Monday, March 27, 2006

Am I Wrong??? find a convicted killer and death row inmate hotter than fuck??? bone up in my pants when I saw his pic in the paper???

Too fuckin' bad! OZ would have been tame compared to what we could have done!

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Humiliation's the name of the game. Does it mean anything to you?

The other day broke this seemingly endless dry spell. But at what cost??

Lately I've kind of lived or died by the on-line hook-up., men4sexnow and craigslist. All have their pluses - but many many minuses. Or maybe I'm just forgetting how all those same categories are at the bars, baths or bathrooms. It's just a little easier to misrepresent oneself via the internets. I'm sure I'm guilty of it to a degree.

However, I don't take license w/my age, weight or height. I mean, why bother? If you get together, don't you think the other person will notice. I'm guessing it's so you WILL get together and HOPE the lying guy hopes 'oh well, we're here why not....'. yeah yeah yeah. I get it.

Yesterday though - oy. The pic represented in the posting was decent. I wasn't expecting someone this short of a candidate for gastric bypass. I just like knowing what I'm walking into. I've done overweight guys before. Just a major misrepresentation.

The house reeked of pot (not that I judge - it just took me a long time to kick some habits). His nipples were like big used gumdrops. It wasn't pretty. Less pretty was me having to duck under his belly just to get to his cock. All 6" of it (again, presented better in the pic).

I was there. I could have walked away - but I was there. I'd been dry for weeks. I may have broken drug habits - but not a cock/cum one. A buddy who likes to goad me on knew I was going there. He had me use my cellphone to dial him @ work so he could hear me sucking the guy off. Though the volume didn't work well (the feeder wasn't a talker) and my mouth was full. But I liked the idea of someone knowing what I was doing.

Luckily (?) my mouth was full when the guy asked " I as good as I look in the pictures?". W/an mouth full of cock - I didn't have to lie (not that I'm above that), nor did I have to hurt his feelings and tell him the truth.

Oh - and it only took maybe 10 min....but he flooded my mouth. But I don't remember any cum I've ever taken to be chunky. I'm not talking thick.....i'm talking CHUNKY. Bits in the sperm. It was not pleasant. At all!

It's been a long time since I've felt dirty and disgusted w/myself and my actions.....but this get together kind of brought it all flooding back. I am what I am!

Saturday, March 18, 2006


I thought this was a kind of neat thing. Below is my Blog Cloud. The site is a bit intrusive, as it searches through my already written blog entries and pulls out words here and there. You can actually go in and delete/substitute words you don't want to show up, but I like the randomness of it all.

I did not, however, pay $22 to get a t-shirt made of image. (the words cheap, crowbar, jew, miser do not appear in my cloud!)

Friday, March 17, 2006

My First Gay Bar

...another in a series of first-times for a sex addict!

After having sex w/a few men at this point and shoplifting male magazines (which told me about things like gloryholes, restrooms, parks, etc) I decided to try a gay bar. I'm not sure how I came to this conclusion - but I did.

I was a resourceful kid. Remember - these were the days before the internet. I found in the white-pages a 'gay hotline'. It was a resource for troubled souls who needed guidance. That wasn't me. A guy on the line (Greg, I remember) told me about a number of bars. He gave me names - and these were listed in the white pages as well. These places were called things like 9 of Hearts, Keys, Illusions! UGH. Even at 17 I knew they were lame. But then one struck a chord: Sumpter Trucking Co. That was the one.

Dowtown was a good 30 min drive - so I had to figure out where it was and how to arrange being away from my parents. Again, using my wiles - I hatched a plan: I worked at a restaurant that turned into a bar after dinner. I bussed tables and barbacked (no - not barebacked........well, that's not true either) until 2:30a when the bar closed - and then it was usually until 4a before all was cleaned up. My parents never expected me home before 3:30a at the earliest.

One night, at work, I conveniently got ill around 11p. Instead of going home - I headed downtown. As smart as I thought I was, I had at least two things to learn:
  • Don't go to a gay bar on a Monday night
  • Don't go to a levi/leather bar dressed in a yellow Polo shirt, chinos and Topsiders (the uniform I had to wear to work - it was a very preppy town)

There were 5 guys in the bar - including the bartender and myself. Besides the bartender, I was also the youngest guy there by - ohhhh - 4 decades. Sitting at the end of the bar, I believe I was approached by each and everyone of those guys. SHOCK! . Each at some point and time bought me a beer. That'd be a third lesson. Don't drink 4 beers quickly on an empty stomach when you're 17. You get tipsy!!!!

The bartender kept an eye out on me making the guys back off somewhat. Though the guys didn't interest me, I did want to see what was in the bar, backrooms, etc. But I was nervous and ventured nowhere.

I only knew the bar I worked at closing at 2:30p. But by 12:30, the bartender started to shut stuff down. He hustled the guys out - but not me. He said I could stay until he broke down the bar. I don't know if he knew I was underage or not. Maybe I was just closer to his age. I'm guessing he was early 30s. Decent enough looking. Dark hair/beard. Leather vest. 501s.

He came and sat next to me - and chatted. Eventually his hands were on my thigh. His tongue in my mouth. I reciprocated.

At some point, tipsy turned into drunk. He showed me around the bar. There was no backroom as I had imagined. There was - but it wasn't what you'd think. Just an out of the way room for a pool table. Before I knew it was sitting on the edge of that table making out w/the bartender. Before I knew it he had my pants off and I was still on the edge of said table.

If you really stretch your imagination - you'll figure out that I eventually was on my back on that pool table and not taking the cue. His cue - yes. Tsk Tsk Tsk on him for taking advantage of a drunken minor!!!! .

What I remember was enjoyable. Afterward (or during?) we exchanged names. To be honest - I kind of heard it. Kind of didn't. Kind of didn't care. He started being really sweet afteward. Yes- honest to g-d, it was a turn off. Excuse me - you just closed early to fuck a 17 yo on a pool table!!!!

After closing up - he walked me to my car. Asking to see me again! I said maybe. He asked if I remembered his name - and I was still drunk mind you - and said what I thought it was - 'Mary'. After acting like a huge queen (or Mary) he said 'BARRY'. ooops on my part.

I did go back the next Monday. Another fuck. Then next week I left for college.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006


I know I haven't blogged any sexual adventures lately. I haven't had any new ones in a week - and no new ones on the horizon. But that is what is so great about sex - you just never know.

Anyone who is in 'it' just for the sex can find themselves at unexpected times helping out another guy in one form or another. Usually in a place you weren't expecting at a time that you wouldn't imagine.

I am, however, always preoccupied by sex. Always.

I can't be the only one - right? I mean - I'm the kind of guy who meets anyone and thinks about their dick (well..if they're a guy) even if I have no attraction to them. I'm the kind of guy who will check out every public restroom in a store, even if I don't have to go the bathroom. I'm kind of guy who will peruse personals in other states/cities to see what kind of guys are out there looking. Gay and straight.

I am the guy who can have a hard-on most of the day and play with it occasionally under my desk. Not necessarily take it out, but rub it at the very least.

Some are confused that I should be having sex to keep the title of this blog going - but as any recovering alcoholic or substance abuser will tell you: once and addict, always an addict.

The behaviour might be modified, but the thought and intent are still there.

My behaviour is modified by circumstance alone - namely - who is available and when. My intent is always there. Always.

Monday, March 13, 2006


...but doesn't mean I shouldn't try to entertain your.

Grab Your Dick and Double Click

Thursday, March 09, 2006


A 3.5 wk dry spell has come to a halt. As unfortunate as these dry spells are - they are not uncommon - at least for me. I'm sure it's a confluence of events, whether they be work related, personal life intruding on sex life (yes! those are separate most of the time) or just slim pickins.

I had an offer via that I thought I'd have to pass up due to my father's hospitalization. As much of a cad as I can be in the sexual world, overall I can clean up nicely and have a very professional side and a loyal family streak, even though the family can put one's nerves on edge.

Since there was nothing I could do for my father, except to chat w/him at his bedside - which I had done the previous three evenings - I gave myself the night off and accepted this guy's offer to service him.

Having not true idea what he looked like or wanted, I headed off to his place. He was not bad looking...maybe 6' & 200 lbs. A close close close blonde buzzcut and about 6" of fat meat. He was also a man of few words...which is fine since I wasn't looking for conversation. We got right to business.

Up in his bedroom (yawn) I went to my knees. I gave him some pretty enthusiastic head. Let's face it - it's been awhile. I probably wanted it more than he did. G-d knows I needed it!

As dirty talk goes, this guy had one phrase: "fuck yeah!". I'll give it up to him that at least he knew how to pull that one off. Say it dirty like he meant it. I can live w/that.

I think I only got in about 10-15 minutes of cocksucking before he wanted to eat my ass. THAT I did not see coming. Even most guys who wanna fuck me rarely eat my hole. But who was I turn him down? He ate it pretty good too, I must admit. And if I haven't relayed it here before the two things that get me to spread my legs faster than anything is a guy playing w/my nipples and a guy eating my hole.

He had me moaning soon enough. I'm sure some would think it manipulative, but I try to make sounds and gestures to get a guy to fuck me. Let him think it was his idea. ...and it might very well be his intention - but it's important for the top to think he's the smart one of the bunch. The aggressor. I'm probably giving away too many bottom secrets here (or at least mine). He took the signs - just as I figured he would.

The guy was prepared. Lube at bedside. No questions. Slick it up. Position it. Slide it in.

I'm always asked 'what position is your favorite?'. I hate that question. There is no right answer b/c almost always it's going to be different from the guy who is asking. And there is no right answer b/c there IS no answer for me. I'm one who can do it in any position..and like it. Yeah - I know my limits. If you want me to cum while you're fucking me - and me not touching myself, you have one option: me sitting on and riding you. That's it.

But this guy was all about the my legs pulled back, him over me, looking at me as he pumped me. His eyes were usually clenched. Probably trying to hold off or thinking of George Clooney or somoene. Who the fuck knows? Who the fuck cares? (ok.....maybe some think of Mark Feuerstein instead! WHAT? I got a thing for semetic men!)

His speed increased. His 'fuck yeahs' increased in amount and volume. I knew he was there. One last deep thrust and he stayed still as he unloaded. I stayed still as he unloaded. Ok - that's a lie. I worked those muscles to milk him. To make his eyes squeeze tighter each time I contracted.

I made it home in time for Lost......which ended up being a repeat anyway.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I'm Working On It !!!

Just give me time. Jeeeesh.

You Are 60% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side.
Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

Monday, March 06, 2006

A Brief Pause.......

I will get back to blogging - history and new encounters shortly. My father took ill over the weekend and I will attend to that today and possibly tomorrow. Should be back on track in the very near future.

Friday, March 03, 2006


I've often told guys who called me a 'whore' that they were wrong. My reply would be, "I'm a slut..........I never charge."

But while IM'ing w/Tallmaster, he jarred something in my memory that I had forgotten (maybe surppressed?). I did sell myself. Once. .....and then attempted, in a fashion, three other times.

The once was in college. I was 19. I answered some fucked-up ad - a guy pimping via the classifieds. Ok - I can't say I wasn't intrigued, and I was in college - so what college kid doesn't need the money??? And it was money for something I did for free anyway. I personally don't think all prostitution or porn is exploitation.

I answer the ad (days before internet). The guy (who is out of state, mind you) and I have a good rapport. To be honest - I don't think it will go anywhere. How is he gonna find johns in Columbus, OH?? Lo and behold, 2 days later he had something for me: two guys @ a hotel. The deal was - $120 in cash and I was to send the pimp 40% of it. I go there and the guys are middle-aged (couple? I don't know) and decent looking. No one knew exactly how to start. I think it was their first time hiring out as it was mine being hired. Nothing spectacular about the encounter at all. One guy fucked me while the other guy watched - then I blew the 2nd guy. They were good about the payment - as I was not sure how to ask for it. But on the drive home, I thought "hey, I have $120 bucks!" which is a shit load of money to a college student at any given time.

I'm sure I blew my chance at business - but I never sent the 40% to anyone. I kept it all.

But the opportunity came up again while I was doing an internship in NYC. Reading the Village Voice I came across a similar ad. I called. The guy told me to come over. I hopped a subway to the West Village and arrived at the appointed time (1op on a friday). The guy wasn't too bad looking and he went through any deal breakers of what guys he'd set me up with. Again, I was a broke student.

This guy was smart and had me try out - if you will. Maybe it was a scam - I don't know. He led me back into a room where some guy was waiting. Fat guy. Nekkid. He had me blow him. While I did, he pulled out his dick and pushed it into me. 9" of fat meat. I won't say I took it like a pro- but I proved I could do what was needed. I never got a call back for 'work'.

I tried to supplement my lack of income by 'auditioning' for two different adult movie companies. (To be honest - the movies weren't aboout money - but about the ego a scrawny 20 yo w/a big dick has and the desire for attention.) Again - VV ads directed me there. The one was ok. Express trains from Wall St to upper west side after work in a hurry to make my appt. Nothing exciting. Polaroids of my hard dick...and body. That was it.

The second one was more of the same. Some more detailed questions. I was pretty much told I wasn't of use to them though due to bacne. My face was pretty clear - but I had issues w/some nasty acne on my back. Though the guy interviewing me liked my still 8+". He just looked at it and licked his lips.

I could have gone along w/his suggestion - and maybe shot myself in the foot by putting it away and zipping up. But he had already dinged me as a candidate for work. So if he wasn't paying me - I wasn't giving it up.

I guess that made me a whore. Not a slut.