Tag Archives: stud

TIMFuck: Sam Porter, Jacob James and Alex Kage

When real life couple Sam Porter and Jacob James heard their fuck toy for the day was going to be Alex Kage, they got pretty excited. So excited, in fact, Sam can’t wait for the kid to arrive and dives right in, eating out his boyfriend’s ass. Once Alex gets to the alley, the guys are quick to welcome him — and Alex is just as quick to surrender, eagerly inviting the hot ‘n’ hung Euro studs to use and abuse both of his holes to their heart’s content.

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TIMFuck: Nick Moretti, Blake Daniels and Nick Nicastro

For Blake Daniels, more is always better and one is never enough. Hung muscle studs Nick Moretti and Nick Nicastro team up to take on the challenge of giving the consummate fuck slut exactly what he needs: all the cock and cum his greedy holes can handle — and then some.

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Q&A: Is Jizzjoy Real? YES! Would I Be Less Uptight If I Went Raw? YES!

Q&A: Is Jizzjoy Real? YES! Would I Be Less Uptight If I Went Raw? YES!

A “conversation” of comments recently broke out on a post Opens new window of a page on this blog that needed a little more oomph, so I’m bringing it over to its own post when Mikey asked the following:

QuestionOn a less serious (or maybe I am serious…) note I wonder what you or Robert (or anyone else for that matter) think about whether I’d feel better and less uptight generally if I went raw. Is jizzjoy real ? And does it maybe have lasting benefits?

AnswerAllow me to address the jizzjoy Open-New-Window-External issue. The answer is a definitive, “Yes.” I think even you answered the question, but I’ll start with other folks and we’ll come back to you in a moment.

A poor straight surgeon lost his job over a scientific study where he found that sperm contained “mood enhancers” when injected into a woman’s vagina. His colleagues — especially the women — got their douched twats in a twist over the whole thing and he went down Opens new window of a page on this blog like a cocksucker in a gay rugby team’s locker room.

I’ve also witnessed jizzjoy more than once, the most compelling being a young hairy beast Opens new window of a page on this blog who quivered and shook at my cum entering his ass.

What I’ve never written about is fucking him a second time, when I didn’t cum as much as the first time. I’d bred someone the night before and, well, if you want extra juice from me, you’ve got a little work to do. We didn’t have time for him to do it. When I shot, his reaction proved to be significantly muted.

I didn’t tell him I shot less. I didn’t indicate I’d fucked another raw ass the night before. I’d showered in between so he couldn’t have guessed.

His body just didn’t shudder like it did the first time when he got several days of built up cum flooding his cunt.

Not even a week ago, I fucked and bred a slut who’s had so many men, he’d rival my totals —although he’d never heard of me. He’s enjoyed the explosive warmth filling his guts numerous times.

As I let my cum go, he described the sensation like a “tree suddenly branching out and exploding into blossoms throughout his body.” He said he could feel it everywhere, from the curls in his toes to the tingling in his fingertips to the tip of his tongue.

a_me_cumI’m illustrating this, in a way, not to brag but to say some people may have more of the therapeutic sperm with the natural mood enhancers than others because when I breed, people seem to walk away feeling better.

Are there a lasting benefits?

When it comes to mood enhancers like Prozac or Zoloft, one must take them daily. Heck, for the full effect on some people, one must take the pharmaceuticals twice a day or extra large doses.

No mood enhancer stays in a patient’s system for an extended period of time.

If you choose to go with sperm therapy, I recommend regular breedings — once or twice a day. Of course, if you receive a massive overdose on the weekends, sometimes you can make it as far as Wednesday, but by Thursday, your mood will dictate a need for more.

Once you go bare, you’ll always be aware when a cock is wrapped in plastic. You’ll get little to no satisfaction with something between you and the man fucking you.

Uptight Condom Nazi Who Wants a Breeding

You wrote this response in our correspondence: “And we both know if he did stealth me I’d scream with pleasure.” Opens new window of a page on this blog

I don’t think I suggested you’re uptight. You did.

And you’ve divulged your true desire.

I don’t know why you haven’t gone ahead and took a load. You should. I don’t know why. Maybe the hesitation could be explained to me.

Further, I think you’ve discovered your true nature as a bareback bottom, but you just deny it. You can’t face it. Why not?

Hate (3 of 3)

Hate (3 of 3)

A blind leading the blind mentality seems to permeate the world. We don’t want our children to be taught about sex or they might have it. Yet we all have cocks and vaginas and asshole and clits.

Then there’s this thing called the Internet and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which goes where. Before you know it, little honors student and Christian Jessica Jane Lister is pregnant with football quarterback Cody Wall’s baby and they’ve both got genital warts.

We want our schools to teach creationism but not evolution but we don’t want our churches to support science. Hell, the Georgia Legislature is trying to pass a law that citizens have a right to carry guns into their churches, so we can kill the preacher if he says something blasphemous (like Jesus turned water into wine; wrong! Jesus turned water into grape juice).

It stands to reason that a lot of the hate I’ve garnered causing people to protest against Str8Cam Jeff Opens new window of a page on this blog and others steams from a misunderstanding of my most controversial posts about stealthing.

I know a lot of my readers think stealthing is hot, hot, hot. You jerk off to it. It’s the forbidden fruit. All of us have fantasies we all enjoy, just beyond the borders of what we’d really do.

Then again, it might be something we do.

In the barebacking world, there’s bug-chasing and gift-giving along with a Russian roulette of who-the-fuck-cares breeds us.

But I am known for stealthing, for giving the world the top 10 tips for stealthing Opens new window of a page on this blog, for explaining barebacking in meaningful ways that there’s no denying what’s really happening.

I have been deceptive. And that’s not explaining all my motivations.

The Entire Truth

Whenever I watch a magician — even someone like Lance Burton or David Copperfield — it’s become second nature for me to figure out how the trick is done. It’s not really hard to do. I can’t stand to watch “America’s Got Talent” and to see Howie Mandel be amazed at a relatively simple trick and to say, “I don’t know how you did that!”

I can tell you.

When I began the entries on busting condoms, taking condoms off and other forms of sabotage, the outrage was palpable. Most hated it. Many thought I’d broken some sacred contract.

How, I have no idea. Anonymous sex is just that. Why they have this higher-than-mighty sense one must adhere to a code when fucking someone who you don’t even know their first name, I don’t comprehend. Why? And especially why when one knows the other person isn’t put into any harm.

The mighty think that the stealther has some puss-filled cock shooting out disease upon infection and reigning some destruction upon the other.

Nonetheless, until I started writing about it, no one was.

I don’t count myself as some savior. I don’t. But I do see some of what I wrote as an education.

I do explain if you’re stupid enough to want to fuck in places where you’re not going to know your top or bottom, how one might protect oneself. How to bring your own condoms, monitor the use of the condoms and maintain your own safety.

You are accountable for your own safety. No one else.

Welcome to Real Life

It’s so very odd how some consider this bond of sex sacred even though you’re fucking with a stranger. For example, if a journalist is speaking to a source and the source wants to go “off the record” — meaning the content to follow is not to be published or broadcast — the journalist must agree to do so verbally as well. It must be stated so and both parties have to make an agreement.

Pulling out a condom just with the assumption someone will wear it doesn’t work that way.

I’m not saying this stuff just to piss people off. I’m trying to get reality to sink in. This is how the world works. Assuming an asshole top who wants to get off raw or a bottom who wants a load is going to fuck according to some honor code is just plain stupid.

 

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Bareback top visiting New Hampshire

Travel Diary: Bottoms Blah Blah Blah

Flakes are universal, along with fakes and catfish Open-New-Window-External. This I know.

But when it comes to superstar flaking out, New Hampshire takes the fucking cake. In fact, my visit to Concord might take the bakery.

Allow me to explain.

I always post future destinations in my travel plans on my BarebackRT.com profile Open-New-Window-External. I notify readers here Open-New-Window-External that I’m visiting. Of course, all this is tweeted Follow on Twitter and ends up on my Facebook Open-New-Window-External.

To enhance it all further, I post on Craigslist an add that looks something like the following:

TOP blogger visiting looking for bottom writing inspiration – m4m (Concord Area)

I’m a blogger who writes about my sexual experiences on the road with bottoms I encounter… My blog is read by thousands every single day, reproduced on several sites and even some entries end up on a famous porn studio’s website.

Perhaps you might like to be the inspiration for a piece when I slide into town next week?

I don’t identify the bottoms I fuck, just write about the experience…

Hit me up with your info — a pic, stats, etc. I’ll respond with my blog details so you can check it out. We’ll go from there.

The site contains a lot of information beyond my fucks. And if you happen to be a top, we can tag team or maybe you’d like to try sitting on my cock… it’s a perfect 7 inches cut.

Thanks!

P.S. The only major requirement (other than bottoming for me) is that you don’t smoke.

From all this, I do get a lot of inquiries. Most of them are lurkers who never intend to meet. This I get. It’s also an opportunity to find new people to read my blog since not all barebackers have found the Bareback Brotherhood or my blog.

With many there’s the “I just fuck safe,” and then more than half switch their story.  But some don’t. Yet, with my blog, it becomes a jerk-off destination for many.

When I do finally arrive, I e-mail the best back to see if they’re still up for that fuck.

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Arriving in Concord

My arrival in Concord allowed me to long in locally to BarebackRT.com, Grindr, Scruff and Manhunt.net, all of which use a geographic tool to notify one who’s closest. I also posted to Craigslist.

Two men of the many interested e-mailed me back saying they were still up for the fuck, but one 4 p.m. pump-and-dump session became a no-show with regrets arriving several hours later because he was “stuck somewhere.”

Flake.

All of my online activity netted me a lot of interest. A lot. I was fresh meat in a town that didn’t see a lot. Of course, I got the usuals…

People just wanting to collect photos, see my cock or face.

I had one prospect on BarebackRT… he was a fucking hot dude in his late twenties… seemed like a good one. But here’s where we begin one issue that baffled me for Concord.

He had no vehicle.

I needed to come to him and pick him up, bring him back to my hotel to fuck and then take him home.

Now please check out the map.

Concord is not a major city. It’s 1½ hours north of Boston. It’s not a walking city. How can you not have a car and survive, especially when you’re not in college?

This turned into a theme of the night. No car. No transportation. My car is in the shop. My car is in the shop due to the storm. I don’t have a car.

By the way, none of these bottoms ever asked where I was staying to see if I happened to be within walking distance.

I don’t guess Northeastern tops teach bottoms they’re the ones who need to make the effort Opens new window of a page on this blog.

While some of them were hot enough for me to go and fetch them, it turns out I didn’t rent the car but a colleague did. I simply wasn’t an option.

Then came the other morons.

I also get a collection of those who want to postpone. These guys appear in every city, without fail. I wonder if they ever fuck. All conversations go something like this.

THEM: “How long you in town?”

ME: Just tonight (no matter how long I’m in town, I always say I’m here “just tonight”)

THEM: “Damn! It’s getting late tonight.”

ME: It’s just 9:30.

THEM: “I know but I have to get up early. I wish you were here…” fill in the blank with “tomorrow night” or “this weekend”

In other words, they can never come over now or today.

Proximity Alert

My first promising opportunity looked like a threesome, which I won’t get into too much detail on. In his early thirties and a scruffy blond, wanted to know if I wanted to fuck both him and another guy, in his early twenties — both online at the same time. As if on cue, the younger one sends me a message.

The younger one asks if I’ve got poppers, which of course I do.

Then he asks if I’ve got anything “more fun.”

WTF.

“Dude,” I respond back. “You’re well aware I’ve come into town. That means I flew. That means I went through security. At an airport. Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I have any drugs?”

He responds, “Oh yea, I guess you’re right. But I still want to fuck.”

Anyway, the vibe is off and the duo then go even more weird. The young one claims the old one is stalking him. The old one claims they’re “together.”

I don’t want to get into the shit. Kick them both to the curb.

Right Downstairs

One last opportunity happens as a guy indicates he’s in a hotel. I ask which one and it turns out he’s in the same one as I am.

Bingo.

He won’t disclose his room, so I give him mine, knowing my colleague isn’t on that floor. He tells me he needs 10 minutes to shower and get cleaned up.

Those 10 minutes pass. Then another 10. Another 10. Yet another 10. And at 45 minutes, I finally message him.

He apologizes, saying it’s taking him longer than he thought to clean out his ass.

Whatever, I say, just get his ass to my room.

Then he says come to his.

I tell him I don’t have his room number.

He says okay, he’s now putting on his clothes.

At an hour after we started this exchange, he says he’s on his way.

Then I get a text asking me if I’ll suck his dick too.

I’m baffled. I just ask, “What?”

Then he writes, “I need to run by the front desk real quick.”

Fuck that.

This fucker is just playing me.

“Forget it.”

He gets all bent out of shape. Says he won’t go by the front desk. Blah blah blah.

After some back and forth, I say he can some to my room, but he has three minutes to get there.

He says he doesn’t like my attitude.

I tell him to fuck off.

The next morning, he begs me to come to his room to fuck him.

I tell him I’m not disturbing  guests actually staying in the hotel.

Postscript

Perhaps the little fucker actually was staying in the hotel or maybe he was one of the guys I’d e-mailed earlier and said I was in town and knew the hotel from that. I’ll never know. I’m proud I never knocked on anyone’s door. That shit pisses me off. He probably kept delaying things to try and get someone else to come over and knock on my door but, like me, couldn’t find anyone to do it.

My luck is your luck, fucker.

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