Monday, December 11, 2017

Ben 1

His 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.

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.

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.

I can't hold back anymore.

"You're around the corner. Do you have a garage, cause we need to sneak some playtime in. Right now."

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…

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

And 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…

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.

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.

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".

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.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Wrapped up in thoughts

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Saturday, October 29, 2016

When bloggers meet... (redo)

(Apparently some of the text got lost when I first published it so I'm redoing it...)

"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"

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.

I've followed James/JFBreak ( http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html ) 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.

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.

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.

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.

"Is the head in?" he asks.

"You're a lot further along than you think!"

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.

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.

Friday, October 28, 2016

When bloggers meet...

"You knew this was how we were gonna end up, huh?"

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.

I've followed James ( http://jfbreak.blogspot.com/2016/10/meeting-bruce-gay-stuff-ahead.html ) 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.

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.

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.


Friday, October 14, 2016

Strokes

"You know what would really get me going?" he asks. Almost sheepishly, reluctantly. I could almost hear the conflict in his voice, afraid to request, afraid to insist on his needs as he's used to subjecting himself to the will of others. The bottom that gives himself wholly to a top. And as the beneficiary of such attention I'm honored to give as much of it back.

We had started from the moment I walked into the door with a soft but frenzied kiss. And try as we might to practice a little restraint to actually introduce ourselves and slice a little civility into the barbaric lust between us, we only came up with half-finished phrases, a dull dinner knife trying to pry apart magnets that splinter into echoes of fragmented conceits.

One thing was clear though. He focused a lot of praise on the objects of his affection to the detriment of his own self, comparables that always left him deficient despite his stunning good looks. Beautiful eyes of various shades that danced and swirled over the iris, drawing you in. Ginger scruff that complemented those eyes. Broad shoulders. Capped with muscle. And triceps that naturally bulge into an inverted U. Dusting of soft fuzz across his muscular chest. Oh, and a magnificent cock that probably more than rivaled my own, bigger in both girth and length even in a semi-aroused state. Basically the quintessence of masculinity and he can't even see it in himself.

So as he sung his praises in me, I did my best not to deflect but to accept his strokes of my ego and I used that energy to send it right back, whispering his name to make him feel it reverberating to his core (yeah, I see you kiddo...), soft strokes along his back, lengthy flicks of the tongue down his back to the mounds of his ass, and using just the feast of hunger as lube - long, deep and insistent strokes of my cock as I fucked him until I shot my load deep inside.

And here I am, spent and panting, the recipient of such affections as he gave himself to me and I haven't given nearly as much back. So when he strikes up the courage to ask me to help him get off, I take it as a sign that I've finally gotten through to him that he deserves just as much attention as he doles out. So I reply, "Yes. I want to know more than anything right now."

"I... uh... would love to have your cock in my mouth right now..."

My cock is glistening with natural juices from our play and topped off with a pearl of cum still oozing from the tip. And I shoved it down his throat for him to nurse as his cock instantly hardened to a stiffness I haven't seen before. As my cock hardens again down his throat, he strokes with an urgency until he sprays us with his load.

And that totally gets me going.

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Can't, want

"I... I can't... I'm not ready..." he whispers, half in a plea and half in a sigh of resignation. He's conflicted, and it shows in his face. His legs are hooked over my shoulders and my cock is resting squarely against his hole with a mess of throat slime lubing him up enough so that my head starts to ease in. 

But I see it in his eyebrows, a semicolon of two opposing expressions of desire and concern, I read it between the lines that crease his forehead. He wants me inside him but he's afraid. He really isn't ready. Not in the sense that he hasn't cleaned out but in the sense that he isn't emotionally ready to give in to his desire. 

"Don't worry, kiddo. I get it," I say, playfully using the diminutive ironically as he's probably a half dozen years my senior.  And with a slight change in the angle of my hips, my cock slips from its target and glides up the valley between his legs.

His body shakes.  His legs tremble upon my shoulders from the explosion of sensation as I thrust the heat of my shaft against his ass. I want nothing but to put those pleading eyes at ease, to protect him from whatever harm he's trying to shield himself, and to also fulfill that desire that his body so desperately needs. I already felt it before.  His cock went from perky to fully erect by the time my cock hit his lips. And it went harder still when he felt my hands wrap around his head and force him down to deep throat me to the base. He wasn't overly experienced but he was a natural. And he has such deep needs.

So as I bucked my hips in a wave of motion, letting him feel my pass his hole at every ebb and flow, I leaned down.

I get it, kiddo.

And I kissed him. 

His whole body seemed to draw me in and in just mere moments, I felt him shudder as he came hands free. Just that extra touch of us chest to chest, lips to lips as his legs wrapped around to accept more of me set him off. 

And it was exactly what he needed.