Tag Archives: TIM

The #BBBH Belongs to No One

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?

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Stealthing, Stealth, Stealth Fucking

Q&A: Just Pozzed Out and My Viral Load Is High. Should I Continue to Stealth?

Occasionally, I get e-mails from my readers asking questions. With permission, I answer them here.

 

QuestionI love your blog and your stories. I’m a versatile and sometimes get fucked and sometimes do the fucking. I since I’ve hit 30, I just really couldn’t stand using the condoms any more. But some guys insisted.

Then I found your blog. And read all about the whole stealth thing.

I get your point. You wrote about it as a warning to guys but you know, a lot of people are dumb and all. I had to get the cum in my ass and I needed to breed too. I made lots of condoms with pinprick holes. I always had condoms on me. Fuck, I even had friends ask me and I gave them away. I’ve left them around sleazy gay bars.

I finally got a poz test, which doesn’t bother me at all. Barebacking is a hotter experience now. Now I really think I’m breeding a guy and it’s taking hold.

My viral load is high. Man, I’m toxic, with millions swimming in me. I’m trying to decide if I want to go on meds or just continue to fuck my way through the world for a while.

But I’m having second thoughts about stealthing or slipping one of my special condoms on a top fucking me.

What would you do?

 

AThe question is where you meet these potential fucks.

There’s this hideous gasp among some fags that an anonymous hook-up should be an honest exchange of information and despite the numerous dishonest exchange about age, weight, etc. prior to someone’s dick going in someone else’s mouth, it’s some sort of cardinal sin if a condom isn’t used.

Never mind how we kill ourselves with crystal meth, smoking and booze.

But those choices are addictions and diseases while bareback fucking is wrong, wrong, wrong!

In my opinion, you should go on meds. Anything to keep more bareback fuckers fucking, I’m in favor. It’s between you and your doctor how aggressive  you want to be with the millions of friends you’ve got swimming around inside you now.

(And for any chasers, let me know who you are and I’ll consider sharing my toxic buddy’s info with you — with his permission — share his with you. You might want to include a pic.)

When I stealth, it’s usually a place like an adult bookstore or sex club. I was just there the other day and the fucking bottom I slipped my cock into pulled me out and insisted I wear a condom.

He didn’t provide one, mind you. I needed one.

I provided one. And he got a nice ride out of it and I got what I wanted. Interestingly enough, he kept checking to see if the condom was on, so I couldn’t rip it off. I didn’t need to do so because the fucker missed the point.

You want to be “safe,” you control the scene.

I brought my own “condoms,”  which in the darkened room he couldn’t see each one lacked the full tip (not just the pinhole prick you use).

Guess what fucker? You were loaded!

Now this little tweaker, who was in a darkroom and never saw me or anyone else who fucked his hole. If I know what goes down in these dastardly places, I also wasn’t the only one to stealth that day.

Let’s discuss the logistics of the whole thing.

The guy I fucked was a slut. And while there’s plenty of DNA evidence in his ass, who’s to say the condom didn’t fail or, despite my words here, he didn’t give me a condom that was broken and I was the one duped. As we both know, that’s a possibility as well.

If you’re inviting men over to your place and fucking them at your house… well, that’s just another story. I’d personally never use the broken condom bit in private one-on-one condom bit.

Spike-ItThat said, I have (on occasion) not honored the request to “pull out” in a timely manner. If the bottom is stupid to let me inside to play, I’m going to finish the game and score the touchdown. Truth is, most of the time they end up begging for it there anyway.

I’d also be a little careful about distributing sabotaged condoms. Anyone to simply pickup free condoms and expect them to work are stupid, but your fingerprints are probably on them and, well, I’d hate for some vengeful faggot to track you down (and in your city, they would).

After all this chatter, let’s boil it down:

Yes, Do…

  • Fuck raw. If the opportunity presents itself, fuck raw.
  • Go on meds. 
  • While you’re toxic, seek out chasers and gift. 
  • Stealth in sleazy places where bareback sex is the norm.
  • Stealth as a bottom.

No, Don’t…

  • Distribute sabotaged condoms anymore anywhere. 
  • Stealth as a top in one-on-one hook-ups

Best of luck and enjoy your new status. And don’t let the Aryan bastards get you down.

 

I love the occasional questions, so please send them along to 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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Gloryhole cock shoots a load in Jarod's ass

Ongoing Fucking

While I have not been able to post it, I have bred. And often. My Chicago trip saw three receive my juice, which I still intend to record here about two as both were worth the marking — one a loaded Latin, as I mentioned in an earlier post. The other a cheating cub, away from his hubby on business and taking loads from strangers.

I’ve bred four or five others during the blur of my travels. Most are anonymous. Some know who I am but most don’t and I don’t give a fuck one way or another. My notorious blog does give way to allowing me access to ass, which I appreciate.

I’ve also had the lovely honor of loading up an escort who’s decided to try out Atlanta for a time. This adorable (and honestly sweet) young man offers up his ass and appreciates a good fucking.

If you’re in Atlanta or the northern side of town, hit up SubBtmEscort on BarebackRT.com. I hope to get him to open up for one of my more detailed conversations as a bareback escort.

And if you hire him, please mention me. In fact, just say “hi” thanks to me.

I’ve also fucked at Inserection at Cheshire Bridge, the adult bookstore with some of Atlanta’s best gloryholes. The comments on my Inserection page are correct: The place now charges for the rooms upstairs.

I find this is a good thing. Too many meth-head asswipes were abusing the open rooms and flopping upstairs, sleeping off their highs. Now you find sex happening downstairs and more fucking. I’ve bred more thanks to this push downstairs, especially through gloryholes.

Just yesterday, I actually ended up in a booth with a former Marine — at least I am guessing he was former. Gosh, more than any other branch of the service, those guys just love getting it up the ass. And this one did too, taking my load with gusto.

All this said…

While I’ve written all this, I do think things will need to shift or change.

I haven’t figured out exactly how. Do I mean I’m settling down? Not at all. I can’t. I need to spread my seed. I always will.

But I also need a better resource of ass. And although I’ve craved to help pass on the skills I’ve learned, I still haven’t found someone dedicated enough to mentor.

I pass the time. Waiting.

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#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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