Tuesday, September 29, 2009


You know I don't go way out of my way to promote other bloggers - now and again I do.

And you know if I like a blog, I add it to my blogroll. I never add them thinking it will get me more traffic (though if it does.....so be it...), but because I like their tales, their tails or their writing style. It's got to speak to me.

Not much more speaks to me than my newest add: iBLASTinside.

He started following me on Twitter and I returned the favor.

I don't know I inspired him to start a blog in the last few weeks, but he has. Mind you - he had a number of his stories already published out there on other sites and transferred them over to his blog, making for an instant back-log of writings to read for most (I'd already consumed most of those).

Our Twitter exchanges led to some email exchanges and with him I have a kindred spirit. And evil spirit to be sure, but kindred none the less. He's honest about what he does and who he is - mentally and physically. Like me. We both might even be a tad bit hard on ourselves, but I think that works to our advantage.

Check him out - at his blog or in Twitter.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Another Load Up My Butt

I do like when things turn around for me - sexually. Naturally for that to happen, I have to turn around - and bend over. But that's good for me. It's good for them. Ultimately, it is good for you, at least if you're a regular follower of this blog.

It's not a new guy, but Mr. Italian or some kind of Spanish who wanted another shot at me. Yes, pun fully intended. The plan was for another guy to be there also to tap my ass in tag-team fashion, but he canceled at the last minute. Me, being me, wondered if he was ever truly scheduled at all.

But I didn't really care. This daddy has a great cock - see ????

...and it isn't even fully hard in this here picture.

I love when a top tries to assert his power and leaves holes in logic a mile wide. "Bring lube!" he texts me. I'm already on the way - and coming from work. I do not have lube with me (I know - I'm a badly prepared bottom without some kind of trick bag in my car!) and tell him I'll have to stop for some but I'll be delayed. The response back is "no delays!!!!"

Bud - you can't have it one way or the other. The next message is, "I have lube". Whatever dude.

I dial the code to get buzzed in and head up to 507. One knock and the door opens. No ceremony, not fuss - I drop my pants and take my dress shirt off. I don't even start by sucking his cock but by laying back on this towel-covered ottoman.

He insisted on using what "little lube" he had left to grease MY dick up.

I didn't want that to happen for a number of reasons - the main one being I didn't want to be tempted to stroke a nice oil-based lubed cock while getting fucked. I didn't want to be the one to cum, though he said he wanted to see me get off.

I know it is unreasonable, but I find the tops power to be diminished when he gives me the permission or wants me to cum. As with this guy, I found the scene to be - he gets off and he kicks me out. Period. I'm not looking for something more.

That being said - it makes for a good picture, but because I do have a nice cock. I can see why other guys want to suck it or bend over for it. I wish it were more of my deal, but it is not.

Mr. Italian did want me to suck him some. So I obliged. That is what I'm there for.

It was hard to suck him and use my camera at arm's length to get this half-assed shot, but in reality, I was never going to show you more anyway. You know I have lips, a chin and facial hair, but you've always known that. And usually when you see that, you see a prick in my mouth.

Soon I was lying back on the ottoman, but he wanted me on all fours. But this time I wanted to be on my back. Yeah, I'm a pushy bottom. He gave in and gave it to me.

I'll give him this, Daddy is always right. The position was a bit uncomfortable for me, not from my back or angle, but man he fucked hard that way and I think since I defied him a bit on which way to get fucked, he was making me pay the price. After about 20 minutes of this......

...we both realized he wasn't going to get off this way. He pulled out, went and opened a window, re-greased up and had me bend over the way he wanted me in the first place.

Invariably, it was a better position for both of us. My flexibility allowed me to have my ass up, my shoulders down and even take my hands to the floor to brace myself for the onslaught that was his fucking style.

From this angle I could also look over my left shoulder a bit up into a series of three wall mirrors and see his face in pure bliss as he pumped my butt. He was loving it and concentrating at the same time. He wanted to come and in our original angle, he wasn't hitting his spots or strides.

I made sure to use my muscles to massage that shaft of his, and I could tell he would respond to that - with verbals and non-verbals.

He is verbal when he comes, but not with words. More with sounds. That's ok. I knew I was getting it anyway. And I got a big load. The kind you could just feel. And like last time, he never paused to let it shoot - he just keep pushing it in with each thrust and the continual fucking.

Like last time, he pulled out and like I walked in, in reverse, I grabbed my pants and shirt and put them on with almost no words and I was out the door. About the only thing missing was the $50 left on the dresser for me.

I'll be back as long as he'll have me back. Here's hoping he has those friends who want to dump their nut too.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009


Yes, I've been 'outed' here and there - as a blogger. A porn blogger. A sexual deviant. A slut. Call it what you will.

Yes, I've been 'stalked' - but not really. My guest blogger claims to be a stalker of mine, but he's not. Not really. As far as I know anyway....he's never been to my town and I know I've never been to his - except at 80 mph on Amtrak.

And this isn't a blog stalking - this is a Manhunt stalking story.

The other night I was on MH (shock - right?) and I get a message saying (and I will paraphrase):

"you look a lot more fit in person than in your pictures".

I should have let it go - right? But I didn't. I asked the reporter questions: when? who? where? why?

The guy described me to a T on what I was wearing at the gym that very night. ...and how I must have lost a TON of weight. (he upper-cased the 'ton'.) Yes, sweet talking me like that will most certainly get you into my pants.

For the record, I was never fat, but I have lost a bit of weight, but not a ton. Not even 20 pounds. The difference is, I'm more fit. More muscle. Less - dough.

Now, he could have seen me through a door, as for this night in question I was in a class - not just in a weight room. There is a glass door in said class. But I had to press....and he mentioned something about what and how I was doing in this class.

I'm not a guy who gets unnerved easily - and I wasn't now. But then he mentioned that HE was in my class. I never got if he went into it because of me or just was a coincidence. I decided I didn't want to know.

He did throw out - 'you disappeared right after class'. Um....yeah, I had to get home and, oh - I didn't know you were stalking me, so I didn't realize I was supposed to wait around.

Now I'm at a quandary. I had every intention of going to class tomorrow evening when I got a message last night saying: 'you weren't in class tonite'. Yes, I skipped Tuesday's class due to other obligations. But now I know he's in my class - maybe for me, maybe not.

I'm not egotistical - and you'd hardly know it from this blog, but I am a bit discrete. I know a number of people at the gym and in this particular class - do I really want this kind of attention?

I really don't think I do. And I'd really hate to give up my routine.

What to do? WHAT to do?

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Another Warehouse Visit

As you might have read in previous installments, I've been becoming a pseudo-regular at this warehouse south of downtown.

It's infrequent, but I'm assuming that's what keeps things somewhat fresh and a little exciting. Mind you - I want more. I always do.

The guy (I have gotten no, and asked for no name) is a married man, mid 40s, blonde hair and a nice 7.5" thick piece of meat. See?

I took this late last week - in picture form and in my mouth.

The more I want of course, would be for him to put it in my ass. But right now he's either not interested or getting the hint. The how could he miss it? Last week he asked if I really liked sucking cock (DUH!). My response was: "I like getting fucked more!".

The last few times he's buzzed me in and I've come up to the administrative offices. If you've ever been in a warehouse setting, you normally know that even those aren't great offices. They are working men with working offices. There are not leather chairs, secretaries outside the office, no suits, no ties.

This last time I got there and the door was propped open. I wasn't too worried as his was the only car there. I wasn't expecting to be surprise attacked. Instinctively, I knew to unprop the door and shut it.

There I noticed the next door was open to the warehouse, and I knew not to go upstairs. I walked into the working man's domain. And there, at the end of a long line of stocked shelves and crates was my feeder, completely naked. Completely hard.

At first I wasn't sure if he had set the nice piece of cardboard on the dirty floor, or if that's just a remnant of the working environment. There was also a step latter on wheels where I'm sure guys could grab stuff off those aforementioned shelves.

I walked over and he told me to strip. I loved the idea of being naked in such a place. Glasses, tie, suit, everything came off. I went to my knees - but only for a few. He stood up on that latter and with me standing, we were cock to mouth. It was a nice touch.

Those were just a few shots of me going down on him. The first one was before I stripped off my shirt, but other than that, I was naked. We were.

The guy has such a great cock - but he's a bit quick on the trigger. Mind you - he probably needed to be home to the wife and kids for dinner. And mind you - he was fucking some faggot's face in his workplace, so he might have good cause to finish up early.

But I do love scenes like this/that.

His cum was ok. Not as big of a load as I'd like, but I'm kind of a greedy pig that way. But of course, I made a show of me swallowing it. You know how guys, especially the married ones, love their juice not being wasted. And I love not wasting it.

Maybe my dry spell is over for a bit. Here's hoping. I need this. I think you want this - as loyal readers, you deserve more.

I'm here to help. : )

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Back to Being Fucked

I have finally broken my dry spell. It's been long enough - eh?

Yeah, I've been getting head quite a bit lately. Now and again I've even given it - and while I love doing that (and swallowing), it's seemed all mechanical. Maybe I've set too high of standards to relay decent events to this blog. I feel I owe you more than the mundane.

A reader suggested I write fictional accounts and no one would be the wiser. The joke is: I would be. It's hard enough to write the real events let alone made-up ones. So right now, I'm sticking with either my sex life or my past one (like you read about last post).

So onto this encounter.

This guy (really - no name offered or asked) has been after me for about the last two years. We've never been able to hook-up for two main reasons: my travel schedule and his wife. Or, I should say - then wife.

My travel is now curtailed (as you well know) and his marriage is in the process of ending. He has a place of his own now and we utilized that earlier this week. We had trouble with timing the first day, but I was out of my office early on Tuesday so I could take his cock up my ass. That is what he wanted That is what he has wanted since day one.

To be honest, I was skeptical of him. His pics were nice (no face), but some I had seen other places, so I was never sure he was representing himself. But he talked a great game and well..............I hadn't had a cock up my ass for a long long time. Who am I to be picky?

At work, I found a remote bathroom to clean out good. He wanted that. I wanted it more. I then made my way to his apartment in 30 minutes where he buzzed me in. I knocked and waited, hoping I wasn't going to get some kind of troll.

The guy was no model, but he wasn't horrible by any means. A little heavier than "his" pictures portrayed, but he had a manly face, darkening moustache and salt and pepper hair - on head and rest of his face.

He had a Mediterranean thing going on - as I said to my guest blogger later that day, he was Italian or Greek...or a blend. He came right back with a Family Guy line, which made me laugh: "The hot chick who was Italian or some kind of Spanish.." ...as read by Betty White.

The plan was for him to breed my ass. Nothing about oral - just how he wanted up my butt. I could live with that. He said he had 8", but I wasn't sure. He wanted to restrain me too, but I hate giving up control and especially with someone I have not been with or met. I don't believe safe words exist when someone really wants to do harm.

"Strip" he said when I walked in. He dropped his pants and his dark complected dick was about 4" long - but it was soft. The coloring may have come from the fact that his dick and balls were bound up at least two different ways. I guess he was into restraints on me and on some of him. That's cool.

As I took off my clothes, I head him mutter, "nice!" as my shirt dropped. Secretly, I was thrilled that the last year at the gym had really been paying off, but he didn't need to know that. The pants came off, as did the boxer briefs. Then I was just standing in his living room - barely 4' from his door when he pointed to the floor.

Where I dropped my suit and dress shirt was right next to a table that he had laid out his leather restraints. I knew he wouldn't really use them, but I also know the psychology behind a guy like that want me to know that they are there. It was duly noted.

I sat my ass on his plush carpet and he put his soft cock in my mouth. It might have been him, it might have been my skills, but he didn't stay soft long. And he did grow to that 8". And it was fat! The best of both worlds.

He made me put my hands behind my own head so I wouldn't play with myself. He placed his hands there too. Then the face fucking began. It really wasn't a blowjob as much as an assault on my lips, mouth and throat. It worked for both of us. He was aggressive and actually made me gag once or twice, but I think that was more from the angle than anything. I'm a fairly skilled feallatist. Sure I brought my camera - I almost always do. I wasn't sure he'd be into it, but he was. He took a half dozen shots of his cock in my mouth or on my face. You get one shot here - and even that is edited out to protect the innocent.

None of this lasted long. He wanted the main event - and so did I.

He had already laid out a towel over an oversized leather ottoman in front of his couch. I was instructed to lean over it but not on it. He wanted my ass to be more in line with his cock as he stood behind me. He took out his Gun Oil, coated himself up, and positioned himself at my awaiting hole.

I won't lie - the first penetration was painful. That's what I get going for months of not being fucked. No one to blame but myself. To his credit, he held it there for a minute before sinking all the way in. With some breathing - I adjusted quickly and the fucking began.

The fucking, as it should be, was for him and him alone. I was the recipient, but not a partner in any way. I was there to fulfill a need - but I knew that from the word 'go', when I agreed to show up. Of course, I had a need too - and I was getting it. But since he didn't care about my needs or wants, why bother telling him. I was there for him.

I took the pounding like a good boy. Never once did I touch my cock, but never once could I. The way I had to position myself took both hands. Now and again, he'd reach to my chest and play with my nipples, which of course, I fucking LOVED. He never broke stride in his pumps. I don't know if he always fucked this hard or not, but if so, I could see why his wife might have not been happy. I suspect it was just years of pent of sexual frustration coming out.

He'd pull out to the edge of my hole and push it hard all the way back in. Then he'd grind and pull my hips back onto him - not that there was any way to get deeper, but I'll give him props for trying.

Finally I did say I had to lean onto the towel-covered ottoman. I couldn't keep myself propped up like that anymore. His body weight and sunk down onto it with me, never leaving my ass. His hairy torso went right onto my back. Now there was no where for me to go and he knew it. He just drilled me into the ottoman.

We were about 20 minutes into the ass-fucking at this point and he was sweating up a storm. So was I. I think he could control his orgasm at will - which is great, but I didn't know if he'd cum in 2 minutes or 40. At that point, I'm not sure I cared. As it turns out, it was closer to 6-8 more minutes.

He had me hanging so far off the ottoman, my head was almost to the floor, but away he kept sliding up my ass. Or his. He was making it his ass. He continually told me how he wanted to mark it - and to send me home with his load up me. He made it clear there'd be no cleaning up afterward - that I was to get my stuff on and get the fuck out.

As he fucked, he also mentioned some buds who'd love to fuck an ass like this. I said, "bring it on!".

That might have been what sent him over the edge. Unlike some guys who will stop to let their load flow into you - this guy just kept pumping as hard as ever as he shot his semen into my guts. Maybe he wanted it drilled WAY up there. Either way, it worked for me. He came for a long time and admittedly he said he had a 3-day load and always shoots big.

He stayed in me for maybe a minute before extracting his fat cock out of my hole. While there wasn't a popping sound, there was a popping feel. It felt great, but I felt so full and so empty at the same time.

He somewhat chatted with me, but per earlier instructions, I went right to my clothes to get out of there with no fanfare. The door was shut behind me and I walked to the elevator with a butt full of jizz.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Followed. Fucked.

Honest, I have not abandoned this blog. Between work and other stuff, I've just not been hooking up the way I want to - or the way you deserve to read. Yeah, I've been feeding a bit, but it appears many don't want to hear all of that. ....but we'll see.

But I figured I have other stories - from my past. Nothing too recent, but of interest perhaps?

I was studying on campus and headed back to my crappy efficiency apartment on South Campus. As I was halfway home, I noticed a dark blonde haired man with at the time, requisite porn/clone moustache. ...and a nice worn leather coat. He noticed me too.

Enough so that in a few minutes, I found him following me - though he had no idea where I was going.

I'm not a paranoid man. Actually, I can be quite calculating, so I thought I'd play this out a little to see if he was truly interested. I stepped into a record store to see what there was to see (and to be seen). He stepped in also - not even really trying to scan music, but standing in sections so he could get a good view of me....and me of him. I think it was a go.

I headed out and he followed. I took a route that went up two alleys to the entrance of my building. He stayed behind at a decent distance, but he never stopped or gave up. I could hear him on the steps as I made my way up to the third floor walk-up. There was never anyone around in this building. In the year I lived there, I never met or saw one neighbor. Weird.

So he's behind by a number of paces and I just key into my apartment and leave the door cracked. Enough for him to know it's not an accident, but not blatant enough to look easy. HA!

The man is not shy - clearly. At this point, we've covered 25 minutes and 3/4 of a mile. He opens my door, enters, shuts and locks the door. I don't even turn around, as I'm standing at my desk/table looking at the mail. I know he's there and he knows I know. Neither of us are stupid.

I feel him behind me and without a word, he reaches around and undoes the buckle of my pants and then drops them to the floor. He doesn't have to do anything else. I bend slightly enough and put both hands on the desk to brace myself. I can hear the buttons on his 501s pop one by one.

I'm sure there was spit. He never left my side and I don't think he had lube with him. But soon enough he was placed at my ass and he started to push in. I held on to the table and let him do it. Still no words were said - but clearly we both knew from the moment we spotted each other who this would end up.

There was nothing long about this fuck. He had an average length dick, but it seemed fat. He plugged away and while there were no words, there were sounds. His grunts, my moans. Nothing loud. Luckily. I know the walls were fairly thin at a place like this.

He grunted loudly and I knew he was unloading. I didn't do a thing to stop him (as if!). Like some sort of public sex scene - it was just over. He pulled out and buttoned up and walked out. Never a word was spoken. I just took in his sperm.

In another place and time, I would have thought it was a dream or figment of my imagination, but I know it wasn't.

...and about six months later, he fucked me in one of the campus building. Similar scenario. But in stall, one is expected to not say anything and just do your business.

I will say, after that, I never saw him again.