Compliments

I typed it out on my phone and mentally kicked myself. I was complimenting a guy and totally exaggerated my thoughts to comic proportions. It came off as a line, cheesier than a French crémerie. It's hard. It's hard to accept a compliment. Hard to not devalue a person's perception of you, hard not to stomp on a person's risk at laying their feelings out there for you by deflecting it with words of self-deprecation. Two words come so hard right after a compliment: thank you. And I'm starting to see that I also have a tough time giving one without curbing some of that risk of self-exposure with some comic relief that woefully undermines the true intent. Hence, the lazy and cheesy line. It's almost as if the beauty of a compliment is that it happens at all with all the forces working against it from both sides. So I'm forcing myself to cherish it. Cherish that feeling that compels me to give one and honor that feeling when one is moved enough to verbalized that feeling towards me.

Latin cub

Here's the cub from this post: http://anothercheater.blogspot.com/2014/09/dc-part-i-latin-cub.html

Definitions

Funny how things themes kinda pop out at you all of a sudden as if by coincidence. Couple days in a row now where I've met guys that used the Clinton definition of sex.

First it was this incredibly cute otter kid. Just turned 22 and still has a very boyishly twink body. He had me over his place. Actually, I should correct that by saying his parents' place. And he kinda freaked out when I came up his doorstep when a truck went by with what might have been his dad, to which he's not out to. Oiy. Anyway, after a long hour of making out and blow jobs back and forth he looks at me and asks if I brought condoms the jumps off me to ransack his brother's room for one. Apparently he surprised himself by asking as he doesn't usually have sex with guys he's barely met. That struck me as completely odd. I mean, I'm pretty sure your dad would say that me sticking my dick in your mouth is sex.

Then a married guy texts me the next day. Earlier in the week, I took his anal cherry and he shot like crazy so he took the plunge and is addicted. I fucked another load out of him today after trying several positions. Turns out he's just "meh" about sucking cock, love missionary, riding me is a good second and doggie he can do without. Weird cause I really forced him to make out with me even though he didn't want to and I'd think doggie would be the least distracting since he's not staring at my mug while I'm prodding his prostate wth my cock. Anyway, afterwards he tells me that he thinks he's just into the sex. I wasn't sure what he meant but he was saying he didn't like oral too much and doesn't find guys all that much of a turn on. In other words, he just wants cock up his chute and I'm being used as a living dildo. Not that I mind. I'm actually kinda hoping he talks to his wife and let's me join them. I definitely don't mind being used as a sexual prop.

But I came to realize this. For some reason, these guys find it easier to say "sex" when they really mean "fucking", i.e. "I don't usually fuck on the first meet" and "I'm not into oral, I just really like getting fucked" 'cause come on. Putting my knob down your throat is still sex! Kinda like a rated R sentiment toned down for PG-13 sensibilities. Both guys are kinda young in their own way - one in age another in his sexual experience. Just wonder when the word "fuck" is gonna roll off their tongue carefree like me, the dirty whore that I am.

GeekyCub

He's appeared in these pages a number of times, usually with a third in the picture as we're both tops. And I'm always jealous of how his pics always shows off the best of him and how quintessentially bearish he is.

Patterns

So I'm struggling on whether to publish this one partially because it involves someone that may or may not stumble across this entry.  Actually, it involves a couple of people.  Nothing bad.  All good on their part.  Just not sure what it means about me and whether or not I can get at the root of what I'm feeling without tainting it in a favorable light under the lens of a perceived potential reader.

A couple of flashbacks:

First was an attempt well over a decade ago to make some new platonic friends that would help me explore the music scene that was flourishing in Silverlake (I think technically it's Silver Lake, but everyone says it like one word and it just fits into my mind as one word).  Spaceland (which is now The Satellite) was within walking distance of my house.  Pretty sure this was right before FYF started in Echo Park.  Anyway, I met a guy on gay.com that worked at Amoeba Records and it was cool.  Just a slight hint of sexual tension to keep things interesting and just generally a nice guy.  So we decided to hit up Spaceland together when some electroclash band was playing (I forget which) and he see's a guy at the bar that he knows and introduces me.

"This is Bruce.  He has a 'straight job'." And they proceeded to make scrunchy faces at each other like I just farted.  And he didn't mean straight job as in rough trade.  No.  I'm a nine to fiver.  Corporate.  One of "those people",

Second was something I already wrote about. Where I was in a glaring contest between a trick's roommate because my dress slacks and button-front shirt offended his sensibilities.  

Then there was this time I was complimenting another blogger on his pic and he mentioned his fashion-driven boyfriend says the shirt he was wearing in the pic was kinda douchy.  Yeah...  I guess.  But then I thought about it and checked my closet and was like, "Holy fuck!  I'm a yuppie!  When did that happen?!"  Yeah, there were the occasional fun things in there like suspenders and a Bert and Ernie shirt but it was pretty monochromatic and dull in there.

So finally, when I was talking to this other fellow blogger on the phone, he asked what I did.  I told him and his response: "Wow, I don't think I could ever do that." 

I immediately felt myself become a little defensive.  Partially because I admire this guy.  He has strikingly complex views and is following a path that compliments those views to surprising results, including a profession that's both unconventional yet not wholly uncommon.  Or perhaps his attitude transforms the work.  The other part that made me defensive is this constant struggle to suggest that conventional professions do not equate to conventional thoughts.  I got lazy and put his comment into a pattern that I found myself in over and over, this fight to put forth that empathy and beauty comes from everywhere, from the center and the fringes.  I love Allen Ginsberg but I also love Wallace Stevens.  Beatniks and the corporate execs.

Of course, this wasn't what the blogger was implying at all.  He was merely saying that he couldn't see himself doing what I do.  There wasn't any judgement other than the self-evaluation of success within a different framework.  But it nagged me just a little for a split second, because it plays with an unresolved issue in my mind: this post-modern struggle from the collapse of the commercial to the artistic.  Do I do what I do because it's what I do best?  Or is what I do guided by the market?  And that authenticity is just impossible to see through all the patterns that shroud it.

And if you're wondering what he does, he's an escort.  And after reading my blog, he called me a "pornographer" with such positive musical tones I kinda wanted him to say "brussel sprouts" to see if it makes them more palatable.

Cum-slick hole

This guy on Grindr had a photo of him in a harness in his profile pic. Yeah, sounds like my type of guy. When I hit him up, he was already on his way to another fuck so I told him I wanted sloppy seconds.

And apparently I fucked him so well that I dragged much of my load and the previous out at the end. A river of it came out his ass and dripped onto the sheets and onto the floor.

I was strutting a little when he messaged me after saying I was the best fuck he's ever had. Probably overstating it but I'll take it anyway.

(The pic of the sheets were from the session - the others he sent me to entice and invite over.)

Back when I was more of a bottom...

Back when I was more of a bottom, I played with this guy... And over the 10 plus years that I've known him we've become good play buds... And he even knows about this blog.

Yeah, that's us playing in the first pic... Over seven years ago...

We don't get together quite as much anymore. I think part of it is that I'm just not that much of a sub anymore. But we've been chatting about sharing some of our playmates, so stay tuned!

The return of the (former) virgin

The younger kid that I talked into a little threesome jerk off session swung by again. This is our fourth time together and he seems to have dropped his guard down a little more each time. When I asked him what he was interested in trying, he couldn't give an answer. He said he honestly wasn't sure. Having a very conservative background I'm sure doesn't help. And he watches porn, from what I can figure out. But he just hasn't let himself openly determine his curiosities without self-imposed censorship so asking him to verbalize them to another person is a couple steps beyond reach.

Then another time we were together, he confesses after I've already dropped a load in him that he'd have been perfectly content just making out all day with me. And then finally this time, he tells me as he's riding my cock that he feels incredibly good getting fucked. I haven't done anything different. I'm still the only one he's been with in this respect. I think he's just finally allowed himself to enjoy himself.

But I still can't get him to cum, although he tells me he has a light trigger when he's on his own with his favorite site pulled up flashing images of bodies in front of him. And he tells me he's answered just a few more Craigslist ads, but he gets discouraged when they reject him...

I want desperately to be there when he sheds the last of his restraint that clouds the sexual intimacy he seeks, when he unapologetically asks for what pleases him, when he sees how beautiful he is and unabashedly accepts the gifts of praise that people shower on him. Cause I know that's gonna be a mind-blowing orgasm. And I'm a greedy one that wants to be the source of that explosion.

It's when...

... You find a platonic friend on an app and then he unlocks his pics for ya and you're like, holy fuck!

Favorite position...

So the other position I love for oral is a guy flat on his tummy sucking me while I lay back and enjoy... Which is kinda the opposite of actively fucking my tool down someone's throat like the other pic from the other day. But here I can enjoy the sensations on my dick and feast my eyes on the bottom's ass - two little globes jutting out obscenely inviting as the back arches to work on my cock.

Good morning...

I have this thing about watching guys when they sleep and they are the most vulnerable. Kinda creepy, huh?

This one guy and I have been chatting for well over a year when we first met. And then we met again. And again. And then I invited him to sleep over my in my hotel.

Pretty sure I wrote about him. Just not sure where that post is. I really should start tagging stuff...

Encounters of excess

I tell guys I'm a face guy. Faceless profiles that hit me up have an uphill battle holding my interest no matter how ripped the body or how skilled the hand is at the shutter to capture moments with inanimate objects or pleasant scenery. But at the same time, I sometimes struggle really hard to picture the guy's face when after a few months I come across the notes I jotted down from an encounter and am about to write it up for this blog.

This guy is an expat, living in central america, but back in the states to take care of some business that needed his physical presence. He had turned me down one night but then changed his mind in the morning. Turned out, he just had plenty of other offers. I might have been the first for him that morning, but he had taken a number of loads, two of them raw, from five tops the night before as a hotel PrEP whore. Both of us were still a little jet lagged, so I became raw load number three at 5 AM in the morning local time. My notes tells me that he's a handsome fella with a nice beard and salt and pepper hair, but what I remember most is his story of him having to take the backroad to the airport as the locals were protesting in the streets and shutting down roads and traffic. He barely made his flight.

And what struck me is two-fold. First, how as airplanes crisscross the sky, the passengers crisscross on the ground into a grid of experience as expansive as the known universe. And second, how I've indulged in such excess in comparison to those of others. Not just sex, but just life in general.

Throating

Love a guy that doesn't mind throating a dick...
and struggling a little to keep up...

Nooner story/stories

I said "Fuck it" to going into work for four hours before catching my flight. So instead, I treated to myself to a late morning casually chatting with some folks on Growlr and just generally dicking around until he messaged asking for a nooner. He's a guy I've been chatting off and on throughout my travels and it finally worked out where we both in the same area and both had time to meet. Tall bear of a man that's hairy all over. We spent a lazy hour in bed as my face explored his body, feeling his soft fuzz caress my cheeks as I inspected the peaks and valleys across his body. My hands typed a new frivolous chapter across his body, lightly strumming my fingers through his forest of hair to speak of fluid desire being flushed between us until I easily slipped my cock into him and fucked a load out of both of us. And as he laid there with his beard scratching at my chest as it rose and fell back into the rhythm of luxurious laziness, he rehashed previous chapters in his life. The battle with cancer. The boyfriend that suddenly calls it quits and moves out of state for a job opportunity. Even the job that asks him to sell products that he can't even demonstrate. Tales all told with the same easy bemusement that never detracted from the current moment, this moment of sheer indulgence. Just a casual stroll through memories, sharing them with me with careless abandon as he had just shared his body moments before.

Playing with the partner

Got a little frisky with the partner and my phone was closeby, so...

To yield, or not

I'm surprised that he's so close. He's riding the the edge of cumming for the past fifteen minutes even though he cock is only partially hard. Married guy in his late twenties. I answered his ad for a top as he complained on how every guy he meets wants him to fuck them. And when he walked through the door, I could understand why. He's a stud, all the way around. Excellent shape. Straight forward, dominant attitude. A guy that you wouldn't expect anyone to kick out of bed. In fact, you're kinda surprised how you became so lucky as to nab him, even for just a moment, in bed.

Despite his claims that he's an anal virgin, I didn't have much trouble working my covered cock into him. After eating him out for a bit, I slipped into him quite easily. I'm not gonna call him a liar though. I vividly remember his hole throbbing around my cock. The throb that I only feel with guys that normally don't bottom, and a throb that I could distinctly feel despite the condom killing some of the sensation.

But it's not how easily I got into him that I'm surprised. It's the fact that he's so damn close to cumming without even being fully hard.

He's trying to disconnect. Closed eyes. Just shutting me out. I don't let him get away with it. I lean in and with our lips just an inch apart, I make him notice. I make him notice how close I am to him. I make him give in.

And he kisses me.

With that, I wrap my one arm around him and with our lips still locked, I pull him to me while simultaneously leaning back until he's on top, riding me. Something about the combo gets him rock hard without any manual manipulation.

When I go to grab his stiff cock, his eyes panic as they stare directly into mine.

"No, don't! I don't want to cum with you inside me."

A wicked smile starts at the corner of my lips. I know why he says that. He's ultra sensitive after he cums and he fears that hypersensitivity in combination of my inches poking at his hole. And worse yet, the withdraw where he feels every ridge and vein of my hardness before his ass clenches down to prevent me from invading it any further.

I ignore him and grab him by the hips to rock him back onto my cock in such a way as to get the deepest into him. Then, with one free hand, I grab his cock and the minute my hand encircles his unit, he shoots involuntarily. My free hand keeps him down on my cock as I rock it into little jabs into him and before he finishes cumming, I rip it violently from his ass.

He rests on top of me unabashedly as he tries to catch his breath and regain composure.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Really tingly down there, but fuck that was amazing."

"I know what I'm doing..."

"Yeah, but, I've stuck things up there and it always feels terrible if I keep it inside when I cum."

"What have you used?"

Slight blush. "A cucumber".

Ha! "I'm not a cucumber."

Unfortunately, I never got a chance to show him how I can make an ass that has been broken in feel just as good as the first time.