going to see it.

Occasionally, some people know who it is. Or they figure it out quickly. These are my fan fuck plans. Some people can be dedicated fans, who read up on me in great details. Others are just the guys who read me when it’s time to jerk off.

This young, very tan man hits me up and begins begging.

Now you have to understand. The younger the bottom, the less reliable. Young men in their twenties are notorious unreliable. I’ve made plans with hem in cities only to end up with a dry dick in hand.

This one really seemed genuine.

And not to bore you with details, he worked out well considering that this time, I ended up running late. He arrived after I finally got into my hotel room. Without hesitation, he worked into an embrace and kiss.

A good kiss.

His sucking worked at getting me hard. But when I finally got into his hairy ass, the fucking tight ass proved to be phenomenal.

Too phenomenal.

It’s been a while since I’ve bred someone three times in a row. But this little fucker kept me hard through all three. I never really slowed down. Of course, I’d been saving up a little. His exotic mixture of Latin and native tropics. A little hair on his chest and these juicy nipples.

His ass never truly loosened up.

If I ever slipped out, this bottom would let out an exasperated plea to put it back in.

I never went soft. His talent seemed unending to keep me hard. He’d read about where to touch me, how to keep me interested and what to do to arouse me.

He is someone who will be fucked again.

University City Slut

It’s summertime, so most of the college kids are at home, screwing around there and not at school. Just my luck I get to go to the midwest and a town that’s pretty much nothing but a university-supported town.

There’s a small contingency of college kids around — too many of them catfish (fakes who claim to want fucking). I’d just about given up.

I’d messaged a guy on BarebackRT.com before my arrival and, well, he pops back online. I invite him over and, 30 minutes later, this thirtysomething is sucking my cock on my hotel room bed.

We went into fuck mode and his neg hole is just begging me to squirt my load inside him a coat his insides fulls of my DNA.

I do.

All you have to do is beg. And this bottom does.

It’s after all the fucking, with us winded on such an intense session, that he admits to having known who I was, loving my blog and basically wanting to find out if he could really feel it “blast inside.”

(Yes, he could feel it.)

He’d gone to dinner with friends and ditched them between the restaurant and the club to swing by and get fucked by me. But we’d promised for a more extensive session next time.

My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know I’m a Slutty Bottom

Occasionally, one of those 20-year-old guys with an impossibly smooth body e-mails me. I figure the photo has been Photoshopped until there’s not a freckle, not a blemish and no stray hairs.

I’m in Texas and on BarebackRT.com when this little fucker e-mails me, volunteering to come take my load. I tell him the hotel. He asks the room. I give it. He says 15 minutes.

And in 17 minutes, there’s a knock at my door. A gorgeous boy walks in, lithe, tall, Latin and beautiful. His shirt is coming off as he steps into the room. He isn’t hesitating.

His chest is perfect. Just barely definition but no imperfections. Anywhere.

The lights are down low because I fucking hate the harsh lighting of hotels. He flips an end-table light on, its florescent yellow blinking into cold existence. But this boy’s skin is still perfect, reflecting the seamless skin with just a peach fuzz of hair that tingles as I run my fingers over it.

He’s naked now and grabbing for my pants.

He sucks me. I was already hard. He slobbers all over my cock. He thumbs his huge uncut cock a little as he comes up and kisses me with the perfect thick lips and then turns around and lines up my cock with his perfect little pucker.

And he pushes.

I’m inside him.

This insatiable boy just begins to ride. But I can’t be a passive top. I move him into a few positions and I pummel him.

He begs for my cum. He says he wants it bad. Please give it to him. I do. I load him up deep.

I lay in the glow afterward, letting my fingertips run over this perfect boy’s skin.

As we talk, it turns out I’m the fourth load in him tonight, although he’d cleaned out for me — I jokingly scold him for doing that. He assures me I’m the first of many loads as he leaves me for a few more.

His boyfriend is working tonight. He’s out for as many loads as possible. And he takes all loads. Doesn’t matter. Oh, he’s a little picky. Hard cocks only.

Never heard of my blog. Couldn’t care less. He just wanted my cum. He just wanted me to blast inside.

Straight Boy and Gay Bottom

In a southern city, I’ve chosen a ginger to fuck. He finally arrives. When he walks in, I recognize him immediately.

He’s straight. He’s a straight bottom. (Yes, they exist.)

He walks in and basically gets to sucking me. Nothing nice about it. He’s not very good, but it’s enough to harden me up. I step behind him and slick my cock up when he mentioned he has a condom.

I don’t protest. I put it on. At least, that’s what he sees. He lines it up with his hole, feeling the condom on it but after it goes in his hole, I pull it out and pull off the condom in a single motion and slide back inside. As soon as I’m in him bare I feel it.

His asshole is throbbing.

Damn inexperienced bottoms.

He’s shooting his load all over my bed.

Pisses me off a little, but I’ve been inside him raw and he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and that’s why he shot off so quick.

He liked it raw.

He’s out the door and I’m on the prowl again. I don’t find another taker until the next day… this a gay guy who just had this terrific body. I didn’t see a face. I get a little concerned when I don’t see a face at all.

He walks in an angel, with these stunning eyes.

We get to the act quickly, although I wanted to take my time. And we fuck for longer than I intended because I want to give him the best I can.

He enjoys it.

We finally kiss as he leaves a load lighter and a load heavier.

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