tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87730999421565003402024-03-13T14:14:49.656-07:00Another Cheatin' TopBrucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.comBlogger333125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-58916385090800256862022-12-13T05:00:00.001-08:002022-12-13T05:00:00.170-08:00Being a Good Boy<p><i>I asked Andrew to write up our meeting in his own words. This is what he sent:</i></p><p>I have always been more into written porn that visual images, and had been an avid reader of his blog for years. I was such a fan that at one point he had announced on his blog that he was getting new underwear and he was kind enough to send me his used underwear, since it's a fetish of mine. </p><p>When he moved to twitter (and the blog was more sparsely populated) I saw evidence of his skills there. For me, his best writing is rewarding eagerness. </p><p>I was very excited at the prospect of meeting him, and an opportunity arose when I had to travel for work to near where he lives. I contacted him, and we shared pics, and he said he was interested to meet me. I have to admit that I did entice him with my fantasy of being bred, since I’ve always had protected sex and am not on prep. He gently tried to persuade me, but given monkeypox concerns I decided not to take him bare this time. </p><p>I had initially messed up the agreed meeting time, but was fortunate that he was able to make time to meet me. We discussed our interests prior to meeting, which is something I enjoy and helps build up to the event. In particular I told him about new cobra chastity cage that I had been enjoy. Once he knew about it he initially said that he wanted me to wear it for 5 days continuously before we meet, but I felt that would be too much of a challenge since I’d never worn it for more than a few hours, but it did prompt me to get a new ring that made it more comfortable. I ended up wearing cage for two nights in bed before we met. On the night prior to our meet, I could hardly sleep thinking of the upcoming event. In particular I was curious as to how much he would try to persuade me to have him fuck me bare, and bred me, and how much I would be able to resist. I did offer to eat his load which he gladly accepted. </p><p>In preparation he also instructed me to put a dildo in my tight hole, keep it for hours, stretching my hole to make it easier for him to fuck me. He asked if i was meeting anyone else on my trip, and I did admit to having a prior appointment with another guy. He told me the only time I was allowed to cum was with this guy, or with him. </p><p>On the day of the meet he instructed me not to use deodorant, clean out my hole, wear my leather jock, chastity, and harness. Prior to his arrival he also told me to not touch either his or my cock without his permission. When he entered the room I should have my head down, hands behind my back. A last minute instruction was that when he told me to present my ass to him, I was to go head down, ass up and spread my cheeks to show him my hole. Just writing that again makes my cock get rock hard. </p><p>He knocked at the door and I let him in. He immediately started kissing me and pushing me against the door, I was shivering from sexual anxiety. Next he undressed himself, down to underwear and we continued to play. Next he put me on my knees and told me to mouth his big cock in his sexy underwear. That moved to me sucking him, being face-fucked by his long thick cock and retching, which he seemed to particular enjoy. Then he told me to assume the position: my head down, ass up, spread hole open. It was very erotic, opening myself to him. And he is a connoisseur at eating ass. </p><p>Next he moved to fuck me, with me on my front, warming up my ass with his bare cock, then put a condom on, lots of lube, some fingers, and slow gentle entry. I occasionally took poppers to open up for him. Eventually he lay on top of me and fucked me hard and deep, nearly taking his cock out of my now open hole. Piston fucking at its best, I was sweating like a pig under him, despite the cool AC. Then he turned my over and fucked me on my back, where I got to see his handsome face, awesome smile and kiss him. </p><p>Next he made me undress, was fascinated to take off my cage, and we showered together. Then we went back to bed, for lots of kissing. Having read his blog, I knew that he’d very occasionally been fucked before, so I asked if I could eat his hole – wanting to return the favour that he had given me. He also wanted me to eat his cum. So he gave me clear coaching about how he liked his ass eaten, and eventually turned around blew his big load on my face. He then went down and sucked me off, since I was close to the edge, I came within seconds. Just before and after I cum, a spot on the head of my penis gets super-sensitive, so I had to ask him to let it go immediately afterwards. </p><p>Afterwards he sent me pics, and videos that he had taken. I complemented him on his great smile, something that I couldn’t see from his pics or videos, and his very considerate nature. He told me how hot I looked, which makes me feel uncomfortable with my dad bod.</p>Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-52272789953578793832022-12-06T05:00:00.001-08:002022-12-06T05:00:00.181-08:00Good Boy<p>I walk in and unexpectedly drop a canvas bag full of sex toys, poppers, restraints and nipple torture devices. Andrew had opened the door and taken a step back, taking a glance at me before remembering my instructions and averted his eyes to the floor, shuffled his feet to stabilize his stance, shoulder width apart and let his head sag to the floor. I couldn’t help it. He’s quite a beauty and I was compelled to drop the bag and get my hands on him as fast as I could. </p><p>"Do you approve, sir?" he asks.</p><p>My lips curl up in a smile in a response that I try to suppress. He’s a smaller guy. Gloriously furry all over. Scruffy beard, hairy chest, fuzz on his shoulders and all the way down. Various shades of grey from head to toe. Naked aside from a bulldog harness and leather jock - exactly as I had instructed. It’s a total power play, asking a guy to be vulnernable and naked while I’m completely dressed. Something I thought he’d enjoy having contacted me on twitter to meet up. He’s been a fan of my blog for awhile and really loved my stories, especially the one with a hint of a BDSM element to it. Work was bringing him to LA and he wanted to meet.</p><p>I rarely seek out kink scenes. Honestly, I get a little intimidated by guys that are really into it. Also, the fact that some things really turn me on confuses me. I’m usually the guy that gives the shirt off his back for a friend so when I get a hard on seeing a guy bound and squirming on the floor, it freaks me out. When I get harder hearing a guy gag after he tells me he wants me to rape his throat, I get scared. Not to say I’m a novice. A cop once told me I should charge for my services as a Dom after I pissed all over him and savagely fucked my load into him while pulling him by the hair into the fuck. Bondage, fisting, piss play, flogging. I’ve been around the block a couple of times. It’s just that if someone asks me to let go and give into those tendencies, I’m not sure if I can come back from it if requested. So when Andrew asked for a kink scene, I probed a bit further and realized that he had a strong need to please but that need may interfere with some of the limits he had.</p><p>I play into that need to please in my response to the question he asked softly to the floor. "Yes. Approved. Good boy!"</p><p>And with that, I swoop him into my arms and pull his head back so that our lips meet. I want him to feel how much I approve by my urgent, deep kiss. I bend at the knees and hug him close, lifting him off his feet so that I can carry him and slam him against the wall. Fuck, I love playing with a smaller guy that’s so willing to give up control. I press into him and pin him to the wall as I force my tongue down his throat. </p><p>"I’m a bit nervous, sir" he tells me as my one hand roams his body. The other hand holds his over his head with our fingers interlaced. He’s not kidding. His body is trembling. And as my roaming hand tries to settle his nerves, it instead makes him convulse as it finds sensitive areas all over his body.</p><p>He shudders when I nibble at his ears and whisper how he’s such a good boy. My lips barely move next to his ear when I tell him to give in to his nerves and just feel. His neck is sensitive. That or he’s afraid I’ll leave marks. I work my way to his pits and scrape my scruff in there to see how sensitive it is. Then I drink in his musk and feast in his pits as he whines.</p><p>My hips instinctively thrusts up into him even though I’m fully clothed. And even through the clothes I can feel the cock cage that he’s wearing underneath that leather jock. Another power play. I asked him to wear it for as long as he could comfortably do so in order to get himself into the sub mindset. I pull back and openly smile when I feel it. My slobber starts to run down his pits almost guiding me to move lower. I dive back down to take a nipple in my mouth, tonguing it roughly before pushing it against my upper teeth. I feel him flinch and shudder whenever I apply extra pressure before releasing it back to just the tongue, flicking at the nub. I finally abandon the tongue and suck on the nip until I can grab the base with my teeth and gradually apply more pressure. His legs tremble as I do. He vocalizes his pain and pleasure with increasing volume. I feel like he’s hitting his limit when I hear him gasp "Too much, sir!" I just tell him with his nipple still between my teeth, "A little more, boy. Good boy! Good boy!" And then I release. When I massage the nipple with my tongue to give it some relief, he moans with relief and thanks me over and over.</p><p>I’m raging hard at this point and I step back and unbuckle my jeans. My cock obscenely pulses against my undies as he drops to the floor and mouthes the mound. He audibly moans when he tastes the precum that has stained by undies from my lust as I was devouring him. I need his throat. Now. I vehemently thrash with the waistband to pull them down and shove his head in my crotch. He teases me with a few licks along the shaft before he tentatively swallows me down, taking me further and further down with each bob. I find the depth of his throat, the spot that will trigger the gag reflex and encourage him to take me in further with slight pressure on the back of his head. A little more and a little more. And then with one shove I push past the spot so that he takes me to the base as his body rejects me and he gags. He pulls off and I wait to see what he does next. Even as he’s trying to recover, he starts to go back down and my cock pulses. It’s that validation that I’ve got the right guy, that eager cocksucker that will take it as much as his body would otherwise resist. The validation that his desire to get used is just as strong as my desire to push him to his limits. I twist my cock just a bit so that his throat can navigate the curve and push it down deep, holding him down with my micro thrusts before letting go and feeling him pull back and gasp. I got even harder. And he could tell.</p><p>“Present your ass to me!” I bark.</p><p>He immediately gets on the bed, ass up, head on the mattress with his hands spreading his ass wide for me. Love a boy that follows directions well. I had previously coached him over email what to do when I bark those orders. Those hairy mounds were too enticing and I ditched the rest of my clothes and dove head first into those hairy mounds. My tongue swirls around his hole and my hands roam his hairy mounds and back. Probes around and into his hole, willing it to yield to more and more. I’ve worked it in so deep that I can’t breathe, only pulling back for a huge intake of air when I direly need it. And I slowly dive back in, letting him feel my scruff against his cheeks, the hot breath against his hole. My lips seal around his hole and I suck until I feel his ass pucker and then I dart my tongue in, feeling it flower open.</p><p>He’s ready. I bag it and lube it up and mount him. Easing it into his tight hole pushing in and retreating until I finally feel him yield. When I finally feel his body yield to the head of my cock, I apply even, steady pressure until I sink to the root. Probably a little too fast, but I couldn’t help it. I collapsed onto his back finally feeling what my body was insisting upon but I held at bay until he could adjust. That feeling of us totally and deeply interconnected.</p><p>We fucked for quite awhile before I threw him on his back and invaded his hole again. Pummeling his ass relentlessly. We went well past the hour mark of play before my hand was wrapped around his throat and I could see him grimacing with every thrust. Every withdrawal had his eyebrows turn up in a plea. That torture of desire placed right against the pain of being invaded past the depths you could imagine in a cycle over and over. I could tell he was wrestling with his need to please and his limits and am amazed that he was able to endure for so long. </p><p>We came while he was eating my ass and I teased his cock after freeing it out of the cage, sharing the precum that coated the device. He was ready to blow at any moment. I shot all over his face before I blew him and took his load deep down my throat. We make out to swap our intermingled loads. As we lay there panting from the long, extended session, I was content, even though none of the accessories were retrieved from the bag.</p><p>I was completely spent.</p><p>Good boy, indeed.</p>Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-88725893508647659122022-02-14T08:26:00.004-08:002022-02-14T08:26:52.910-08:00Sights Through the Fog<p>We’ve settled into a rhythm. The intermittent spurts of fumbling flesh crashing in disjointed movements evened out to gentle melodic waves, frequencies that once fought against each other now harmonize in synchrony. The crest of silence as I’m almost fully withdrawn from his hole, stopped by his tight ring meeting the ridge of my swollen cock head. Then then subsequent build of our low moans while I drive my inches back in with slow and steady pressure. And the trough of the wave when I bottom out deep inside his guts with a thud before the cycle repeats. The previous haze of fervent grappling and limbs lifts as the rhythm presents itself and with clarity, I see him. The young cub, many years my junior on his back. My left hand holds his right ankle firmly. My right hand matches the grip but of his monster of a cock, fat and heavy. Our movements has made him fuck my hand in tandem and I’m acutely aware of the supple layer I touch that glides so easily over the hard iron surface of his sex like liquefaction. His eyebrows furrow into a concentrated question as if he wants to ask how I’ve managed to torture his body into pleasure. The septum piercing and scruff antagonizes his cherubic countenance, topped with hair that curls into sweet innocence. He ovals his full lips to let out a long breath, countered by a long inhale that visibly fills his diaphragm as he tries to even out his labored breathing and accept more of my fuck. And we settle further into the rhythm as the lens refracts and I see more. The hair that evenly coats his entire chest and the faint perspiration that is threatening to bead from our exertions. The shapely calf that bulges into beautiful strength right by my hand. The lens pans out more as the lust fog lifts and the beauty he exudes extends to the room with tastefully soft colors and textures of accent pillows, rugs and furnishings. Modern monochrome is punctuated with whispers of vivid color. The large window that lets in the lazy winter morning light, modestly complementing the suddenly clarity of my gaze with the understated glamour of an infinitely sprawling Los Angeles.</p><p>I’m not surprised by the previous fervor that clouded my vision until now. This meeting was three years in the making. He was an earnest 18 living in Miami when he first reached out. Flirtatious spurts of correspondence interspersed with the stress of life, Covid and a cross-country move almost disguised the chemistry with the languid evolution of our check ins. The fire was there though. And when we finally met I couldn’t help but fumble when the flood gates opened. The reality of glasses and clothes were a nuisance in finally getting my paws on him. But as the burst of raw energy finally settled into this rhythm of fucking, I see him. His youth belies his sexual experience and recollecting his shy confession of his love for inter generational sex, I bark out, “That’s it… son. Daddy’s been waiting so long for this. Just let go. I’ve got ya.” And with that, I could feel him relinquish control to the moment and he immediately erupted. The climax built up quickly and suddenly. The first stream of cum jets out violently in a long rope that hit the pillow and slashes across his eye. A quick readjustment from my grip and the second spurt rushes out and hung in the air for a second before gravity claims control and splatters it across the fuzz of his chest. Third and fourth streaks out over the sheets before the subsequent ones dribble over my knuckles and soak his belly and mat his pubes. </p><p>I can't stop. I continue to pummel his ass while he convulses and rides his orgasm. He squirms as his body is awakened to every sensation in a sudden boldness. My body speeds up to a terrifying pace until his still spasming ass milks my cock and robs me of my load and I crash into his body one last time, planting my seed deep inside him, collapsed</p><p>As I struggle once again with unsynchronized limbs that do not wish to obey with grace, I try to prop myself up. Bodies still connected. I slowly wipe cum from his eye, careful not to get any in. For a brief moment, I see my younger self in him and I wrestle with wanting to just hold him to me to let him feel my warmth and to flip him over and attack his hole with my tongue and felch out my own load. Both seem condescendingly inappropriate. Wanting to neither express diminutives or objectify him or his youth, I instead awkwardly vocalize disjointed thoughts about my love of our newly shared home city all the while thinking that I really do see him deeply even as my turgid member wanes and withdraws.</p><p></p><p></p>Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-15172105535733292982020-04-13T07:23:00.000-07:002020-04-13T20:07:08.832-07:00Night at the Baths: The LoadBrief intro: I was on vacation in Puerto Vallarta for Beef Dip, a week dedicated to the thick boys and their admirers, and was staying a couple blocks away from the local bathhouse. One of those nights, I snuck out at 3am (the bars don't really close over there) and had a few experiences I wanted to share. Little vignettes. Fleeting flirtatious kisses in the dark. Snapshots, but in a lot less than a thousand words.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
I somehow extract myself from the dark room. My cock is spent. I haven't dropped a load in anyone yet, but came close so many times that the little guy doesn't know what to do anymore. It’s tired of being teased.<br />
<br />
As I stumbled out, a towel in hand (I'm not even sure it's my towel, but regardless) I see a mountain of a man in a jock on all fours. He's on the edge of the platform right out side the dark area. He's all man. And huge. It's like you take the average gym guy and magnified him one a half times. Thick, but proportionate and a good foot taller than me. With his high and tight, he's the live form of an obscene caricature version of a Tom of Finland caricature. Yes, an exaggerated caricature of an already exaggerated caricature. He's that one percent of everything that you're amazed that you met in real life.<br />
<br />
So I do what anyone would do. I drop to my knees and worship that glorious fuzzy ginger ass in front of me and my dick is insistent that it's gonna cum this time. I spend long minutes tasting him, running my tongue from his balls to the top of his hole. Poking, twirling. Drawing a crowd of men at this point that start encouraging me to go deeper. Another guy, the opposite of the ginger god gets on all fours beside him. This one is darker haired, shorter, tan, wearing a harness. The contrast between the two of them side by side is glorious. Another bloke saddles up and starts eating him out too, but I continue with my guy, broad lapping strokes until he's primed for fucking.<br />
<br />
I get up. Eager to get inside him, but there a problem. Unless there's a long runway and a mini-trampoline spring board at the end of it, there's no way I can vault myself onto this giant slab of beef.<br />
<br />
The ginger looks back at me with an expressionless face. I can't tell if it's encouragement or impatience, if he wants to continue or if he's sizing me up and wanting to pass. So I weigh my options: either try to wrestle a guy thrice my body size off the platform to the right position so I can fuck or let another guy from the crowd fuck. I got with the latter and motion for the tallest guy to move in for the kill. He's over six feet and the parts will all line up with him. He's a muscular black guy with an impressive cock that I guide to the hole.<br />
<br />
As they start fucking, I move over to the harness guy next to him. The rimmer has since moved on and has left him sopping wet. Take one last glance over to the boys next to me to make sure they're having fun. I lock eyes with the other top and then just glide my raging dick in the boy. No extra lube necessary. The previous rimmer was obviously an ass connoisseur.<br />
<br />
My cock revels in the sensation. It knows this is the one. The perfect hole that it can unload into as the hole grips the whole shaft with an inviting warmth. Long deep strokes all the way in and all the way out. I want to feel the resistance as my cock invades his channel, that momentary restriction before it yields and invites me in. And as my cock grows that extra length from the velvet touch of his insides, it explores new depths. I hit bottom, hold, and push deeper still. Gyrating my hips to explore the walls. Undulating my body to feel the depths. I use the boy's harness to pull him deeper still and I feel myself pushing through the second wall that makes me deeply moan in contentment while the boy yelps with surprise. I found the spot that I want and I use his harness to destroy it, use that extra leverage to savagely poke at it. a tempo that builds and builds. The switch has flipped and I no longer feel a need to languidly explore the depths of his body but instead feel the need to fire my load immediately. My body becomes focused on the one goal: to breed his cunt deep, shoot my load into the inner recesses so that it gets absorbed and doesn't leak out. With a roar, my dick surges with an extra pulse and releases the pent up load that's been building for hours. My body involuntarily stabs his guts a few extra times to make sure it's buried deep and then I collapse on his back. I let the orgasm wash over me as I convulse and spasm uncontrollably.<br />
<br />
Cheek to his back, my eyes regain focus and I'm staring directly at the ginger god. He's sneering at me with disdain. I know what he's thinking: that should have been his load. Meanwhile, the harness kid reaches back and interlaces our fingers with a contented sigh and whispers, "Thank you."<br />
<br />Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-69281961614918799532020-04-11T10:10:00.000-07:002020-04-11T10:10:10.447-07:00Night at the Baths: DarknessBrief intro: I was on vacation in Puerto Vallarta for Beef Dip, a week dedicated to the thick boys and their admirers, and was staying a couple blocks away from the local bathhouse. One of those nights, I snuck out at 3am (the bars don't really close over there) and had a few experiences I wanted to share. Little vignettes. Fleeting flirtatious kisses in the dark. Snapshots, but in a lot less than a thousand words.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
"Vente."<br />
<br />
For a microsecond, I struggle to conjure up collegiate memories to translate Spanish to English to fully understand. I have four languages rattling in my brain including English, none of which I know very well. It's odd but with my parents' native tongue, I go directly from spoken word to comprehension but for the others, they have to take a pitstop to English before my brain absorbs meaning.<br />
<br />
That microsecond hesitation is not lost on him and he chuckles and reaches out for my hand. Come. It is such a basic word but honestly, despite being in Mexico, I heard just a spattering of Spanish here so I was caught off guard.<br />
<br />
I'm literally contemplating my absurd, disrespectful attitude and expectation as his hand is just dangling there, waiting for me to shit or get off the pot. He has the advantage. He's in the blackout room and I'm standing in the entrance bathed in a dim red light. My eyes haven't adjusted yet and under different circumstances, I'd yell, "Oh no you don't, Pennywise!" Then I'd run for the hills, especially if the only part I can see is his arm. Forget it if he's holding out a red balloon.<br />
<br />
But as absurd as it sounds, the disembodied voice beckoning me and mocking me for my hesitation is rather alluring. It's the stream of half naked men that are brushing by, entering or leaving the blackout room. And the occasional moans. And the slurps. And then rhythmic sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Most of the men leaving are drenched in sweat. Some of them don't even bother covering up with their towels, their spent cocks dripping or still proudly erect leading the way out in search of more bodies to conquer, their asses still sloppy from sloppy spit lube and cum. It's a good crowd, a good mix. Svelte figures brush by to enter into the dark depths. Beefy men. Tall and short. Harnesses on some and other shy types sporting briefs.<br />
<br />
I take his hand and he leads me into the darkness that swallows us. The darkness that shrouds is immediate, a heavy blanket tucked in. It's the weight of the air of the confined space. Bodies writhing and deep breathing all trapped by the dense black, like a stopper on a chemical beaker trapping the fumes of the sex within, the weighted top of the elixir from desire decanted. Whereas the rest of the bathhouse is rather pedestrian in comparison, the dark is the catalyst that sparks inert bodies into action and the byproduct of this kinetic reaction is that heavy air that hugs me. It's palpable.<br />
<br />
With complete, immediate trust, I shuffle in and accept my guide's hand further into the depths. Without them touching me, I can feel bodies all around but I'm expertly navigated through the maze of flesh until he finds a suitable spot. And with just a short pause, I close the gap between us, pull him in a deep embrace and kiss him deep. There's no grace, no subtlety. It's just pure need and lust bleeding onto me from the surrounding energy. We're exactly the same height so the move is easy and natural. Just two magnetized puzzle pieces fitting snugly and electrically bonded.<br />
<br />
I feel the warmth of his hand behind my neck spread through me and he pulls me in deeper, closer. My hands roam the wide expanse of his back before using my fingers to press into the muscles that straddle his spine, walking my finger tips up and in, hitting the pressure points that make him break from the kiss and throw his head back in a sigh. I use the moment to devour his neck, kissing, licking, and then chewing on him, as I feel his body give way and go limp in my arms. My tongue tracing the fibers of his sinewy muscles, memorizing the valleys, finding the pulsing arteries and veins in between.<br />
<br />
I continue to explore. My nose nuzzles the valley above his collarbone before descending over to the right to breath in his scent from his pits. Then down to where his bath towel is loosely tied around his waist. I vigorously shake my head to bury my nose under the terrycloth and the mere move makes it drop away and expose his rigid inches that spring and bounce in front of my face. One more quick inhale to breathe more of him in and I engulf his cock with my mouth in one swoop. I can feel his foreskin glide with my movements, a pliant sheath that shimmies over his rigidity. I don't spend much time feeling his meat ooze juices before I lap at his balls. My attempts to tongue his taint are frustrated until I grab his hips and spin him around. He naturally braces himself against the wall with two palms as I tongue it and then move up to his hole.<br />
<br />
And this is where I lose the guise of will and self-determination. My nose is nestled between two perfect mounds of flesh as I drink in the scents of masculinity and sex. My tongue snakes out and I taste it. Other men. Other men have salivated over this hole, other men have shot their load inside, other men have sweat over him. There are other men. And that taste that jolts that revelation shocks and attracts me. I can't get enough of it. My tongue probes and digs for more. Whereas before we were having a personal conversation with our bodies in the context of others, the others have now pulled me, dominated my senses, amassed me into their collective and I completely surrendered. I suddenly felt the other hands that were there all along, roaming my body, pushing my head deeper into his ass. Intoxicated, I surrendered to the will of the darkness and I am no longer my own.<br />
<br />
Pieces and fragments.<br />
<br />
I fucked him. I remembered how my balls ached to shoot the moment I hit bottom, but I don't remember fucking him. I sucked other cocks, but I don't remember sucking them. I remember someone shoving into my ass while I was fucking, the searing invasion shooting up my ass and through me, surging my dick deeper into the bottom so that he yelped for me. I remember two mouths on my wired nips and my knees buckling, collapsing my body into the arms of another. I remember not saying a thing but through the collective mind a new language formed so that everyone knew exactly what buttons to push, what knobs to turn so that my cock just constantly dripped precum. More puzzle pieces snapped into place into a shifting canvas of intricate black.<br />
<br />
No, it wasn't everyone. It was the one. The darkness. The catalyst that melded as I dissolved into the oceanic lust.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-71342081817154228492020-04-09T10:22:00.002-07:002020-04-09T10:22:29.260-07:00Night at the Baths: MaskingBrief intro: I was on vacation in Puerto Vallarta for Beef Dip, a week dedicated to the thick boys and their admirers, and was staying a couple blocks away from the local bathhouse. One of those nights, I snuck out at 3am (the bars don't really close over there) and had a few experiences I wanted to share. Little vignettes. Fleeting flirtatious kisses in the dark. Snapshots, but in a lot less than a thousand words.<br />
<br />
Years ago, I worked closely with a graphic designer and he was a master at masking. He had a great eye for compelling images and would take a really busy photograph with tons of elements vying for your eye and attention, plop another canvas on top of it to cover it up entirely, and punch holes to give you little glimpses of the image underneath. You'd marvel at the simplicity of the canvas on top, supple geometric color blocked stencils only to get drawn further into the depths as your eyes tuned into the peekaboo image underneath. It made me think how folks are that way sometimes: a beautifully crafted facade but with windows showing a hint of the complexity underneath. Sometimes, though, it shows a little too much clutter of what's inside.<br />
<br />
I'm at Spartacus, the popular bathhouse in Puerto Vallarta and I'm resting my head against some beautifully fuzzy pecs. The sweat on my body starting to cool off on one side while the rest of me starts to stick to him. The heat from our bodies and our previous exertions vaguely secreting glue that seals us together. I'm idly tracing patterns on his furry coat as my fingers dance over the hills and valleys of his abs. The dude is built like an ox. Shaved head, muscular. He's the one you cast in the porn scene of the daddy ranch hand throwing a twink stable boy over his shoulder to go fuck on a bale of hay.<br />
<br />
The attraction was mutual and immediate. We have rooms right across from each other and we had just left our rooms at the same time, locked up, turned around and locked eyes. That's all it took. I pushed him against the wall next to his door and were fervently making out in seconds. My hands roamed around I couldn't grip a thing due to muscle under my fingers. Fumbled into the room and from the aggressive tussling from both sides, it became apparent that we both preferred the top bunk. I gave bottoming a go, though, even after my jaw dropped when I saw his thick nine inches. I wanted him bad, but after a few minutes being distracted by the noisy bed, the tightness of my hole, and the sweat from our fumbling, we decided to call it quits. Make no mistake, we fucked. He went deep and I'm sure my ass was a ruined, puffy mess, but you know when you're not going to cum and it's just not working out.<br />
<br />
So I'm resting up, waiting for my breathing to even out. My ear is sealed on his chest, idly playing with the fuzz that covers his body, and I can hear his heart thumping as I ask, "So Canada, eh?" I tried to make the question as Canadian as possible but my hearing is all warped from the position I'm in that I can't tell if I was successful.<br />
<br />
"Yes. From Montreal. I just got here today," he says, with an additional French accent twist.<br />
<br />
"There's so many Canadians here this week!"<br />
<br />
"Yes, we are all escaping the winter. I always come this time of year, but not for Beef Dip. It's usually just a coincidence."<br />
<br />
I picked up on his intent. He's generally not into bigger, thicker guys. I've always found the body-positive nature of bear events and how they're kinda having a bit of an en vogue moment attracts a really diverse crowd, though.<br />
<br />
He felt the need to emphasize his meaning.<br />
<br />
"I've gone to the events and parties before," he continues. "But the guys are just so..." And here he scrunches up his face and belts out the next word with such vehemence I'm knocked off his chest. "... ugly!"<br />
<br />
His body is absolute beauty. The smile? Adorable. The French-Canadian accent? Sexy as fuck. The chemistry? Amazing! But when I dug further and he dropped that statement, I started analyzing the details under the masking. I immediately reflected on little things I chose to ignore: how he blamed me for having to stop because I was too tight, how controlling he was in a rather privileged way as a top. And this. And that. I had to get off the bed and back up. I just needed to shake off that word because my thoughts started to turn a bit ugly itself. I was starting to spiral down into judgements that may or may not be accurate. Peeked a little too closely into the fine lines and I needed to step back and admire the overlay. Sometimes it's better to just adjust to the wide angle lens and just soak in the beauty of the totality... or at least just admire from afar.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-29100063011170221242020-01-09T06:42:00.001-08:002020-01-09T06:42:45.377-08:00The vaults of my mindSometimes it feels like I'm extraordinarily sensitive to stimuli. My mind wanders often. Something perceived triggers a memory that pinballs to the next and gets battered around five other memories until I've lost the original launch. No worries as I've racked enough points for a few extra plays and something pulls the trigger to propel a ball to start the cycle anew.
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<br>I'm watching Bombshell, totally along for the ride the writer creates in this disdain for the culture at Fox News when I suddenly realize that I've fucked a TV executive in his office while office drones went about their day around us. I wasn't his employee so there wasn't any quid pro quo elements of abuse in powers, no icky use of leverage to subjugate another aside from the profane obscenities in hushed tones that came out of my mouth as I face-fucked the guy. I was trying my hardest to coat my cock with that deep throat slime so I can ease up his fuck chute with raw cock to deliver a pent up load. We were fuck buds that happened to work right across the street from each other so we met up at his office when the mood struck us and the work was light.
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<br>Then there was that time I fucked the movie exec in his private office during the Christmas lull. Oh and that time I fucked the fireman in the living quarters of the station in the middle of the day. And the time I lured my fuck bud cop to my apartment while he was still working the beat so that I could suck a load out of him while he was still in uniform. I still remember how I was on my knees getting my face pounded and then reaching out to steady myself only to have my hand land on his holster. My hand recoiled quickly as if I touched hot iron. Oh and then there was the time that "straight" investment banker and I met in the stairwell to blow each other...
<br>
<br>What started this chain of thoughts? That's right. Sexual harassment. No, never wielded corporate status to gain sexual favors though I obviously skirted propriety in terms of fucking on the job and at job sites. Honestly, it wasn't even sport fucking, wasn't even trying to get more spaces on the sexual bingo card. Just me connecting with men I liked wherever it may have been.
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<br>And that's when the rollercoaster of emotions wash over me as I go from fondly remembering the encounters to reflecting on why they're just distant a memory in my life. One guy took a promotion in New York, one retired, one I lost touch because I had to move, the other withdrew to try to be more "straight". Such great connections now just a fond memory, a memory that is never mentioned aloud but is locked up in the vaults of my mind. That's where it all ends up. It always flows to that negative space between the two flippers of the pinball machine as a ball rolls through, trapped in the inner thought ramps of storage.
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<br>That is, until some external stimulus drops a credit to free up and launch the ball. But the game is still self-contained in a controlled space off in the corner that nobody really sees.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-87725498493535374982019-12-09T05:56:00.000-08:002019-12-09T05:57:01.368-08:00Because I’m a SlutHere's @kinkyphaguette recounting his version of our meet up. My version in the previous post.
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<br>—————
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<br>I don't think my husband knew I was a slut when he married me. To be fair I hadn't realized it at the time either. When we met I was fresh out of high school, I had all these thoughts about what my future was going to be like and this focus on falling in love. It wasn't until a few years into the relationship that my inner slut was born. Once that happened it was only a matter of time before I cheated. My sex drive was insane, it still is, and as I got older I got kinkier. The man who I fell in love with couldn't keep up. Ironically enough it was my best friend back from high school that convinced me to open my legs for someone other than my husband, for him of course, for the first time and I haven't been able to close them since. But this isn't about the first time I cheated, this is about the most recent time.
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<br>We're on vacation in California, I'm not going to say where and why in the off chance this gets around. The internet is not as private as you'd expect it to be. Of course going to a new place means fresh meat. I had Grindr and Scruff downloaded before we even got on the airplane. I met up with quite a few guys in our week long stay, but my favorite one was a quickie I had on my last day. It was memorable for a few reasons: he had a good dick, knew how to use it, and it was public.
<br>
<br>You see we stayed at an Airbnb located inside an apartment complex. We also joined a few friends who came in from different parts of the US. So my room was crowded and almost always full, no way I could host. But the complex had its own gym, a pool, and a clubhouse, not to mention plenty of hallways and stairwells to sneak off into. The morning of our last day I was horny as fuck. Some people were up and about packing for the return home but my husband was still sleeping. He was up late last night drinking. I knew he'd sleep in and if I said I was going to work out I could slip out and be gone for a bit without any questions. Before I did that however I needed someone to fuck me.
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<br>None of the previous guys I hooked up with this week were around. While I was waiting for a few to get back to me I opened Twitter to look at some porn. That's when I saw a tweet by someone I had been following for a long time. It was a short vid of him breeding some dude that I always wished was me. I went to his page to find more when I noticed he lived in the same area that I was visiting, well more like close enough to it. Fuck man, either way now was my chance! I hit him up, hoping he was online and wanting to play.
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<br>I was surprised that he actually replied kinda quickly. We had the usual conversation of what I'm looking for and what I'm into. He said he had to go to work so it needed to be quick. Quick works for me seeing as my husband could wake up any minute. I told him that and finding out I was cheating seemed to turn him on. If I'm being honest, it's a turn on for me too. I tell him I can host but there's a catch, namely it'll have to be somewhere around the apartment complex because with my friends all slowly waking up and packing I couldn't sneak him in the room. I wanted to though, if they had only left a little bit earlier I would have him fuck me on the couch while my husband slept in the room a few feet away from us. I'd even open the bedroom door.
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<br>Unfortunately I couldn't so I set out to find where I could bend over for this guy. My first stop was the gym, but there was already someone working out. I'm an exhibitionist but I couldn't risk getting reported to the office. However there were bathrooms right next to it. Perfect. Unfortunately in my search for a spot I almost missed him arriving! Luckily I caught him before he gave up and left! He was just as sexy as his Twitter pics and vids. I couldn't wait to worship his cock. I guide him over to the bathrooms, along the way he's grabbing my ass and he's getting me so fucking horny I wanted him to just bend me over in the hallway. He did suggest a stairwell but I knew I was a moaner and I didn't want to have to stay quiet. It was also morning so people were just getting up and heading to work. I don't mind risky sex, but I prefer to keep the odds of interruption manageable. We get to the bathrooms and they're lock. Of course.
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<br>Frustrated I think about where else we can go. Again I briefly entertained the idea of bringing him back to the room. Instead I went looking for the pool, or the clubhouse. One of those places were bound to have bathrooms or maybe a locker room. Turns out the clubhouse did and they were unlocked. Opened the door and it was one of those one stall bathrooms, private and plenty of space. Perfect. The door was barely closed before we started making out and stripping. He was really sexy, a little older than me, about my height, fit twink body type, and asian. I was frustrated, horny, and knew we didn't have a ton of time so while I could have made out with him all day it wasn't long before I went to my knees and started working his cock. He tasted amazing, and smelled good too. I'm not going to lie I do like to sniff a pair of musky balls, but I knew he was heading to work so I could expect him to be freshly showered. Still I enjoyed them.
<br>
<br>I could already tell just but holding his dick he was bigger than my boyfriend. I didn't have to suck long to get him hard, he was already semi walking around, and again I'd have loved to spend longer on that cock but I really really love getting fucked. It seemed like it was only a matter of minutes before we were stripped down and I was on my hands and knees, ass up. Then I finally had what I wanted: his raw cock sliding into me. Every inch felt so good. I wanted him to go as deep as he could. I don't know if he was giving me a few moments to adjust to his size or if he just enjoyed the feeling of my ass gripping his cock but he paused for a few moments before the fucking really began. Every thrust both filled me up and left me wanting more. I moaned and begged for him to fuck me harder. He called me a faggot and pounded me.
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<br>I love dirty talk and he was driving me wild. Calling me a faggot and a cheating slut. Talking about my husband. He was fucking me so hard I couldn't think about anything other than the total ecstasy that was being rammed into my hole. At one point he got the angle just right and without even touching my cock I jizzed all over the bathroom floor. I tightened my hole around his shaft, there was no way I wanted him to stop. But he told me he was getting close, he asked me where I wanted him to cum I told him to breed me. He did. He flooded my hole with his cum.
<br>
<br>After a short recovery we got dressed and left the restroom. Right at that moment an employee of the apartment complex walked right by the bathroom. She seemed very confused to see two men exit the bathroom at the same time. I wondered if she heard us. That thought almost got me in the mood for round two. We started ways and I went back up to my room with his load coating my insides. His cum was still inside me when my husband woke up and added his own to it. I wanted him to eat my ass to see if he could taste the other man's jizzz but he was so horny he just skipped to fucking me. He did comment on how my hole seemed a little loose. Oh well, maybe one day he'll find out he married a slut.
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<br>One thing I know though, is that I hope the next time I'm in California we can meet up again. Now that I've had a taste of that cock, I want more.
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<br>-PhaguetteBrucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-33000632001555281242019-12-02T22:35:00.001-08:002019-12-02T22:35:18.180-08:00On being singled out as a whoreIt's quite brisk out by southern California standards. Halloween is always a tricky time of year where the heat of summer seems to drawl out well past the autumnal equinox without any signs of letting up. You plan a costume that has minimal layers and then suddenly Fall swoops in one night, a sudden brush of a witch's broom that sweeps in an arctic chill.
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<br>But this isn't a story about Halloween. In fact, this happens a couple days after. I'm just noting that I was cold. And agitated.
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<br>I'd been waiting outside of a large condo complex in the chill of the early morning with limited time before I had to go to work, baited there with the promise of a hot ass. The messages that were coming frequently trickled to a standstill and I almost gave up, thinking I had been ghosted when he finally messages me. He's a visiting cub, staying at an airbnb with his husband and all the circumstances should have made me bail long ago. It took him a long time to get back to me. It was cold. We didn't have a place to play. But the scruffy dude with the earnest eyes compelled me. And his lure of a seedy, surreptitious fuck in a semi-public space before sending him back to his slumbering husband knocked up with a strangers load was compelling. No matter how agitated I got, my cock's needs won out. It wanted a hole to pound.
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<br>And patience paid off.
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<br>We are in the bathroom of the community room. His sweatpants hurriedly pulled down to his knees and he's on all fours on the cold tile. He's sweating profusely from running around trying to find me in the massive complex. My hands are still cold. The contrast isn't lost on me when I place my hand on his back, causing him to arch and withdraw from the sting. I want to shove that pretty face down onto the cold tile as payback for making me wait. Instead, I slap my angry, throbbing cock against his pucker with minimal lube and I make him beg for it, beg for the cock he's been wanting. And then I fuck it in.
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<br>"Fuck, yeah! This what you want, you fucking -" and a momentary pause as I push the censors away, push all the training away, the sense of propriety away, push all the reservations and political considerations away... "faggot!"
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<br>"You cheating, faggot slut. This is what you need, huh? Dick constantly in your faggot ass."
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<br>It takes me a bit to go there, but I drew on the humiliation and degradation that he expressed he wanted. I channeled it to personify the guilt of his frequent indiscretions with a hard, angry, hate fuck bathed in a sea of verbal abuse. The response to being singled out as the whore that he is are sharp cries of need, whiny in their affirmations and lathered with lust.
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<br>And I am addicted to that. So much so that it doesn't take me long before his wet, hungry ass steals my load without me wanting to give it up.
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<br>I am in a rush to get out of there and make my way to work, but I let him exit the bathroom first. Take a slight pause to finish washing my hands before I followed suit... and run right into a lady posting up signs in the community. Puzzled look on her face and then it dawns on her.
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<br>She just singled me out as the whore that I am.
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<br>Side note: I asked the guy to write up our encounter and he did! His version of the encounter coming out soon!Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-53546292684112545172019-11-26T15:34:00.001-08:002019-11-26T15:34:18.676-08:00Musings: objectifiedWhen I came out in my teens, I adopted this gay couple as mentors and one of the things they advocated for was for me to fully invest myself in the high school experience and my friends. No need to hunt for a boyfriend. Definitely don't need to hunt for a trick. Yes, you've come to realize you're gay but there's more to you than just who you sleep with so just go out there and have fun with kids your age and live life. They were actually really protective and were insisting that I see myself as more than just a body as they knew there were folks that would prize me for my youth. Not that it totally worked cause I was still fucking with guys twice my age and then some but I also heard what they were saying.
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<br>Fast forward to now and suddenly I realize I'm the older guy and guys half my age are hitting on me and I'm rather inconsistent on how I perceive that. Generally, hot is hot. I don't find younger guys more attractive and I don't really chase them but when they hit on me, I usually flirt back. And if it goes beyond that, as it often does, I generally try to make sure that they have a damn good time. Generally not my thing to do an anon gang bang with a 20 year old. It's gonna be connected sex and they're going to know that I'm really into them.
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<br>So, when a guy that just started college hit me up on twitter wanted to play, I was on the fence. I'm not looking for anything more than just something physical and I don't want him to feel used and objectified because of it. We ended up in a hotel room together with my hands roaming his body trying to read him and find his trigger points, but the boy was so damn sensitive. And then when he was on all fours with my cock just teasing his hole, he impatiently barked, "Just stick it in and fuck me already!"
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<br>Ha!
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<br>Funny how it goes. Here I was, overly sensitive about not using him as a piece of meat and irconically, by doing so, I placed him on a subjugated status when he knew exactly what he wanted. He was totally in control and he wanted to use me as a human dildo. And I'm totally fine with being objectified that way.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-57670523025706951612019-10-14T05:52:00.001-07:002019-10-14T05:52:12.731-07:00Rewarding eagernessSo picture this:
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<br>My face is planted in deep between the round, fuzzy globes of a beautiful college kid while he's on his hands and knees. My tongue swirls, orbiting around his hole in smaller and smaller circles before it crashes into the depths. As my tongue snakes deeper into his hole, I'm about to pass out from in between the deep cleft of his mounds. My nose burrowed into the inner depths of his musk and my mouth suctioned against pure magnificence, I need to claw my way back out of the spell of his intoxicating sensuality before I pass out from the heady lust. I don't need poppers when I have the delicate scent of individuality to get high off of. His scent is unique even after the quick shower we shared and I'm loving it, so after a big gasp of air I dive right back in.
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<br>"Just fuck your cum inside me already!" he softly pleads into the pillow so I can barely hear. I reluctantly pry myself from his mounds again to answer.
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<br>"An eager boy! That's just what I was aiming for. Work you up until your body needs this dick inside you. But it's not time yet. I'll let you know."
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<br>And with that, I lap at his taint which makes him twist and flinch, as I've just tried to brand him with hot iron. I lap at his balls and he whines and shudders. I reach up to pull his hard, uncut cock back to lick, but he swats my hand away. For some men, it's an indication that he wants me to concentrate on my own enjoyment, for others it's due to a distaste for oral sex, but for him it's because he's on the verge of cumming and he needs for it to last a little longer. He can't cum before I get my dick inside him finally. We've barely started.
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<br>It's his first time bottoming, he's told me. He's topped before but never bottomed. And he wants it bad.
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<br>I work some more spit into his hole with my tongue. I spend a long session playing a game to see how far I can get my tongue into his hole. When, I am content with the answer, it's finally time.
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<br>I do a test and I flip my inches on the valley of his ass and it makes a satisfying slapping thud. I work my hips so that the angle is right, retreat slightly so that I'm lined up, and handsfree and with all my attention and focus, gently apply pressure against his hole with the head of my cock. It streaks in with stops and starts, enough spit slime and hunger from the boy to welcome the invasion but a viscosity that's doesn't make for a completely smooth entry. I stop halfway through, not because I don't think he can take it, but because I want him to feel an effortless friction between our bodies. I apply just a dabble of lube that I work into my meat with a bit of flourish, a single wrist-flick stroke and I'm up in him again to the point where I stopped. I paused. It's not enough for the boy and he tries to back up onto me but my hands firmly grasp his waist to make him stop. I feel a pulse of his hole as it grasps at my cock in a tight ring and just when the strangulating hold around my cock subsides just a fraction, I glide in the rest of the way until our bodies meet and make an audible slap that reverberates through the room.
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<br>"That's what you needed, huh, kid. That feels like home."
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<br>Slow sensual strokes in and out, several of them, in tune to a mental melody that makes my his sway. Then I pull all the way out. Well, almost. Just part of the head of my cock rests firmly against the target so I know I'm lined up perfectly for the shot... and then I slam in hard. That would make anyone cry out, not just a novice. I meant for him to feel it. Feel all of me. Feel it violently. Feel both extremes, the slow and steady and the piercing impact that jolts you alive.
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<br>He pants. And whines. He's not a vocal lover, so I know this means he's really on edge.
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<br>"I want your cum inside me so bad," he whispers.
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<br>"Yeah. You do. And you want it so bad, you're about to cum, aren't you? Do it. Show me how bad you want it. Cum for me. You've got my permission. Just let go and don't hold back."
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<br>As I'm prodding him to just give into the sensations, I can feel it. His body, so pliable before starts to contort in microangles almost imperceptible, but enough where I know it's starting. And his hold starts to milk my cock, almost expelling me in the backstroke but I persist and slam it back in. He's not vocal enough to let me know when precisely it happened but I know it did. His beautiful uncut meat unfurled a healthy load of cum onto the sheets, handsfree.
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<br>I slow down when I think he's finished... slowly rocking him back and forth. And then I finally roll off of him and plop myself onto my back next to him, panting almost as heavily as he is as he regains composure.
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<br>I feel a wet patch under me.
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<br>"Is that your cum?"
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<br>A little grin and he sheepishly confirms. And drunk with the sexual power of it all, I pull his one arm over me like a blanket so that he can curl up onto me as we take a little break. I gently stroke his arm and back. He's hyper sensitive right now and don't want to tickle him. I just want him to feel the warmth of my affections spread from the palm of my hand. Even before we started to get into it, I could tell he wasn't used to touch. He'd beg off crying to be too sensitive and ticklish. And he's obviously trying to soak in my tactile ministrations.
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<br>"Good boy..." I'm not sure whether I'm referring to him permitting himself to cum handsfree or for him indulging me in my molestation, but either way he relents with a sigh.
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<br>And don't worry, I delivered the load he sought after fucking him in a couple different positions and then fucked another load out of him in the shower as we cleaned up. He got to experience how it felt to get bred and to have that load fucked deeper inside him.
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<br>Sent from my iPhoneBrucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-5718361821526485272019-10-10T09:03:00.001-07:002019-10-10T09:03:16.459-07:00Four moments in a fourwayI first met dwnsouf83 about a year ago in a group session that spreadnaround1 formed. We were in the middle of playing when dwnsouf83 swooped in from nowhere and made my cock throb a little bit harder and go a little bit deeper inside whomever I was plowing at the time. Fast forward a couple of months and we reconnect on twitter and it turns out, coincidentally, his partner has been hitting me up trying to get together as well. Took a bit for me to make the connection that they were a couple. His partner (lbc79ltnguy) and I never quite met, not because the attraction wasn't there (far from and they're a smoking hot pair to be honest) but part of it was scheduling and the larger part was probably us both being shy about what pigs we are. You tend to do a little dance of letting a guy know you're interested but don't quite let on to the fact that you're a whore that likes to plug as many holes as possible. I mean, don't wanna scare a guy away...
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<br>The stars aligned and we finally arrange for a night where we're all free to get together and lbc79ltnguy manages to also get a fourth to come. What resulted was an amazing couple of hours where we became a mass of flesh, feeding off of each other's energy yielding some really unique moments, like:
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<br>(1)
<br>I'm making out with lbc79ltnguy and feel his stubble scratch at me every time our mouths open to allow our tongues to meet. Mouths oval and locked at complementary angles so that we can devour each other, they move in unison but for some reason I can still feel his five o'clock shadow assertively brush at me as if I'm a passive doll being groomed. Not that I mind. At all. I'm just reminded of his aggressively masculine jawline as the muscles ripple to open and partially close to allow our tongues to undulate in a sensual dance within each others mouths. It's probably the ferocity at which we are making out, floodgates open from the lake of delayed gratification formed from streams of electronic flirtations. The kisses are urgent, fervent, but the passion as our tongues swirled is languid and playful as two children with ample free time. His long limbs wrap around me to draw me in near. Legs encircle. An arm around my back to pull me in close. And I break from the kiss to fully embrace the bristles that attack me, dragging my cheeks across the prickles and work my way down to his neck. He lets out a gasp as my tongue traces the strong muscles that strain when he throws back his head. I move down further to his chest, break for a quick second to look down at him with a glint in my eye and then swoop down to take his left nipple in my mouth. Another long exhale as his limbs, untangled from me in my movements try to reach out and bring me in close again. His right hand finds my left and brings it up to this right nipple and he expertly intertwines our fingers so that we both pinch his right nipple, hard, all while I lap at his left nipple with my tongue. At this, my mouth involuntarily breaks into a smile. I get what he's telling me. His nips are wired and they can take quite a beating. But I resist. The silent information was welcome though. I know not to hold back. So, I take his nip and use my tongue to press it against my upper teeth with steady increasing pressure until I release and let the broad tongue swirl around the nip and press it against his chest to get the blood flow pumping back again. Then a nibble with more pressure and release. Back and forth until I'm outright gnawing on his nip chewing them off and pulling. His body involuntarily quivers. I've found his limit, for now. I give his nip a break and release to massage it with my tongue only to ramp it up again. I get to his limit and push a little further. Again and again I push the line until I've thought he's had enough. When I pull away, he nearly pouts with the sudden diversion. He wants more, but I leave him so that he can enjoy the other men that are fawning over him.
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<br>(2)
<br>I'm fucking dwnsouf83 and focusing on him until movements beside us distract us both. lbc79ltnguy is being pounded on all fours next to us. Literally pummeled into the mattress that sends tsunamis that knock me off my own rhythm. lbc79ltnguy's friend looks up for a second and our eyes meet before we both smirk at each other. Just that small gesture makes me realize how unique this is. The four of us are having really connected sex where the attraction flows pretty well in all directions. Through the myriad of ethnicities, age groups, and body size, we all seem to be turned on by one another quite equally which is quite rare when meeting to purely address physical needs and attractions. It's rare when the chemistry is instant and doesn't leave anyone out when you haven't talked to them all to determine compatibility. To validate my suspicions, I lean over and the other top and I swap spit. Well, it's a bit more than that. We make out and it's pretty intense. So much so that the top rips his cock out of lbc79ltnguy so as to not shoot too soon. I don't let him get away with that though. Instead, I withdraw from dwnsouf83 and swoop down to take the top down my throat. We all groan at the same time. Me from all the juices that I'm tasting as I take him down my throat, the top groans from the sudden change in sensation as my throat tries to emulate the ass he just pulled out of, the others from the ferocity of which I suck him down. Pretty soon, I have the top on all fours as I lap at his hole. I'm not sure if he's prepped for it, but I don't care. I start to use the head of my cock to push my drool that has collected around his hole inside him and without any hesitation at all, he backs up and takes me fully inside him. I'm surprised at the turn of events, but it doesn't seem engineered at all. lbc79ltnguy starts sucking the (vers) top as I drill him and dwnsouf83 joins in as well. We're just a mass of limbs entangled onto each other for a moment.
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<br>(3)
<br>dwnsouf83 has got me really worked up. I've got him at the edge of the bed, legs up over my shoulders, my rock hard cock shoved in him balls deep and I'm staring at him intently. Eyes trying to pierce him as I fuck my meat into him. He boldly stares right back until I reach up. I was about to feel that buzzed hair that turns me on so much, that feeling of running my fingers over a fresh cut, but instead the palm lands near his collarbone as I lean forward and press my weight onto him and lower myself down for a kiss. We make out for awhile and as I raise myself back again, a long strand of drool connects us, separates, and then hangs above him. He opens his mouth to accept the spittle. To speed up the long drip, I spit it into his open mouth, at which he grins devilishly before opening his mouth wide again. I got the hint. The hand that was at his collarbone moves so that it wraps around his neck and I launch more spit into his open mouth. It sprays his face a little and I use my other hand to rub it over his face a little before using it to squeeze his mouth open in preparation for another round that I launch at him. I shift his left leg off my right should so it hangs off to the side and use the slime that I had scraped off his face to grasp his cock that had waned a little as I pummeled his ass. it doesn't take much to get him hard again. Just a little squeeze from the hand still around his neck, the slick spit lube massaged into his cock, and my cock insistent on fucking the cum out of him. And that's exactly what I did. He shoots long ropes as I deep dick him.
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<br>(4)
<br>I'm still inside dwnsouf83 after having managed to fuck the cum out of everyone in the room. I am amazed that he can still take a pounding after cumming. I'm trying to lose my load too, but the finish line is a long ways off. It had come and gone so many times my body has given up any hope of getting to the climax and is content with the attention that it is shown. I'm concentrating hard but I fail. Despite all the trigger points, the smell of cum and sweat and musk, hot guys working every part of me, I just can't cum. With some embarrassment, I waive the white flag and give up, announcing that I'm just not able to finish. My body is at peace with it, more than satisfied from the hours of play, but there's something satisfying about knowing my load is inside someone that makes me painfully acknowledge it's not gonna happen. Not tonight. And as I pull out and back away, my exhausted body literally gives up. Weak-kneed, it takes a second for me to steady myself and I crash on the bed for a few moments to catch my breath.
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<br>Sent from my iPhoneBrucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-8107870292159102502019-09-28T08:50:00.001-07:002019-09-29T14:46:54.175-07:00Momentarily too farYou know it's good when sweat beads on his body even though the fan is blowing directly on him. He's on all fours slowly trying to take my inches. Little by little, I feel his hole give in and my shaft slips a few millimeters before his body revolts and tightens up again. That gasp as it suddenly yields and a contented groan when he tightens up. Over and over. I sometimes ease up on the pressure and back up a bit only to solicit a whine and feel him involuntarily back up to make up for the loss. He wants me in him.
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I lay the palm of my hand flat on his back. Assertively. It doesn't glide across his body with soft caresses like it did before. For one, the sweat from his exertions is just enough to create a viscosity that glues my hand to him. For another, I'm using it to command his body to relax and let me in. And it works. The warmth of my hand seemingly sends a ripple through his body, synapse after interconnected synapse fall like dominoes in a zig zag maze through the fibers of his muscular back down to the inner rings of his sphincter so that he just flowers open and the last of my meat glides in effortlessly until I'm balls deep.
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I cry out obscenities in a sudden roar and I just revel from feeling the heat of his need within the depths of his core.
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A long pause before I finally break out of the reverie.
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And then I fuck.
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The floodgates opens and the patience I formerly showed was abruptly discarded for fiercely hard assaults on his ass. Full strokes where I rip my cock from his body only to plunge it back in. I can see his ring cling to me like the crescent of a circus top tent on the outstroke and then disappear as I push in. The boy is tight and with only spit as lube, I feel like I was dragging his insides out. All he could do was let out a long wail, buffeted by the rhythm of my fuck.
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God it felt good to finally be inside him.
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That period of delayed gratification wasn't even that long. I met him off of grindr. We only exchanged about 5 messages each before I pulled up at his apartment (which may sound like a lot but was probably a record for me). I did spend long minutes making out with the cute otter, swapping head, and then eating him out until he begged me to stuff him. But now that I'm in him, I can't hold back. I raise both my hands over my head in the middle of fucking him and with one fast, heavy swoop, let them both land hard onto his ass cheeks. I can still see my handprints when I grab his waist and pull him onto me. I can't get enough. It's not just my dick. I want to be inside him. My whole being.
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He reaches for the poppers and I grind to a halt. No need to have toxic chemicals splashing about. No need for the liquids, just the fumes. He caps the bottle and just when I feel their effects on his body, I start in again. I collapse onto his back. With one arm, I hold myself up while the other goes over his shoulder, under his neck and up from under to grab the other shoulder. His chin is resting on the crook of my arm. I've got him on a sleeper hold and I just use that position to pull him back into me for a couple of thrusts.
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And then I flex my arm.
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I'm not blocking airflow. I put him in the hold for just a couple of seconds before I relax the arm. I felt him go slightly limp, but now he's a jolt of energy. The first thrust after I relax my arm sends him into full body spasms that almost buck me off him. As I continue to slam my shaft into his destroyed hole, his head snaps up and erratically quivers from side to side as if to trace an invisible lighting strike as it hits the ground. He turns his head to look at me and I see a look of confusion, panic and shock that turns into lust as he starts to buck back into me again.
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I had gone a little too far. I didn't count on the poppers affecting things the way they did. It'd normally take a lot longer for a guy to pass out on a sleeper hold. My body went on automatic as I mentally weighed in on the gravity of what just happened. I was freaked out. My body, on the other hand, was completely turned on. I went from solid to rock hard. I went to from enjoying the sensations to being a maniac. I'm pretty sure the aggressive look I was giving him when he turned back to see what was going on would normally freak out a person on the street.
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I pull out and flip him on his back. He's just as hard. A momentary pause where our eyes meet and he understands. He nods vigorously and his legs fly up in the air and wrap themselves around me to draw me back in. I comply and shove it back in. No finesse. Just need. I throw his left knee over my right shoulder and push his other to the side as I grab his member. Instantly, I am coated in slime from the precum he is oozing and that his foreskin was collecting.
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"You're close, aren't you, boy?" I didn't ask that as much as I barked it at him as a statement of fact.
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"God, yeah."
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"Do it. Show me how much you love getting dicked down." And with that, I let go and let him take over while I fuck him in a couple different angles to see which one he responds to. He's flogging his dick when he lets out a yelp. Found that spot and I attack it relentlessly until he cums. He shoots everywhere. The first volley is a long streak that hits the pillow and bedsheets behind him. The second smacks him in the face. A couple of smaller spurts and then I hit that sweet spot again and he gushes big globs onto his belly. The flow doesn't seem to end. I couldn't help but laugh in amazement.
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I instantly pull out and lap all of it up. Big slurping noises as I try to suction up all the cum. Then I raise his legs and expose his ruined hole. My face is close and I can see the warm breath causing his hole to spasm and wink at me. And then I dive in and reverse felch the load into him. He knows what I'm trying to do and I can feel his pinched hole relax and open to accept the offers.
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"You okay?" I'm not a complete monster. I know how you can get after you cum.
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"Oh yeah. A hundred percent."
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So I flip him over on the edge of the bed and enter him again. I use the weight of my body to make him feel fully enveloped. Every inch of his body is draped with mine. This time, I languidly fuck, reveling in a cumslick hole until my cock pulses and makes it even wetter by adding my own load.
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Afterword (and a bit of a boner killer)
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I struggled with this one. It's the one time where I fully thought about how this is going to read instead of just jotting down on paper what I want to remember. One of the rare times where I actively acknowledged that there's going to be an audience while writing things down. Why? A couple of reasons: I didn't want this highly stylized narrative to encourage guys to actively try to put folks in sleeper holds to the point where they pass out but at the same time, didn't want to be too didactic either. The other reason: I really do struggle with how dark it is to be turned on by the things I get turned on by. Bondage demonstrations get me boned up almost instantly. I've been known to have keys to folks houses so that I can sneak in during the wee hours of the morning to wake them up with my body pressed against them. Sure, it's all consensual but do I even want to play into that? Furthermore, it's so at odd with how I am normally. Of course, one of my fuck buds says that's my charm: I'm completely different inside the bedroom vs outside. Ha! But then, most wouldn't know he's a well-hung bottom that loves to be spit on and slapped around (like literally spit and slapped in the face and punched on the chest) so maybe he's just recognizing a kindred spirit. Anyway, feel free to comment!Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-8867153146756104012019-09-23T06:00:00.000-07:002019-09-23T06:00:01.257-07:00A Sir that pushes the limits<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Here’s @prepkink’s version:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">His stature belies a dom. My stature belies a sub pussy boy. He already discovered and knows my penchant for pain during piggy sex. He delivered once before. Our first time left me with a smile, a sore throat, a full hole, and pained nips.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I am hoping for more of the same during Round 2.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Cleaned out and ready to go, I am on all fours on the bed when he undressed. I want his cock in me; I want to make him hard so he can wreck me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The commands come naturally, and my only job is to comply.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">As we get into our play, he ratchets up the twists on the nips. Several times I feel like I am going to see my skin rip whilst crying out in severe pain. I feel the shocks of pain through my body. He is in control. He is pushing me into submission. I’m in heaven. Should we set a safe word for next time? How does he know when to stop?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When I’m perpendicular to his torso, throating his beautiful cock on my hands and knees, he contorts his body to reach my cock and balls. As they dangle between my legs, he starts tapping the backside of my ball sack. Then the taps are more and more aggressive to full on whacks. I start to whine with a mouthful of cock. He tells me to keep taking it. I can feel the precum flow from my balls to the bedsheet. While he records it on his smartphone, he tells me I’m a good boy and confirms the flow of nectar from my cock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Raw nips. Sharp twinges from my junk. And he hasn’t even pounded his nut into my ass yet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">When we get to the fucking, he has me on my back. While he raw dogs my hole, he grabs my throat to apply pressure on my windpipe. My eyes roll into the back of my head. The occasional lack of oxygen to my brain makes me high while he pounds out my ass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He should be home with his husband, but he wants to make our session last as long as possible before breeding my hole. Despite his best efforts, my hole proves too much for him. He starts pounding harder and starts to breed my hole. He and I lock eyes. I encourage him to flood my ass and push his load deep inside me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">He pulls out and I can feel the jizz seep out my wrecked hole. My nipples are tingling; I know I will have to put aloe vera on them for the next few days. My balls are sore. I am in pain, but I enjoy every sensation.</span></div>
Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-20302948384634699162019-09-19T16:16:00.001-07:002019-09-19T16:18:45.062-07:00A boy that feelsWhat can I really say about a boy whose whole body acts like a plasma globe, nerve endings that sway and dance yearning for stimulus to touch and make a connection, tentacles seeking something to grasp, filaments assertively glowing with electricity and yearning to extend a path to dissipate the energy? He had asked me if he was gonna turn up in the pages of my blog and I made the mistake of telling him that if he writes up our last encounter, we can co-publish and share both points of view. So now I stare at a blank screen trying to come up with a traditional narrative when all I can think of is that look of longing hunger, those unfiltered howls from my ministrations and the way he connects to my suppressed desires every time we meet. This muse does not trigger words to flow onto a page. It triggers base instincts and only inspires my need to violently fuck my load into a hole.
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When I got to his apartment, I was fumbling to quickly find the gate code to his complex that he had sent me. I didn't want to get caught hanging around again. He lives right in the middle of the gayborhood and last time I ran into a platonic friend that I had to distract with random questions so he wouldn't inquire as to why I was hovering around a complex that is miles from my home. This time, as I let myself into the boy's apartment, another friend texted me. I texted him back that I was at @prepkink's apartment. This friend was one of the few that knows the other side of me. In fact, he was the one that introduced me to @prepkink while we were hanging out at a bar and then whispered into our ears our twitter names, which led to some knowing looks and giggles like teenaged children telling a dirty joke.
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No giggles now, though, as I tossed my phone onto his bed, grabbed his neck to pull him close, and mauled him with a fervent kiss. And as much as I had thought I had enough time to languidly explore his body before I went home, things escalated quickly. He's extremely connected to stimulus and completely unrestrained in his reactions. As my fingers dance across the contours of his body, his body ripples in goosebumps despite the late summer heat and he moans from the depths of his core, uncontrollably vocal and speaking in an undocumented language of pure lust. That, in turn, doubled my efforts to push him to new heights. At some point, I was gnawing heavily on his nips to the point where he needed to soothe it with aloe later that night. I also remember slapping his balls just to hear him roar in pain around my cock that was shoved deep down his throat. I remember angling my cock to thrust just so it breaks through that wall deep in his ass so that his eyes would roll. He does something to me. That look of pure need in his eyes, those pleading eyebrows, that moan, the violent shaking of his body as he accommodates my moves. It beckons me to push a little further. It gives me permission to go a little harder, to tap into that dark part of me that enjoys making a guy tremble. It actually encourages it.
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But what I remember most is lying in bed with him. Me on my back. His head on my chest. I'm completely spent, trying to catch my breath. And then I feel him tremble and shake, unprompted. I'm not even touching him. Aftershocks of an orgasm he never had. Even he's confounded, half laughing and speaking at the same time: "I. Don't. Know what. My. Body is. Do… -ing."
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And I'm watching in awe of how his body jerks and the beauty of it's song, so much so that I just hold him to me, envious of the unrestrained emotions and I hold it all in internally and invisibly weep at the untamed beauty.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-25789442038726090572018-02-23T06:58:00.000-08:002018-02-23T06:58:13.343-08:00The Twitter Guy<style type="text/css">
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<span class="Apple-converted-space">I </span>usually stick with camel-cased fictitious monikers for the men in these pages, conjured up from attributes that make sense once you meet them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Physical attributes or even just attitudes and swagger.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Like the guy sitting across the aisle from me on this train I’d call CommittedAndOverZealous420CultureDude ‘cause he’s rolling a joint in pajama pants with a playful cannabis print all over it at 6am in the morning.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That’s some wholehearted unabashed commitment to evangelizing a growing subculture.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But <a href="https://twitter.com/spreadnaround1" target="_blank">@Spreadnaround1</a> doesn’t need that.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I mean, I could call him EpitomeOfEthicalWhorishness or maybe AstuteSexualLibertineThatGetsMeWithoutTrying but really he’s a brand of his own and really doesn’t need my descriptors.</div>
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I do remember our first meet where he casually warned me his roommate may come home but not to worry, “We’re a really sex-positive household and wouldn’t be a big deal.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And I remember the laptop with the lid partially open but angled down to his ass while he was waiting for me on all fours on his bed, which simultaneously triggered my dick to twitch as it touched on my exhibitionist streak while simultaneously quickly debating in my head whether I should hold on my instinct to dive face first into that perfectly framed ass of his.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I wanted to hold on to some semblance of anonymity if the video was posted but at the same time, he really does have a nice ass.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Honestly, I’m not sure which impulse won out.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But I do remember halfway through when I played with his cock through the mound of the jock, he plainly stated that he’s not gonna get hard when he’s in pig bottom service mode. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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And that was what really stuck with me after our initial meet.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There’s an astutely empathetic nature about him that when combined with his refreshingly honest and unapologetic attitude to prurient topics, it makes him a really compelling guy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He calls himself an average guy but these traits are hardly average.</div>
<br />Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-51550214244739089302018-02-19T08:56:00.000-08:002018-02-19T08:56:44.119-08:00Ben 5: Introduction to Friends
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One of my friends was telling me how his fuck bud of choice at the moment just arranged a platonic introduction of him to his friends, which caused a raised eyebrow.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>To me, it’s just an extension of the casual nature of the friendship.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s a harmless invite to cultivate the “bud” part of fuck bud. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Of course, it would be more harmless and trivial when you’re introducing your fuck bud to <a href="https://twitter.com/spreadnaround1" target="_blank">@spreadnaround1</a> of twitter fame, as was the case when I invited Ben to tag along with me to meet at a cumdump gang bang of a kid with daddy issues.</div>
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Me introducing Ben to @spreadnaround1 wasn’t totally whimsical in nature.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was rather calculated, knowing what I know about them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Both great guys in and out of bed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Similar in attitude.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Both devious, subversive sex pigs masked by the conventions of civility.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>You should hear the filth that comes out of their mouths as they exchange raw lust and then minutes later after those needs are satiated, a discussion about management principles and our allegiance to either the american or national leagues in baseball.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And there’s also the fact that Ben’s ass is fucking perfect and I knew @spreadnaround1 would want to plant his meat in that.</div>
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So there I am, fucking the cum dump’s well used hole.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s already got one load in him from a guy that’s starting to dress and bail.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Ben’s already artfully opened up his ass.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>(I really don’t know how Ben does it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s hard as a rock and can stay that way for hours without getting close to cumming.)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>@spreadnaround1 also has had a turn.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The kid is on all fours and I have his throat in the crook of my arm with a sleeper hold as my cock is marinating in the warm, slick load that is coating his ass.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I pound the kid as he struggles.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Long, deliberate strokes punctuated by the sharp sound of flesh slapping on flesh.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And as I whisper into the cumdump’s ear how I’m going to wreck his hole so that he feels me for days to come, my eyes dart around to seek out my buds.</div>
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I see them, surreptitiously on the corner of the bed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Ben leaning over with @spreadnaround1 grinning at me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s silently telling me how hot Ben’s ass is while Ben sheepishly meets my eyes, feeling a little guilty for stealing a moment in what was supposed to be a focused cum dump gang bang.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> There's that unspoken rule that you're supposed to focus on the one bottom in these types of scenes. But y</span>eah, I knew introducing Ben and @spreadnaround1 was the right choice.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They’re going to get along just fine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
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I tightened my sleeper hold on the kid.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“Don’t worry guys, I got this one preoccupied,” I wanted to say to them. And at the end of the day, the cum dump got each of our loads and he was weak-kneed and wobbly getting off the bed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Yup.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Everyone is just fine and it worked out the way I thought it would.</div>
<br />Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-61745468037067202982018-01-26T07:08:00.001-08:002018-01-26T07:08:46.856-08:00Ben 4: Small World (of Hookups)On the one hand, I'm terrible with names. On the other hand, I'm great at them. I can forget a name seconds after being introduced yet sometimes, if I see a name in print, I can recollect it years after even though we've only met in person briefly once.
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<br>So Ben and I were having our post-coital chit chat and got to talking about his partner. He gives me his partner's BBRT screen name so I look him up (and by the way, I've already forgotten what that screen name is). And since I'm too cheap to get the paid membership, all I get is a small thumbnail that doesn't immediately register anything. But then, in a microsecond that is going to take a lot longer to explain, I put some pieces together. His partner and I have already played together. 6 years ago. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've written about him though I can't find the entry. And I also remember writing about him in the comments of a fellow blogger's site, which is now defunct.
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<br>How I put it together: I know Ben. I get the small thumbnail of Ben's husband. The two together trigger a memory of just a few months ago where I was at a pride parade and there was this hot couple behind me that I'd love to play with. Both had fine bubble butts. Ben talked about having a lot of ass between the both of them. Ben used to live in a sleepy part of town that I used to live in. Ben told me his partner's name and digging back it jives with the screen name or something I saw in print of a hookup I had years ago in the same part of town. Back in the day when Craigslist and adam4adam were my go to for meeting guys.
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<br>So I ask. The same night. Over text right after I got back from our little tryst. I give Ben details of the guy's place (the place was seriously decked out for Halloween... epic) and ask if it's the same guy. And sure enough, it was. Ben's husband was either the first or the second cumslick hole I've fucked in. Definitely the one that got me hooked. That warmth. That velvet feel. And the fucking sight of him on all fours before me. Now if I can get the two of them, Ben and his partner, doggie, side by side would make me cry. I mean, so much beauty in the world…
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<br>Sorry. Lost my train of thought there for a moment. Honestly, don't think a threeway with them would ever work out. I'm not exactly the partner's type and there are also "couple" dynamics involved... lots to overcome to make the chemistry flow to each corner and create an energy that is new, not explode in destruction. It'd be like practicing alchemy.
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<br>Anyway, yeah. It took six years but I've fucked the pair of them. And Ben's response was to sigh in mock exasperation how his husband always gets the fresh meat before he does... well, at least the SMS equivalent of that sentiment.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-81406176558659943352018-01-23T08:41:00.001-08:002018-01-23T08:41:37.914-08:00Ben 3: Open DesireIt early morning and I feel no shame as I openly stare at him. He's less than a half feet away from me, well beyond the borders that suburban sprawl has deemed appropriate for personal space. My eyes have to concentrate to focus on someone so close. I can feel my eyes focus on one eye and then dart to his other and back again, unsure of which one to land on to try to read what the next move is. And in the periphery, I see the muscle of his square jaw contract as if he's grinding his teeth but it's more akin to the instinctual act of a dog licking it's chops. Then his eyebrows furrow, upturned. A look of pure open and honest need. A plea. Desire. Right before he drops all of it and his face gives away and the undertow that is left in its wake pulls us together with such ferocity I'm scared we'll chip our teeth as our mouths meet in a kiss.
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<br>Nope, no shame at all. We've met up at a local hotel and even though we both spent the night with our respective partners, the bed is already rumpled. A couple used towels are thrown about haphazardly disrupting the carefully curated brand of tidiness that's pictured in travel sites. We entered the room that way and Ben is well-aware of my insatiable sexual needs that made me take advantage of having the room the evening prior to engage in a quick little romp with the guy I've deemed the QuintessentialBear in these pages. In fact, Ben's refreshingly so judgement-free that we often encourage each other's exploits and share stories and giggle over experiences like two teenaged girls fawning over the star quarterback… but a dirtier version of that where sperm flies all over the place in an orgy.
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<br>And that ebb and flow of delayed satisfaction and intense need rippled through the morning as we rumpled the used sheets even further. Teasing his cock with the flick of the tongue before all restraint is lost and I swallow the thing whole. Getting so close to his hole where the moisture from by breath visibly collects on the hairs of his hole before my tongue lashes out and buries itself between the two mounds. Teasing his hole a little with my cock, feeling his hole wink and beckon for the crown of my cock to be inside before pummeling his ass with full length strokes that's punctuated at the end with ball-slapping urgency and purpose.
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<br>But what I remember most is not the individual acts, but the giggles afterwards. We've just added yet another conquest to chat frivolously about and that crested wave only left an undertow that pulls us together in a kinship as unabashed fuck pig debauchery.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-17639994426826333042017-12-26T16:16:00.003-08:002017-12-26T16:16:55.765-08:00Ben 2<div class="p1">
He fumbles with the keypad at his garage.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He’s searching for it, knows it’s there.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He just takes a second.</div>
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“To the right.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I think you have to open it,” I suggest lightly.</div>
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“Can you tell I don’t usually go in here?”</div>
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And with that, he flips the cover open and his hands trace an easy pattern across the keypad and enters in the digits that start a sudden, jarring mechanical whirl of an engine that contrasts significantly from the graceful dance of fingertips that triggered it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>An awkward pause as the door lifts with clatter and clash that is probably so mundane in the suburban surrounds but nevertheless causes alarm for the clandestine nature of the activities we have planned behind the door.</div>
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Ben casually strolls inside though, flicks on the light, and find the button to close the door again.</div>
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It’s a tight fit.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A one car garage with what I’m assuming is his husband’s car inside it, since he doesn’t use this garage much.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>We work our way to the back, squeezing by the tight aisle between the car and the shelving against the wall.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Boxes sit in deliberately casual stacks along the shelf, varying sizes and heights that define a miniature city skyline that we tiptoe along until we settle upon a clearing.</div>
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And there, I look up and he has that quiet, piercing look again.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The one that draws you in.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And we inch together until we can delay no more and rush the final gap in an extreme embrace.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Lips lock and he forces the breath out of me as he draws me to him, hugs me close.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Soft, supple lips dissonant to the fervor in which we devour each other.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Definitely not a passive guy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Active.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Aggressive.</div>
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I reach behind him, low.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sliding underneath the elastic band of his shorts, each hand grabs a mound of ass and I’m impressed with what I feel.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The pics made him look beautiful, but my hands feel something that a picture can’t describe.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Each orb was perfectly round.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The quintessential bubble butt, an even layer of soft skin enveloping two perfectly round, firm mounds.</div>
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I rush it a bit more to yank those shorts down to see what my hands felt.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His cock obstructed a clean yank and as I looked down, I realized why.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The kinky bastard was wearing a cock ring all throughout our conversation in the coffee shop.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>That explains the extra bounce as he walked and flopped in front of the gardeners.</div>
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I take him down my throat in one swallow.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A thick slab of meat that rivaled my own in terms of length.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I explore with my tongue, have it dance across the shaft.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Take the head to the back of my throat and partways down.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I suck in hard to let him feel my whole throat work his shaft.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I oval and form a ring with my lips.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I try all my tricks.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I even cheat and use my hand.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>But with each moan, I could tell that none of these would easily get him off.</div>
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I grab his hips and start to turn them and notice a slight resistance before his legs, handcuffed by the shorts around his ankles, shuffle to allow me access to his ass.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He smells fresh of the shower, yet masculine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There’s a faint musk.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And I dive in while he squirms.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This, I can tell, he truly enjoys, but he holds back.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And it’s funny how each ass is different.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His, I can trace the ring with my tongue.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s pronounced.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I can chew on it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It drives him wild but I tell he’s not completely comfortable.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m pretty sure I know why.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He hasn’t completely prepped for ass play and that lack of confidence causes a barrier.</div>
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I rise back to my feet and make out with him, making him take in his musk that’s on my face and taste himself on my tongue.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He doesn’t hold back. Doesn’t flinch.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I can tell: he’s quite the liberated pig.</div>
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All too soon, he shoves my pants down to free my cock of the confines of my jeans.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He takes me into his throat with some skill, but it’s me that holds back this time.</div>
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It’s incredibly rare for me to be able to cum from oral alone.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I don’t know why.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Perhaps I’m too distracted with nothing to do.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The curve of my dick doesn’t allow for good face fucking except in very specific positions and it seems way too unnatural for me to sit back and just enjoy the sensations that a guy can pleasure me with.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I immediately think ahead of a guy’s ass.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And just those glimpses of an ass as a guy’s head bobs on my cock is enough for me to want to hold off until I can shoot my load deep inside a different hole.</div>
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But Ben persists.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He works hard for my load.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And that same nature that draws people in makes me give in and want to give it to him. I grip the sides of his head.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Slow him down to a rhythm where I can feel each muscle movement along my cock.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And when I feel an orgasm just in the horizon, I double-down on my grip and fuck him in deliberate strokes.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Ignoring any gagging or letting it add to my journey dominating his throat.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And with just a groan of a warning, I blast my pent up load down his throat.</div>
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I black out a little in the afterglow until his suckling makes me so sensitive I’m on the verge of losing bladder control.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And I chuckle.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Looking at him.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m sure this isn’t the last I’ll see of him.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>And it isn’t…</div>
Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-38189711402757923362017-12-11T07:32:00.001-08:002017-12-11T07:32:47.744-08:00Ben 1His voice is intriguingly soft yet authoritative, complimenting his kind eyes that aren't afraid of making gentle eye content. I feel like I have to lean across the table sometimes to fully get what he's saying at times. A voice that draws you in. And though I can't read lips, my eyes lower to watch his lips sensually form words that reverberate through the air to lick my ears. Who knew that the light chit chat typical of LA (work, traffic, housing, occasionally weather but that becomes even more mundane as it doesn't change dramatically that often) could be so enticing, especially as my eyes lower even more to his full zip hoodie? My eyes trace the zipper line down to see how it softly lies on his skin. Yes, he's not wearing the customary shirt underneath. Shirtless under his hoodie, he chest hair curls out from underneath. The guy knows what he's doing. Casual hot dad vibes stopping for coffee after a quick run in the morning. It's a good look.
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<br>We're both early risers but also both coupled so hosting was a problem. So Ben suggested we meet at a coffee shop early in the morning to see how the chemistry is and, if favorable, let the sexual tension build until we are able to play properly.
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<br>The guy knows what he was doing. With such a casual, unaffected flair, he manages to get me hard as a rock the moment we sat down. I couldn't help but weave sexual innuendos into the conversation. Then just blatant admissions of how I wanted to violate his holes. And after every lewd outburst, I sheepishly eye the cop next to me. If we were in a gayer neighborhood, I would have guessed that the cop and the guy he was sitting with was grabbing a parting coffee after fucking all night long. But once again, I'm sure that is just the fantasy in my head from the intoxicating sexuality that Ben is oozing.
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<br>I can't hold back anymore.
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<br>"You're around the corner. Do you have a garage, cause we need to sneak some playtime in. Right now."
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<br>And as we walk to his garage, his cock obscenely bounces left to right with quite some heft. Apparently, the mild conversation and the build up got to him too. He is obviously freeballing it, but that didn't stop him from waving to the gardeners across the street. Casual, confident, sexual. we round the corner and got to the garage…Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-35699497314736811752017-12-06T06:50:00.001-08:002017-12-06T06:50:20.564-08:00And I’m back...So I'm going to try to tie in a bunch of thoughts that are probably all separate discrete entities to themselves but I have a tendency to try to wrap things up into a bow to better understand them, even though the knot is loose and the ribbon that binds them all together is completely inadequate and frail. And I'm going to try to get these thoughts out all in one pass, unedited. Just to get my writing hat on 'cause recently I've been inspired to pick this blog up again due to a very kind note from a reader. Beautiful French-Canadian that writes with humility of his poor English. Ironically, he does so in perfectly articulated eloquence. And when I say beautiful, he's a drop-dead gorgeous hunk, the one where you look behind you and then remark in disbelief that he's talking to you. But I digress…
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<br>So I've become quite smitten with Colby Jansen. I know nothing of the guy really, but he comes across my twitter feed often in the early mornings when I try to get myself motivated to get off the bed and go to work. So I'm watching it on mute and what strikes me is that he's versatile and doesn't totally follow the normal conventions of porn. He's a beefy, burly kid that fucks and gets fucked by guys of all sizes… and I mean that both in overall mass and the mass underneath the belt. And I love watching a smaller guy totally dominate a guy bigger than himself. I'm sure that's because it mirrors my preferences to open myself up to all sorts of experiences and not limit myself to the guys I play with. There's this tendency to follow some heteronormative conventions in porn where the more masculine guy is the top. Therefore, things that perpetuate masculine ideals are projected as top only: the guy with the bigger dick tops the smaller-docked guy, the guy with the bigger muscles, the bear over the twink, the daddy over the son, hairy over smooth. But that's not real life. Sometimes the daddy craves to ride his son. And some guys love a short fat cock punching their prostate cause let's face it, the prostate isn't ten inches deep and you don't need a foot-long schlong to reach it.
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<br>And that's what I fight with on my own twitter content: the need to filter and portray myself in a certain light. You know, sometimes my voice comes off as shrilly and bitchy and that's fuckin' okay. I don't have the biggest dick of the party and I still wanna top and that's fuckin' okay. I might ignore the fact that you're some butch burly top and wanna fuck you 'till you're speaking gibberish and that's cool too. As is me wanting the dick of a small, feminine top with glitter nail polish to fuck the living daylights out of me. 'Cause that's real life. And every now and then I meet some playbuds with some refreshing attitudes that makes sex so liberating and fun, not just a routine of more conventions to follow.
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<br>So, as a result, I tweeted an indirectly bitchy tweet about folks that ask for more retweets and likes before they post the whole video. Just do it. Make the porn that you like and send it off to the world. Some may love it. Some may hate it. And maybe some will just appreciate the honesty of the way it exists: real people having real sex in whatever context. But I may be totally attributing my own spin on things. 'Cause I like it real and honest rather than edited and curated. Some might like the fantasy of perfection but for me, I love it when it says "hey, this is me, beautiful in all my glory and imperfections".
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<br>At the same time I'm kinda torn. I mean, aren't I advocating a certain perspective? And in doing so, aren't I try to skew perspective. But what I've landed on is that I just need to get out there and do my thing. Eat my own dog food. And hence, I'm going to start writing more text blog entries. For some reason, even though a pic is worth a thousand words, it's just a fuckton of fun just to read about it instead.Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-77472286155043781242016-12-08T21:04:00.001-08:002016-12-08T21:04:49.084-08:00Wrapped up in thoughtsI've been in my head a lot... to the point where I was out with my teammates after a game and all I could do was think about how socially anxious I've become and how I really don't know my teammates that well. And it's just one of the many instances where I've been analyzing my relationship with other people instead of just living it.
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<br>I had a threeway with a couple recently. Apparently, I'm their first even though they have an open relationship and often play separately. And the first thing that happens is one guy points to his partner and says, "You're gonna have to work on him to get him comfortable. He gets really shy and body conscious sometimes." And as soon as he said it, I saw what he meant. It was nuts, cause he's an extremely handsome guy. But yeah, he stood there slightly tentatively with an expression of an aggressively masculine stoic nature. I couldn't tell if he wanted to fuck or to punch me in the face. But as soon as I pulled him into a kiss, I could feel him let go a little and eventually yield to being comfortable in his own skin and allowing himself to both desire and be desired.
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<br>He just emailed me recently and he told me he had some body dysmorphia issues and is just recently starting to feel what everyone is telling him: that he's a stunningly good-looking guy. And to encourage it even more, I told him even I don't get hit on as much as he does. He was surprised at that. After some reflection to make sure it just wasn't a hyperbole meant to encourage him to strut a little (he deserves to! And I don't think it will ever get to the point where he fundamentally changes and becomes cocky), I honestly don't know if it's true. It could be that I just don't get hit on by the guys I want to hit on me.
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<br>Here's the thing: to simplify our world, we've gotten so wrapped up into archetypes and conventions but I'm not sure I'm entirely conventional. The bigger beefier guy is often thought of to be more masculine and the more masculine is thought of to be the top. For some reasons, guys tend to think of Asians as more submissive which I can sorta understand on the cultural level where a lot of social situations are based on subtext instead of explicit instruction which can be seen as the opposite of dominant. Oh, and in porn, the guy with the bigger dick is always the top and I'm pretty average. Don't believe the guys I've been with. It's not big. They're just under a Jedi mind trick.
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<br>Anyway, so we generally use conventions to simplify our world so I tend to attract a lot of tops. And I generally don't let that stop me from playing with them. Sometimes I surprise them and they end up with my load buried in their ass. But here's the thing: I can't tell how much of my attractions are genuine and how much are social constructs. I'm really turned on by unexpected role reversals: the smaller guy topping the bigger guy, small cock with big egos, the younger kid manhandling an older daddy-type. Do I just have a natural affinity to older, beefier guys or is it some sort of constructed fetish? When I first came out, I spend a long time trying to figure out who I am, deconstructing things to get at my authentic self no matter how masculine or how feminine it was. And I kinda feel the same way about my physical attraction to others. How much of it is body dysmorphia leading me to like the opposite of me? How much of it is me trying to frustrate the status quo? And why can't I just get out of my head?Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-19505947421233774322016-10-29T22:33:00.001-07:002016-10-29T22:33:44.771-07:00When bloggers meet... (redo)<div><span></span></div><div><div dir="ltr"><div dir="auto"><div>(Apparently some of the text got lost when I first published it so I'm redoing it...)</div><div><br></div><div>"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"</div><div><br></div><div>I assembled a reply of assent to the largely rhetorical question before blurring out a guffaw that I stifled as quickly as possible but not before changing the angle a tiny bit and fucking my inches into him for emphasis. It was a move that borderlined the affected. The laugh, the swagger, the confidence that I could persuade a man to give himself to me and the little sway of the hips before I plunged it all into him... all a little more cocky and self-assured than I really was. To be honest, I wasn't sure if we were going to meet at all, let alone where we ended up: in a motel bed by his work with my cock buried inside him and me slack jawed in amazement that anything could feel as good, eyes feasting on the beauty that lay below me.</div><div><br></div><div>I've followed James/JFBreak ( <a href="http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html?m=1" target="_blank">http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/<wbr>2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-<wbr>stuff-ahead.html</a> ) on blogger for several years now. Half a decade? Long enough to move to his hometown and then back out. I had commented on his blog a few times and then emailed him directly when I found that I was gonna move to his city. I completely ignored his advice on where to live, not without a little regret. Through the correspondence and just reading the blog itself, I was struck by the level of his authenticity. A clearly strong voice, even as it expresses doubt or hope and a voice that challenged me to allow for another point of view that's completely not my own. I've never had an inkling of bi-phobia, that derisive stance that some gay guys get thinking bi guys just won't pick a side and are really just gay men in disguise. At the same time, I've never challenged my own spectrum of sexuality, never fully analyzed my own curiosities of the other sex despite my affinity to female breasts and also never truly meditated on my views of fidelity. He exposed to me the whole world of swingers, cucks, hotwives - communities that finally assembled and articulated my views on compersion, that antonym to jealousy, that excitement from seeing my partner flirting and/or going to bed with other men. So fuck yeah, I tried to meet him when I got to his town. Partly because he's just become a powerful figure in my head but also just to thank him in a way I knew how: give him that experience of a real cock in his ass. Though we shortened the gap, geographical proximity always came into play as well as schedules as we were both arranging things outside of our respective relationships so things just didn't plan out. But I also suspect a large part of it was insecurity on both our ends on how it would play out.</div><div><br></div><div>So no, I honestly didn't know this was how we'd end up. I was completely off my game when I first opened the door to let him in. A bundle of nerves. He's someone I've been dying to meet for a long time. And when I found him to be just as hot as I suspected him to be, I was completely awkward. Handshake that quickly got aborted for a hug and kiss that was jerky and kinda missed the mark. I just wasn't quite sure how much I can get away with. I'd have sucked his face off and petted the skin off his body if I didn't hold back a bit and let things play out.</div><div><br></div><div>And the banter in between was completely him. Absolutely congruent with the persona online. It's that weird duality of confidence of his own identity even as he expresses his short comings. It's almost as if he's defiantly self-deprecating as we compare cock size and take pictures. His incredibly masculine build, fuzzy chest and broad shoulders were proudly on display despite his own admonishments about his self-consciousness. And my cock resoundingly answered that whatever he is, the combination and conflicting messages were hot as hell.</div><div><br></div><div>Let me just say this, though. The kid sucks a mean dick. And fuck, he's tight. I know my cock. It was once described as torpedo shaped. Smaller at the base with a thick part in the middle before rounding out to the tip. And as I tried to ease my way in, I felt his hole throb around my shaft. I went in slowly, his body gripping me and trying to memorize each countour as I slipped in millimeter by millimeter. Then I hit the wall. I was coming up to the thickest part of my shaft.</div><div><br></div><div>"Is the head in?" he asks.</div><div><br></div><div>"You're a lot further along than you think!"</div><div><br></div><div>He's responding to that wall that we're hitting, that thick part that once you get past, your hole will suck the rest in, like with an anal plug. I paused for a moment, waiting for that moment where his hole will ease up a bit and start to flower open. And just when I felt that, I made my dick swell just a little bigger and then inched in just slightly and his hole did the rest, sucked the rest of me in until I was balls deep inside.</div><div><br></div><div>I fucked the cum out of him, pulled out and lapped his cum up from his body while he reflected on how he couldn't tell when his orgasm started or when it ended. And when he expressed some concern that I didn't get off, I shrugged. It was the furthest from my mind. I was simply elated to have met him and even more thrilled that we got to play the way we did because honestly, I didn't plan it at all and no, I seriously didn't know that this was how we'd end up.</div></div></div></div>Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8773099942156500340.post-18879189510443565162016-10-28T16:23:00.000-07:002016-10-28T16:24:01.780-07:00When bloggers meet...<div><span></span></div><div><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><div>"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"</div><div><br></div><div>I assembled a reply of assent to the largely rhetorical question before blurring out a guffaw that I stifled as quickly as possible but not before changing the angle a tiny bit and fucking my inches into him for emphasis. It was a move that borderlined the affected. The laugh, the swagger, the confidence that I could persuade a man to give himself to me and the little sway of the hips before I plunged it all into him... all a little more cocky and self-assured than I really was. To be honest, I wasn't sure if we were going to meet at all, let alone where we ended up: in a motel bed by his work with my cock buried inside him and me slack jawed in amazement that anything could feel as good, eyes feasting on the beauty that lay below me.</div><div><br></div><div>I've followed James ( <a href="http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html?m=1">http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html</a> ) on blogger for several years now. Half a decade? Long enough to move to his hometown and back out. I had commented on his blog a few times and then emailed him directly when I found that I was gonna move to his city. I completely ignored his advice on where to live, not without a little regret, but through the correspondence and the blog itself, I was struck my the level of his authenticity. A clearly strong voice, even as it expresses doubt or hope and a voice that challenged me to allow for another point of view that's completely not my own. I've never had a strong sense of bi-phobia, that sense that some gay guys get that bi guys just won't pick a side and are really just gay men in disguise, but at the same time I never also challenged my own spectrum of sexuality, never fully analyzed my own curiosities of the other sex despite my affinity to female breasts, and also never truly meditated on my views of fidelity. He exposed to me the whole swingers, cucks, hotwives community that finally assembled and articulated my views on compersion, that antonym to jealousy, that excitement from seeing my partner flirting and/or going to bed with other men. So fuck yeah, I tried to meet him when I got to his town. Partly because he's just become a powerful figure in my head but also just to thank him in a way I knew how: give him that experience of a real cock in his ass. Though we shortened the gap, geographical proximity always came into play as well as schedules as we were both arranging things outside of our respective relationships. But I also suspect a large part of it was insecurity on both our ends on how it would play out.</div><div><br></div><div>So no, I honestly didn't know this was how we'd end up. I was completely off my game when I first opened the door to let him in. A bundle of nerves. He's someone I've been dying to meet for a long time. And when I found him to be just as hot as I suspected him to be, I was completely awkward. Handshake that quickly got aborted for a hug and kiss. I just wasn't quite sure how much I can get away with. I'd have sucked his face off and petted the skin off his body if I didn't back away a bit and let things play out.</div><div><br></div><div>And the banter in between was completely him. Absolutely congruent with the persona online. It's that weird duality of confidence of his own identity even as he expresses his short comings. It's almost as if he's defiantly self-deprecating as we compare cock size and take pictures. His incredibly masculine build, fuzzy chest and broad shoulders were proudly on display despite his own admonishments about his self-consciousness. And my cock resoundingly answered that whatever he is, the combination and conflicting messages were hot as hell.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>Brucehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06670970539093987978noreply@blogger.com4