These shorts...

Not sure why I like these shorts so much... They're a bit small on me...

"Quick" cummer dippin' fratty kid

So, this is guy #8 that I noted here...

The title probably seems out of the blue but you'll get it when you read the entry.  The kid is cute as hell so wish I could have shown you guys more.  Ha!

Misread

His Growlr profile noted that he was submissive, but I think I went too far.  I tore at his ass with my cock while holding him in a choke hold.  He wasn't in any danger but I think he freaked out just enough for me to not be surprised that he didn't reply when I thanked him for a good time the next day.  But then, to my surprise, he messaged me a couple of months later.  So this next time, it was more of a straight-forward fuck.  But he definitely wasn't a top.  Nor did he like to take the lead.  So I was confused until after and he opened up to me and started talking about his partner of over a decade, how he helped his partner through a scary period when brain cancer was discovered.  And without saying it, I realized why he didn't message me.  

We cuddled and I held onto him a little longer than is comfortable, a way of thanking him for opening up to me in so many ways.

More of the couple?

Found some more. One of each of the two halves of the (possible) couple. Ha!

Half of couple

Still going through my phone deleting pics...

This is one half of the possible couple that I played with individually a couple years back...

Blue eyed guy

So my phone is maxed out in terms of storage space.  I have a shit-load of porn on my phone apparently.  Ha!  Decided I need to clear some of the stuff up and I noticed a few things that you might be interested in.  This is the guy from Drowning...

Notes

I'm reviewing my journal of short phrases that I jot down after every encounter and I ran across my notes from the first time I met the TweakerCub.  I realized the note that I wrote about him remembering everything about my profile wasn't the fact that he was so enchanted by me that he made a special effort to read and remember all about me before we met.  No.  He's just incredibly talented and smart.  An amazing ability retain a lot of information an apply them deftly to real-world situations.  And as I recognize the irony of me having to jot down notes of people right after an encounter to remember in contrast to his casual mental notation that's so exact and comprehensive...  Well, that just made me cringe a little.  Such a beautiful mind working through the fuzz of addiction.

Jealousy

I really tried to play off the fact that I lept off R while making out with him when C walked in from work.  They're the couple that plays together and have welcomed me into their bed quite a number of times now.  Yeah, there was some guilt in that and I was trying to play it off as if I'm totally cool with making out with a taken man when his partner walks in unexpectedly.

"You guys didn't have to stop," C says with a snicker.

So we went back at it, but in a more reserved way and moved into a bedroom so that C can work on the computer instead of making sloppy kissing noises on the couch as he got caught up with personal emails after work.

Try as I might, I couldn't get R off playing one-on-one until C joined us a little later.  That amount of devotion that R has for C that translated to physical as well as emotional desire?  Yeah, I was a little jealous of that.

R got off right when C joined us.  Then C came while dry humping me as I made out with R, which turned Ron so much that he came again while I sucked him off.  Then the next morning C woke up and came into my room to casually note that he's the most horny in the mornings while R is always horny in the evening when C is completely exhausted.  I took that as cue to start sucking him and he shot for the second time in a ten hour period like R had the earlier night.

Yeah, I'm jealous of their chemistry.  But I also don't discount myself as the catalyst that they use in their bed to turn their emotional attraction to physical ones.  I'm able to bridge night and morning, bridge obligation with desire, tip the scale just enough to want to set aside normal passionless routines and indulge in a little playtime.  And a secret part of me hopes that my role as catalyst just makes them each a little bit casually jealous as I am of them.  

I was thinking of that secret wish as I sat at work smelling their cum on my face.

Poaching

So BikeGuy was remarking how the downside to having a couple of guys over is that sometimes they start pairing up with each other without you.  And I have to admit I'm a guilty party to that.  Don't really mean to.  The DirtyDaddy is an example of that.  We were tag teaming a mutual fuck bud when we realized that we had pretty good chemistry and then I started fucking him without our bottom bud in tow.  And apparently I bring out that bottoming instinct in him in a way that our fuck bud doesn't.  And I'm glad we still play with the other fuck bud cause I can't take half of what the DirtyDaddy dishes out when he's in that mode to just rail on and use a hole.

And then there's this one time just recently where I answered a Craigslist ad a bottom posted for a couple of tops to come by and use him.  I pulled up right at the same time that a biker pulled up.  Big slab of prime beef straddling a loud chopper with handle bars that are way higher than I think is comfortable.  The bottom turned out to be a guy with some bad body odor going on and not completely cleaned out to the point where I'm kinda glad he insisted on a condom.  As I fucked the guy, I turned him a bit so that the Biker and I could spitroast him.  The biker guy just sat there in that detached, masculine way that almost made it seem like an expectation that he's entitled to be serviced.  It's that whole ironic aggressive passivity, that whole "yeah, bitch, suck my cock while I sit back and look down at you with disgust" kinda machismo thing.  It didn't last very long and I had assumed that the bottom was just getting tired of sucking.  Nope.  The biker guy came already.  After just a couple minutes.  He muttered by way of apology, "Yeah, just never seen anything like that before."  Ha!  Read that completely wrong.  He was more so inexperienced he was frozen in sheer terror as we fucked.  No, that's not the guy I poached although I would have loved to.  If he thinks spitroasting his hot, wait until I work my cock into him!  No, it was the guy that came right as the biker left.  This hot latin guy with a jock frame and smooth chest under a scruffy beard.  I just shot my load right watching the biker get dressed and was getting dressed myself when the latin guy came in.  Fuck, I wanted his perfect bubble butt.  So I left a note on his car.  To my surprise, he answered.  To my further surprise, he's versatile and really wants my cock inside him.

Yeah, sorry bottom dude but I swear I'm leaving the bottoming to you!

DirtyDaddy in the changing room

And speaking about daddies... When I texted asking if he wanted to meet up he told me he was out shopping so I asked him to send some pics from the dressing room at Macy's. Ha! Also including a bonus pic of his cock...

My daddy issues

He's only a decade younger than me but he started calling me daddy and begged for my load as I fucked my raw cock into him. I had already shot just a few minutes before into a condom but then he suddenly started talking about barebacking which got my dick hard again. His ass was incredibly smooth and silky and he was so intent on getting me off for a second time. But at the same time, he kept on talking about getting together on a regular basis. Like every other day regular. And no wonder I'm not a real dad 'cause I can't even fathom the commitment of that regular of a fuck bud much less the patience required for 18 years of dependence. I'm okay with just being a daddy in quotation marks.

Finding your image online 2

So, in continuation from yesterday, I had signed onto the apps after having been gone for about a month and started replying to some of the guys that had written in the time between.  One of them, was a guy I had played with just recently and he was like, "Was that you that blogged about me?"  Holy crap!  I was embarrassed.  Sorta like getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar.  Totally froze for a second.  But he followed up with "It's cool if it was you.  If you could just crop my face out of that one photo, that'd be cool".

He was so good natured about it all, but I was still a little off my game.  A part of me was like damn, is he gonna freak out knowing how much of a whore I am?  Did I destroy my chances at playing with him again?  And a bunch of other random concerns that are totally at odds with the way he gently discussed things.  I mean, the guy was really casual about it while I'm all freaking out.

And we chatted.  Open and honest conversation.  And it just echoes what I already knew about him.  He's such a goddamn good guy, I'm totally smitten.  And his story.  He dropped a successful career to find a craft more suitable to his liking.  Inspired by ExplorerJack (thanks bud for blogging and setting the wheels in motion for this guy and I to cross paths!), he also decided to try hooking up with guys and hasn't really looked back since.  There's just this youthful vitality of exploration that's undeniably attractive.  Oh, yeah.  And he has a rockin' body and a fat uncut cock that'd make any guy drool, too.

Finding your image online

The first confirmed account of someone stealing my picture was a number of years ago when my fuckbud emailed me directly and said something to the effect of "Hey, I'm free too!  Let's get together."  Problem is, I hadn't talked to him in ages and it seemed like he was picking up a recent conversation.  Apparently, he saw my pic on craigslist and replied to me directly.  He pointed me in the direction of the ad and I was like whoa.  They're like three different pictures of what could be the same person, but was probably different people with very similar body types.  So I wrote the CL guy, saying "Hey, if you're going to steal my pic, at least post it to a different metropolitan area so that you don't confuse my fuck buds".  Ha!

And then there's this guy in these pics.  We first met off of CL and me and the DirtyDaddy/BiMarriedDad have shared his ass on numerous occasions.  I took a few pics and apparently he likes 'em 'cause he uses them to lure other tricks to his bed.  I've ran across these on Craigslist too. Not mad at all.  At least he's not catfishing.  I'm also assuming now he won't mind me sharing these pics with you!

But that's my dilemma.  It's a bit jarring when you come across your own pic unexpectedly.  But at the same time, as long as he's not posing as me, I'm okay with it.  And as long as he honors my wishes to be relatively anonymous (like, cropping off my face if too much of it is showing)...  And as much as I'm a face guy, I usually don't put my face in my nudes.  Just too many guys pulling down pics and reposting as their own (especially on Tumblr...  which I don't get because there's a reblog feature that keeps the source intact and gives credit where credit is due).  And once it's out there, it's out there.  So, sometimes after getting with a guy, I'm so giddy I want to share the details.  But where do I draw the line?  Is a story post okay?  Can I go further and post the headless body shot they sent over?

German

Oh, the dirty German boys...

He was visiting San Diego and had spent most of the time with a friend but decided to spend the night alone at a hotel so that he could be closer to the airport and not bother his friend for his early morning flight. That's where I step in. Not sure what in his profile made me brazenly piss in mouth without warning, but it happened. Ya see, I have this thing where the head of my cock is extremely sensitive to the point where if you focus on it too much during oral, I spontaneously lose bladder control. Kinda like getting tickled so bad you pee your shorts. Well, the kid went for it and I didn't hold back. And he kept on going for it. Drank straight from the tap and never missed a drop each time. And yeah, I figured that was a cue that I could slap his balls... hard. To the point where he doubled over a couple of times but also got rock hard from it. And that I could chew off his nips. And that I could skull fuck him and spit in his face so that he was just a fucking mess of snot and deep-throat spittle and my oral juices by the time he finally came from the abuse. Hey, I needed to make sure he remembered California when he got home. And remember again and again whenever a cold breeze hit or his shirt moved across his chest. For at least a couple of days.

Uncut

I have to say, I get flustered with an uncut cock. I'm like a teenager staring at it wondering what to do. I love the silk feel as I stroke it. Love watching the head glistening with precum when the skin retracts on each stroke...

But I can't for the life of me figure out how to properly blow a guy with one. It's like that scene in Chasing Amy where they agree to give pointers with absolutely no filter. I need that: yes, no, better, oh fucking God please don't stop that shit and keep going. That type of thing.

I get it though. Everyone is just slightly different. But there should be enough commonality for me to figure the cues to in the first minute of exploration to know what to concentrate on, right? Of course, exploring with this guy might be kinda rough. Goddamn it is fat as hell. I mean, I had my mouth full and was choking, teary-eyed just getting past the head. Holy cow. But I must have been doing something right since he hit me up again... I'm balking a bit though cause we are both tops and I just get the feeling he's not gonna budge on that front...

Contrasting

He's a set of beautifully awkward contrasts. Smaller gauge hole in his ear and shoulders that seem to be permanently stuck in a charming boyish shrug. Superhero shirt that once removed revealed a network of images tattooed on his back, etching harsh stories in indelible ink. He spoke in a gentle tune that cascaded in a soft lull that drew you into a sweet dream. But it was me that wanted to rock him in my arms from the moment he walked in, impossibly tall but postured in such a diminutive way that just so fucking cute. Or maybe that hunch is of the injuries he sustained in a softball tournament just the other day, leading to the pain patch that he had on his arm. I felt kinda guilty after I found out what that patch was 'cause I had contorted his figure into impossible shapes as I nailed my hardness into him in. And I felt doubly guilty since I continued to fuck him after I had already hammered him so hard he came from just a few quick strokes. It was one of those moments where his ass was just tensing from his orgasm in such a way as to milk my cock and I just was so close I couldn't stop. So I just rode that cusp of cumming for a few more minutes after he came before I fucked my load into him. The guilt lifted, though, as he purred in that singsong voice of his how he could feel my load in him. Cute. In such a contrasting dirty way.

Rough

So I remember this conversation and I know I ended up meeting the guy... But I don't remember how rough I actually got with the dude...

Numbers

Inspired by BikeGuy and a couple of other folks (like ExplorerJack and My Load Deep In You), I decided for 2016 I'd keep a spreadsheet of all the sex I have.  As of today, Jan 13th, I have 12 entries.  What the fuck?!  It's like when you keep a food journal and you find out you've been eating the caloric intake of a mammoth daily.  But I don't think that trend will continue. I've just had a series of work trips that kept me from home... and I'm counting the sex with my partner too...

Oh, and I've decided randomly that I'm not gonna jerk off solo as much.  So far, I'm keeping the pledge.  Surprisingly, it's actually been kinda hard even though I'm averaging playing around with folks about once a day.  Ha!

Follow-ups

The little follow-up notes are nice. Like the time I fucked a partnered guy that was visiting his family for the holidays and took a break to sneak his way over. And then me raw fucking him as his eyes rolled and him breathlessly chanting "I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I can't" before he came handsfree while I continued to pound his ass to the point where he was feeling a full body orgasm for a full ten minutes, bucking and moaning involuntarily to the sensitivity of it all. Yeah, he wrote me after to say that was a fuck he'd remember for several months. And I couldn't help but smile a bit at that.

The van

I rely heavily on sight. Often, not a huge fan of fucking in the dark. I often have a light on or two. Hell, sometimes I have all the lights on. Distracting for some. A feast for me. So I felt crippled in the windowless work van. 25 year-old kid that does some sort of high-end A/V electronics installation for work. At a hotel sharing a room with a coworker so he could only sneak down to his work van to play. One of those white vans that are completely windowless in the back. When he shut the door, the van was pitch black. Couldn't see a damn thing. But I could feel. I felt his ass. I felt him leaning over a box. Felt his hairy crack and the moist hole as he opened up for me. All that was heightened. And the smell. The smell of old cardboard boxes and work grime and that impossible smell of a kid in raw need. Apparently that was sensory overload, cause I came within a few minutes and the minute he felt me loading up his hole, he shot into his underwear. Fuck, now the smell of all that when I pulled out! I was almost disappointed when he opened the door to get out. But he was fulfilled. Distracted for the whole day apparently, as my load slowly leaked out throughout the day to soil his undies as much in the back with cum as it was stained in the front from his own load.

Obstacles doubling up

It's a bit of a problem. Not the fact that I'm fucking horned up as hell and it seems like everything in the world is cockblocking me from getting my nut. The guy is at a hotel just two miles away but I'm making turn after turn in the early morning hours when no one is in sight for some supposed road construction. That's frustrating, but not the problem. Instead, the problem is that things are getting a little out of hand. I have a hookup in an hour and at the last minute, I'm squeezing yet another hookup in. Why the fuck am I doing this when I have a perfectly good guy swinging by my room. Turn after turn and then a wild hunt for parking later, I'm in the guy's room and I know exactly why. My cock is fucking a load out of him raw even though he had asked for condoms just shortly before. That little high when I feel his hole quiver around my dick as he pulses out a load out of his enormous bulb of a mushroom headed cock. Some random married guy from the cold northeast. That feeling of satisfaction as I fuck that out of him - I'm addicted to that. That's why. And as easy as it could be to lose my load inside the dude, I don't. Because I know I have another guy coming that I can fuck and feel that all over again.

Flakes, another kind

Two hour flight and I'm home. I'm wearing a long-sleeve sweat shirt and I want to change into some shorter sleeves to relax after the flight. One hand holding the other sleeve as I pull my arm under and wiggle. Then the same ritual to get my hand out of the other sleeve. Then, with both arms under my shirt crisscrossed, I start to bunch up the shirt from the bottom up and that's when I smell it. The sweet smell of another man's cum that has dried on my shirt. A momentary pause when I smell it and take a huge whiff before I pull the shirt over my head and off. I still smell it. And I see it, too. Dried flakes on my skin like I'm in the process of a reptilian molting exercise. But it isn't my skin. It's the cum from the guy that I played with right before my flight. And I'm shedding it like I shed my shirt - enough to have the memory flooding back in a huge wave like the giant spray that flooded me that's causing all this. And as much as he flakes off me, I take that part of him in my mind forever.

First time, rippling echo

I think it was BlackJack that asked about my first time. Then I read on one of a blogs that he doesn't believe in one first time but many. I'm on the same page.

What I count as my first was in the back of a Pinto in the parking lot of a industrial business complex near East LA by a somewhat thuggish looking Latin guy 6 years my senior when I was 15. And what strikes me is that as unconventional as that kinda sounds it also echoes some time-old cliches. The raging hormones of a teenager in the back of a car. The fogged up windows on a cool night. The rock of the vehicle as things get heavy. And even some less common cliches. The older guy guiding the younger one for his first time. But the details are what I remember. The specifics that any cliche cannot fully describe. Like his scent as he exerted himself fucking me, a scent that was at once both acrid, tart and sour and also so intoxicating that I stole his undershirt to later sleep with like a favorite blankie to comfort me when I'm most vulnerable at night. And the glide of his condom covered shaft as he fucked his massive eight-inch thick uncut cock into me. It's a glide that I can still feel and never replicate. That easy glide of a lubricated steel shaft into a complementary hole that fits within a millimeter, that easy pull and push like a piston in a cylinder of a finely tuned motor but with one fine difference. It's not that neat polished steel of an artificial machine but instead the naturally imperfect ridges and bumps and contours of an engorged member pulsing to varying dimensions and my hole accepting each contoured imperfection perfectly.

And it never hurt. Because I wanted it so fucking bad.

And that's where the echoes in my head ripple with unconventional results. See, the other first that one might consider is five years prior to this episode in the back of the car. I was playing cops and robbers with the neighborhood kids and one of them was this thicker bodied Latino kid 6 years my senior. Through some sort of affectation, I was found on my knees in front of the kid as he walked around threatening imprisonment for my crimes. And a part of the swagger of a cop catching his burglar is to impart his dominance through some hazing rituals, like shoving his foot or his knee down the valley of my ass. And there's that echo. Even at 10 years of age, that somehow felt good. That somehow felt right. So when things escalated and I was tossed on the bed and my shorts shoved down so that he can shove his dick up my ass, I felt that glide. That glide that, despite that I wasn't ready for it, felt so good and so nice because I wanted it so fucking bad.

His dad walked in on us and he lept to his feet and backed up against the wall while I was in a daze on the bed wondering what the fuck just happened. He stammered some sort of excuse to his dad about it not being what it looked like and that we were just wrestling and such. And I was in such a fog of emotions I just sat there blankly. I didn't want it but at the same time I totally did. It didn't hurt at all. Maybe all that roleplaying got me into a sub space. Or maybe that kneeing made me open up and want it. It just didn't hurt. At least physically. I was sullen, though. And when his dad left the room, I muttered in a low voice that his pants were still unzipped. And then I stayed in my room for about a week and started to play less and less with the kids next door.

That East LA Pinto kid? I broke up with him after three months. And for awhile, he called me a cold-hearted bitch that didn't show any emotion. And that's where the echoes become rather unconventional. Because there were some aspects that weren't cliches but patterns of behavior. And I couldn't tell what was real anymore, or what was right. With the insolence of a typical teenager, I was able to shed the expectations of sexuality. But what I had a harder time shaking was my tendency to desire thicker Latin men. Fucking around with men felt right. Felt real. But I couldn't tell if that episode when I was ten was something I wanted or not. And whether or not my attractions to certain types were recreations to finish something that I just didn't fully resolve. The guilt wasn't from the fact that I was gay. The shame came elsewhere. And I couldn't tell if the shame was real or artificial. I had an inkling of what I wanted then. Am I just shamed because I feel like I should be based on social acceptance of how sexually precocious a kid should be? Or did I really not want it to unfold that way. Surprisingly, that's a tough question to answer. Because to this day, I still have a tendency to favor the Pinto episode as my "first time", though that hunger and ease was present in both.

Leather

I've never felt at home with the leather community. Don't think it's a race thing but it could be. I don't exactly have any of the traits of a bear but I have no qualms infiltrating that community though. Leather? Not so much. Perhaps the things I've experimented in were just that, experimental explorations instead of a focus area. So when I played with a professed kinkster last week, it was kinda off. He was an aggressive bottom and I was just kinda taken aback that I was being directed. Ha! He's a shorter bear/cub type and he says that most jocks/twinks that are into him and are tops are passive tops. But physically, we were more than compatible. Fuck he's hot. So we ended up trying again. And this time he brought an electro toy that he's trying out for the first time. I just had to remind him that zero was also a setting. I mean, the anticipation is just as effective as the stimulus itself. And I have made inroads to breaking him from being pee shy. But the air was that of experimentation instead of a script of actions. That was the difference. So yes, name it and I've tried it. Piss, sounding, scat, fisting, spanking, flogging, bondage, humiliation... But don't expect me to just be a conduit, cause I'm gonna be a active facilitator as I lead you to those edges so that we can explore them together.

Entertainment?

I didn't take him too seriously because his handle is "Bored as fvck" and I don't think he realizes how much of an insult it is to read that. He's basically saying, "I'm only chatting with you because I have nothing better to do so I order you to entertain me."

The name

I was gonna punch his number and address into my contact list when I realized something with quite a bit of embarrassment. We've chatted for about a year and we've already met once but I have no idea what his name is. So I messaged him.

"So... My body knows you. And each of my five senses can describe you. From the dense forest of your forearms to the scratch of your beard to the soft scent of soap when I nuzzle your lap, from that booming baritone voice that needs no artificial amplification to that delicate taste when we kiss. I can probably even trace your silhouette blindfolded. Couple that with our conversations and I can even paint a distinct picture of you through time: mind, body, soul. I know you, but my mind hasn't pulled all that identity and packaged it together in a name..."

Like Michaelangelo's muse, his name is David.

The cop

I remember one of you asking about the cop...

Asianese

So, I remember being the editor of the school paper and the articles I got were written they way they spoke, which often meant that it wasn't grammatically correct. But when I re-read some of my blog posts, I cringe at my battle of verb-subject agreement. Like "she see" instead of "she sees". And if I write the way I speak, then I must sound fresh off the boat. Then I get annoyed that I'm using a derisive term that favors assimilation and generational distance from immigration. I similarly get annoyed when a guy tries to pick me up and starts asking "where I'm from". And the reason I'm annoyed is because I can't figure out if I'm annoyed that the person asking is assuming I'm either an immigrant or first generation American and thereby ignoring the fact that Asians have been here for awhile, helping build the transcontinental railroad, subject to internment camps during WWII, popularized the adjective "inscrutable"... Or if I'm annoyed at myself for wanting to disown my heritage and say quite proudly that I'm an American born in the Midwest and raised in California. But yeah, I probably shouldn't be surprised that my own feelings echo the same tortured state the nation is currently facing towards race, ethnicity and immigration.

Shorter cubs

Okay, so I've been fighting it for awhile just because I don't like being pigeonholed into one thing. I love shorter cub types. Honestly, I practically love anything with a dick, but gotta love the cubs. I just feel kinda weird about it because it's a "thing" now and it's weird that my tastes are popular now...

Happy New Year!

Thought I'd start off the new year with a task for ya. Don't worry. It's a fun one!

One of the few people that know me in person and also knows about this blog tagged me on twitter with a nice pic of his ass.  I decided to return the favor (albeit, several weeks later) and took a pic with the best approximation of his pose I could do (just not with the nice artistic natural lighting)...  He tagged his fuzzybuns while I tagged mine smoothbuns.  Anyone else care to throw theirs into the mix?

Try snapping a pic of yourself in the same pose and reply with the results. Let's see that ass!