Thursday, December 31, 2015


So, I was reading HiredStud's answers to the questions from his readers and one I thought was interesting.  The reader asked what decade would you like to have been born in, or grew up in or something to that effect...  And I think what I find interesting about it is that the instinct is to name something in the past.  But what about the future?  Or the present.  I think my answer would be that I'd like to be a millennial. Just because I've stared blankly at some kids in the face and said simply, "I don't get it."  And also because we live in some interesting times and I kinda wonder how the younger generation navigates it.  Not some nostalgic ponderings on youth culture, or the "You're so lucky that things are like x y and z nowadays" but more the fact that I'm admitting some things are severely fucked up and it must really, really suck.

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Me time/us time

So let me say this: using Twitter, tumblr and blogs as a hookup tool is pretty ineffective. Grindr and those other proximity apps use one thing to grease the wheels: geographical desirability. I've had a couple guys hit me up on tumblr and they always seem to dodge me when it comes to setting up a time and location. Then just last month, I set up a really long layover in Phoenix to meet a Twitter follower and then I got there he just went to radio silence. Not a problem because I worked the whole fresh meat angle and let up with some nice folks... And I also got time to spend doing the stuff that I like to do. With all the traveling, I wasn't able to sign up for any sports leagues like I usually do. Don't go to concerts cause I'm not sure where I'll be half the time. I became a boring guy.

So in Phoenix, I had a whole day off to just do whatever. Went to the botanical gardens. Went to the contemporary art museum. Bummed I couldn't get tickets for the night show at the gardens but I did go to this nice restaurant that had good reviews on Yelp.

When I get home, my partner echoed some of the same sentiments that I had about my job. He's a lot more perceptive than I give him credit for. I guess when you live with a guy for fifteen years, you know what's up without asking.

So we decided to be more conscientious about spending more time doing the stuff we like to do together. Unfortunately, that doesn't include me watching him fuck the living day lights out of bottom... Yet...

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Warped memory

We've played maybe five times over the course of 15 years and the funny thing is... I always have a distinct memory of that swirl of hair in the middle of his chest. But I also always think of him as hairier than he actually is.


I can't tell if the lens of time refracts history with greater clarity or renders it unintelligible from truth

Monday, December 28, 2015

Trucker kid/cub

Still can't believe how young this trucker kid is...
That's us in the back of his cab...


I've been sexually active since 14, which is well over twenty years ago. But the first time I had a guy cum down my throat was in college. These days, he'd be described as an otter. Italian. Hairy (which was quite rare in those days). And a thick nine inch cock that I barely knew what to do with. I wasn't even sure if he was digging it until I felt the pulse of his cock. His balls drew up in my hand and then that pulse where his cock stiffens even more and makes me gag as my throat is coated with his spunk. Pulse after pulse, he shot a huge load. More than I could keep up with. Maybe it's because he's the first to shoot down my throat like that but I haven't quite felt anything like it since... Despite many years of experience.

Sunday, December 27, 2015


I'm kinda surprised how muscular some people are. I mean, this guy looks beefy muscular in the pic but in real life, holy crap. I think he's leaner now. His legs are so lean I can feel the muscles expand and contract just millimeters underneath. And his crazy wingspan and those lats, those muscles toward that back underneath the armpits. Crap. He could easily crush me in a bear hug. And there's something incredibly hot about a guy like that totally going weak kneed crazy as I fuck him.

Saturday, December 26, 2015


I finally got it. He told me he had a paper due for class tomorrow but he wasn't concerned. Beautiful cub in his mid twenties, hairy all over.

I'm driving him back to his apartment after a couple hours where we tried to fuck but couldn't make it work out. He's really tight. And also high on meth. He told me in embarrassment to explain why he couldn't get hard. And it made sense because he kept on making noises with his mouth which I'm pretty sure was dry mouth. His mind was sharp though. He only lost one conversation thread momentarily but you wouldn't be able to tell otherwise.

"God, I'm sorry for this cluster fuck of an experience. I really need to stop. I've been doing it a lot more than I should."

He went on. And I don't remember the exact words but what I kept was the bare raw emotion of regret and remorse.

And I finally connected the dots to why he wasn't so stressed out about school. He was a Berkeley student. Got kicked out. I have a feeling it is somehow related to his drug use. And then enrolled in a community college down here in Southern California. He's basically just running at half capacity. He can ace these courses in his sleep (no offense to the JC system - I'm really not being elitist here). And during the idle time, he turns to old habits.

And that's where I'm frustrated. A beautiful mind. Sharp and so full of promise and he's fucking up and only living to half of his potential. Wasn't frustrated about the bad sex. Even in comparison to our first encounter where he wasn't high and even he admitted he's never shot so hard bottoming before. It wasn't the sex but about him. A beautiful guy all around. And I know as sincere as he is during this confession of contrition, how raw and bare that emotion is before me, I know it's gonna be as if it never happened once his body levels out and that allure of the high gets him again. What frustrates me is that he's so beautiful all around and he feels that need for change but I have a feeling we're gonna be in the exact same place in a couple of days, running on a treadmill when he just needs to round the corner.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Bi guys...

Okay, so I get a little defensive and then the eyes start to roll when I see personals ads or app profiles from guys looking to suck off straight guys or from guys that claim to be straight. It just seems to perpetuate internalized homophobia by idealizing heteronormative conventions. Though, top/bottom doesn't bother me because I think everyone is vers to a degree and they're just trying to shortcut sexual compatibility.

But at the same time, I met up with this married guy off of Growlr. He's married to a woman but they have an open relationship and I have to say, there's something about him that made him a little exotic and kinda turned me on. It's that slight difference in lexicon, frame of reference and overall vibe from being socialized gay and just sexually gay. Does that make sense? He says "dude" a lot and he's in his forties but it's not the surfer "dude" nor the "dude" of a guy trying to reclaim youth by adopting the perceived vocabulary of a younger generation. It was a purely legit and natural "dude." Like, I held his face in my hands and stared him in the eyes and quite earnestly said, "Holy fuck, you're hot" to which he replied with a beaming smile, a bit of a chuckle, "Thanks, dude. You're really cute, too." And a hint of a lisp. Just boyish charm being caught off guard that struck me as something kinda straight-ish. And for some reason that irks me. And it irks me that I'm attracted to him for that slight difference that I can't put my finger on.

And these pics don't do him justice. He's a complete beefcake. I mean, I was mesmerized watching his shoulder muscles, the delts and the traps, expand and contract as I sat back and watched his whole body exert itself so that he could bob on my knob. And you gotta love a fat, thick uncut cock that is rock hard while he's servicing a guy.


He's a leather guy. A switch, maybe, but usually the dom role as, according to him, they're in short supply in San Francisco. Just a quickie nooner, but he was still profusely spewing accolades afterwards of my talents in such a way that made me kinda swagger for the next few hours until he replenished my pumped ego with further compliments over text, contributing to my little strut for a few hours more. It wasn't me. It was just good sexual chemistry. The kind that echoes over and over in your mind to the point where you're not sure if it was real anymore. Did that really just happen or did time feather the rough edges into fantasy? So you reach out to the other guy that was there to confirm.

And for me, I recall that one moment where I was mid-stride in an animalistic frenzy ripping off his clothes, pawing and pinching and grabbing when I got to his shoes and tried to undo the laces. I couldn't. Grunting in frustration, I took a closer look and paused. The laces of his beat-up red hightop Chucks didn't crisscross in a regular pattern but instead were a chaos of knots pulling and straining against each other as you work your way up the ladder of grommet holes, viscerally beautiful and completely appropriate for him. But the moment passed and I grabbed him by the neck and growled, "Get your shoes off, boy." And the look of complete adoration in his eyes as he croaked out a "Yes, sir" in turn made me rock hard. The crisscross of a simple exchange that worked my stomach to knots.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015


I was kinda horrified when I realized that I misunderstood what the 19 year-old kid was trying to intimate when he said he wanted to try sucking cock.  I figured he meant that he's fucked around with guys before but just has never sucked anyone.  That wasn't the case.  He's never even kissed anyone.  Guy nor girl.  His answer to what he was into was just a bundle of nervous questions.  He simply didn't know.

He and I had a little circle jerk with another dude, which he sucked for a couple of seconds before stopping because the lube made things taste bad.  And all he could do was ask in earnest, "Am I doing it right?"

I just felt bad that his first time of any sort of sexual contact was with a bunch of craigslist strangers.  So I kept in touch and next time I was in town we got together.  Lots of making out, body contact, led him gently to explore.  We spent a couple hours together as I tried to figure out what he wanted to do without asking him.  Just a silent conversation between our bodies.  And I ended up making him want my cock up his ass and dumped my load up there.  And honestly, the irony about the responsibility totally didn't occur to me until he, quite tentatively, asked me over email if he should get tested.  Oh boy.  I sent him a long email back with rants about how he should never be ashamed to get tested nor afraid to ask and how not to fall into the trap of using testing habits as a proxy gauge of promiscuity.

Then we talked about he hasn't once had an orgasm with me.  Easy to trigger one on his own manually but with me, for some reason he can't in my presence.  So I thought maybe he's just not really a bottom.  Next time in town, I tested that theory and nope.  He's not a top.  It wasn't just the inexperience.  It was more than that.  He's gonna disappoint quite a few bottoms too because he has a massive eight-plus inch rod.

I still feel, for some reason, as if I owe him this one thing: to find out what makes him cum.  But I think if you ask him, he'd say that I didn't owe him anything.  And that simply talking openly and honestly was exactly just what he needed.


In case you're wondering what the dirty daddy is packing...

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Blogging is weird

Well, blogging about your hookups is weird, at least.  I mean, I didn't get it earlier when CoolTop and I chatted about it but you do develop this thing where you're hooking up to blog about it as well as hooking up to have fun.  And then you start to wonder how much you're doing it for the culture which you're blogging about as much as yourself.  It's subtle, but it's there.  Like you get frustrated on a hookup app and then you take a screenshot of the conversation so that you can later come back to it and blog about it.  It goes beyond the natural boasting and sharing among a small group of friends.  Sorta like the cultural anthropologist's dilemma.  How do you get close enough to your subjects without interfering and changing the culture you're trying to observe.  But, oddly, the subject here is your own authentic voice.

Monday, December 21, 2015


I love fucking a bigger guy...
And then flipping him over and fucking the cum out of him...

Random thought

So back in high school I used to run around the hiking trails in woodland fatigues with throwing knives because I had masculinity issues. Now the only daggers I throw are letters assembled into strings of sarcasm aimed at coworkers in chat bubbles while wearing neatly pressed slacks and a slim fit color-blocked shirt that echoes the indigo hue of my wing tips... And I'm completely fine with that.

Okay, I'll bite

I'm not a fan of leaving marks. Maybe it's the cheater aspect and I wouldn't want someone to give me a hickey or whatever. But after making the obligatory innuendo from the term "bite-sized chunks" from my last post I was reminded of this, which happened last week... The top is my handiwork while the bottom was apparently from some pup-play activity. Still not a fan of marks but still a big fan of driving my bottom buds wild, whatever it takes...

Friday, December 18, 2015


I'm still around...

The long periods between blog posts were actually because I was busy gettin' busy.  Increased travel schedule, meaning more time in airport hotels, meaning more time fucking around with my fellow travelers.  Probably one of the reasons why guys started blurring together.  But the travels also affected my relationship with my partner and my friends so I've just been spending most of my time back home with friends and family instead of on the computer rehashing what a dirty whore I've been.  Ha!  Not really wearing that badge with shame nor pride.  Just a fact.  Fucking around with thirty guys in thirty days...  kinda qualifies in the whore category, right?  Ha!

Think the blog is gonna change in the upcoming months.  I still need an outlet for this one side of me.  Not sure how it's gonna change.  Just probably going to be more fragmented thoughts than stories. Bite-sized chunks.

Hope you guys are gonna continue the ride with me!