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Fucking Draven Torres

Fantasy Fulfilled… Fucking Porn Performer Draven Torres

He messaged me.

Shocking, I know. After several years of hoping, wanting, even begging a porn performer or two to let me fuck and breed them, Draven Torres messages me out of the blue.

Now I’m not so presumptuous to think everyone knows me and he didn’t. He had no idea of this online persona. And, mind you, while this incredibly beautiful specimen of manliness does escort, he did not hit me up for cash.

He saw my cock and wanted fucked.

Hey, everyone gets horny.

I went over.

pornFirst, he is better looking in person. Now that’s odd to saw considering just how fucking hot he is in his photographs, but photos fail to relay how a smile can literally light up this guy’s face… or the room. He’s got a hint of deviousness with an underpinning of pure, smoldering masculinity.

Considering that I’m 6-foot-3 and he’s 5-foot-5, there’s a height difference but surely still he filled the room.

When we kissed — yes, I kissed him first — he proved to be incredibly talented there. His full lips knew how and where to move. He moved immediately to a blowjob, although I was already fully erect, with no hesitation to take my cockhead into his throat. Gag reflex? What the fuck was that? Silky and smooth, enough pressure, indeed this man was a pro.

He popped off my cock and asked a magic question: “Do you eat ass?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” I responded. And he presented me with his absolutely perfect mounds with the darker pucker.

I dove in, tasting the sweet perfection of his hole.

He began to groan.

I pushed my tongue deeper as his asshole began to grip at my hole, begging for it to move deeper. I sloppily dove in and made room, slobbering it up with my spit and making him open and ready.

Until I couldn’t wait any more. And I mounted up, positioning my cock at his hole, covering his deeply inked body with mine and beginning to insert my cock.

Draven knew how to work it. Tightening his sphincter and then relaxing, letting a little in. This proceeded until I was buried. He had twisted his head around and kissed me deeply, licking the taste of his ass off my tongue.

Over the course of the next hour, I would fuck his ass in a variety of positions, coming so close. Until we ended up in this position again… me mounting his back and thrusting inside him. This porn god begging for my cum and finally, in this tight hole, me unleashing a torrent of cum.

Draven Torres is one of my top 10 fucks in my life. Not because he was a porn star. That has absolutely nothing to do with it. His skills are well beyond porn performances.

He is a good human being. A great fuck. If you ever happen to catch him in your town, hire him.

Red Star      star_grey      star_green      Blue Star      gold star

Draven Torres on BBRT

Draven Torres on RentMen.com

Draven Torres on Twitter

Draven Torres on Facebook

 

 

 

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Georgia Gay Cub Reporters Write Cute Newspaper Article About Me & Pal

link Georgia Boys Founders of Gay Men’s ‘Bareback Brotherhood’

 

So the above appeared in the GA Voice back in June 2013.  It’s the Gay rag for the Atlanta area. I’d say Georgia and I image a few people pick some up in Savannah and maybe Augusta (where these fine reporters probably haven’t noticed that two of three major Georgia hubs host huge bareback orgies once a month).

I’m glad that two of the three of the founders of the Bareback Brotherhood or #BBBH qualify as “boys.”

Fuck that.

I don’t know about @GaPozAthens, but last time I checked, I am a MAN.

Further, did you know you don’t have to be Gay to be in the Bareback Brotherhood?

That’s right. Ding ding ding!

You just have to be a guy to be a part of a brotherhood. Duh.

Bareback as a bi, as a straight or even just curious. Doesn’t matter.

Just fuck raw.

 

 

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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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Time for Some Fresh Fucks in 2014

Time for Some Fresh Fucks in 2014

Around this time of year, I review my top fucks for 2013 and head toward 2014. But not this year.

While 2013 did contain some good ass worth recalling (like Chris the escort who seems to be all over the place these days, a hot Indy bottom, a Baltimore hottie, along with one or two others), it was not a banner year for me and breeding.

In fact, I’d consider myself a bit off my game.

All totaled up for 2013, I made 213 deposits, 31 stealths and actually took 11 in my own ass.

Yes, I’ve been bottoming.

A top must never be complacent in his skill set. Being open to the possibilities is a must. Normally these topping sessions occur in conjunction with a massage session, where a therapist takes the time to relax me and allow me to open up, so to speak.

But a couple of times, it’s just been a beautiful cock and I really didn’t feel like sucking it until it came. And it seemed like such a waste to let it go someplace else when I had a perfectly good ass I could back up to the gloryhole.

Into 2014

Like 2013, I will be traveling extensively and hoping for new asses to breed. Don’t worry, I’m not going bottom on anyone. But I’ll probably supplement my load counts with loads in my ass with the truly versatiles out there — not that there are many available.

I’d like to see my numbers grow this year, although let’s face it — I’m no spring chicken. At 46, a lot of the younger bucks run away and the old farts (like me) are chasing young bucks.

What’s your #LoadCount? Tweet me st @iblastinside or comment here.

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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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