the gift that kept on givin'

i turned 30 last week. got some awesome gifts. had a cool party. overall, it was a grand ol' time.

i also ended up with a nine inch uncut dick in my mouth as i fucked one of the tightest (and hairiest) asses i've ever had the pleasure of plugging.

as a present to myself, i gave myself the 'gift' of a threeway.

i don't do 3-ways very often. my experience with Couple #1 killed any eagerness i had in pursuing it on regular basis. and aside from the sex, ties (me up) and videotape sessions with Couple #2, i've been very reluctant when propositioned by couples. navigating a 3-way, particularly with a couple, can be awkward at best and awful at worst.

i met Couple #3 on Manhunt. i nearly turned them down flat. their profile seemed uninspired and their pictures were unflattering due to the double-punch combo of bad lighting & poor angles.

but in the course of the conversation they begin to win me over. i usually like my fucks to be rough around the edges in their approach - someone who will be crass about how badly he needs it turns my crank. if he's all 'i need to get my whole plugged right now.' - is guaranteed to get a faster response than a dude who is reserved. because if they're crass in their approach - they will (usually) be an even dirtier slut in bed. (although i have definitely been wrong on a few occassions).

Couple #3 were insistent, and there was something particularly urbane about said insistence. so despite the bad pictures i decided to meet them. we agreed that if neither party was feeling the vibe we would cut it short. so i go to their place.

imagine my surprise to see how misleading their pictures are.

they're both smoking hot. Gentleman 3A is Puerto Rican, late 30s, with a killer (and very hairy) muscle-bear body: he's all biceps, pecs and meaty thighs. Gentleman 3B is older (40s) and also fantastic looking. he's clearly germanic - with the milky skin and sharp but fleshy features german men are known for.

and how do i know he was germanic? that was due to his nine inches of UNcut dick. it had a mouthful of width and gerth. striated with veins. the type of dick that bottoms dream about. perfect.

but i'm getting ahead of myself.

we move into their bedroom. i spy a glass pipe on one of the side tables; they offer a hit (tina) and a tab of viagra.

now. before i move forward - i'm going to address the whole 'men who PnP are crazed sex/drug fiends'. i don't have an issue with guys who PnP. i've smoked tina to enhance sex play. not every time - but definitely every so often. and yes - there are ALOT of guy out there who have allowed PnP to totally fuck-up up their lives. if drug play is a factor in your sex play - make sure you regulate your shit. drugs + sex really test a person's understanding of his own responsibility and accountability. we all know what smoking tina can do (and if you smoke tina and don't know - i advise you find out). if you can manage it without becoming a crackhead - more power to you. if not - you need to address it asap. either way, know and understand the consequences. that may sound cliched - but it really is that simple. it's common sense, folks.

back to the sex.

after swallowing the viagra - i take a hit of tina. we pass the pipe another round and strip. i strip down to black low-cut briefs. Gentleman 3B is naked while 3A keeps his white jock on. 3A shotguns hits of tina into my mouth.

3B turns on a bareback video. their choice of video gives me high hopes. 3B's dick looks like a piece of marbleized candy; it's all shaft and veins with a mushroomed head sticking out from his foreskin.

at this point, the tina-high hits me. i'm sexually aggressive without tina - with tina...

the sex is un-fuckin-believable. i fuck 3A as 3B watches - stroking his own dick. i suck off 3B's meat while 3A sucks my dick. i eat out 3A's hairy hole as 3B watches. 3B and i double fuck 3A. as i fuck 3A in the tub, 3B pisses on us.

i'm sure you get the idea.

eventually, it's 4am (i came over at 7pm). we finally focus on cumming. 3B shoots first: i give him a good deep-throater - lubing his dick with lots of spit before he goes and fucks his boyfriend. i come second: shooting my load in 3A's ass - already sloppy with cum, spit and lube. 3A decides not to shoot - he's too tired after being stretched open by his boyfriend and jack-hammered by me. but all in all, an awesome session. there are smiles all around.

we have plans to hook up next week.

pix of me

i wasn't going to post my picture at first - but what the hell...

as you can see, we went a little crazy with the magic marker in the second pic.

dvds killed the blogging star...

i'm being cheeky. i don't consider myself a blogging star. that would be an incredibly presumptuous and asshole-ish thing to say even if it was true. which it isn't.

the reason why i've been gone is because my birthday was this week (more on that in a later post).

i hit the big three-oh. turning 30 is not that big a deal (for me, at least) - but it does make for some excellent gift receiving.

i was given - quite literally - one of the best birthday gifts i have ever received:

the dvd set of the full run of one of my favorite television shows. bar none, this show always rocks my socks. and with me being off from work today and monday - i'm utilizing that time to catch up on some old friends.

plus, i've also been using this time to play hulk: ultimate destruction like a gaming crackhead.

sex maniac i may be - but i can do the antisocial shut-in freakshow like nobody's business.

will be back soon.

a blowjob at steamworks

i'm at steamworks. it's saturday night. 1am.

as a personal rule, i usually won't go friday/saturday/sunday. Especially after bar time. at that point, its all walking ego trips with their asses welded shut and their noses in the air. the way i see it, i shouldn't have to work that hard in a bathhouse. it's counterproductive.

but, tonight i had met a few friends out. by bar time, i was horny and wanted to work in a lay.

so...i'm taking a stroll 'round the perimeter. i had just finished my first lay (fucking some guy in one of the slings on the third floor), so i'm taking my time searching for the second.

i stop in the steam room. normally, i skip this area due to the nature of the room itself: too steamy, too hot, and i can never see properly. also the action is too clandestine; everyone is always in a corner where the steam is thickest.

but the first thing i see in entering is this hot black guy with an amazing body sitting on one of the benches near the door. he's sprawled on the bench, towel unfolded. he's smart; he positioned there on purpose so he would be the first thing seen when entering.

he's seriously cut and shredded. i have a pretty decent build - but this man's body is no joke. now, i'm not normally into overly muscled guys - but there is one thing i will make an exception for.

the dick, of course.

it's big and thick. veins are popped all over it. top though i may be, i love sucking a big dick like any other queer. and with this one...it's gonna almost require two hands to finish it off. i'm instantly hard just staring at it.

i drop my towel so he can see my hard-on. he smiles. you can tell he's used to this sort of reaction - i know that he knows his dick is the shit - but he's...gracious about it. and that gets me even harder.

we go at it. his muscles are solid. this man works out alot. as we tongue each other's mouth, i straddle him as if preparing to sit on it. i can feel the tip of his dick press up against my hole. he bucks his hips slighly, and he slides in just a little. sweat, condensation and pre-cum makes for some handy lube.

he asks me to stand up so he can turn me around to look at my ass. i won't lie - i have a bottom's ass. as one fuck buddy once told me, it's 'an ass that was meant to be fucked'. it's round and athletic - and despite my size (i'm 6'0) seems to fit perfectly in a man's hands. TRICK's hands are roaming all over it.

a few feet away, dudes are starting to gather round. you can tell they are wondering who is going to get fucked. with his dick outclassing mine by a clear two inches, i know the bets are on me. i sit down next to TRICK, and start feeling up his dick and balls. his balls are just the perfect size too - big without seeming 'jack and the beanstalk' (i.e., freakish) big.

ME: fyi, man. i don't get fucked.
TRICK: (smiles) you sure?
ME: (laughs) yeah. sorry for the mislead.

and honestly, i do feel bad. with me sitting on it - i gave him a green light. i'm usually much better with fielding that stuff. but his dick really got the best of me.

but i have to say - if i did get fucked - his would would be the one i would want to get fucked with.

TRICK: it's cool. what else you do?

i don't even bother with an answer. i get down on my knees. he's big - almost ten. and even better - totally hard. you know how some dudes with big ones can only get partially hard? not this fucker. it slides down my throat perfectly. it tastes as hard as his muscles.

sidebar: i'm good at giving blowjobs. i love to fuck - but i take special pride at sucking dick. some guys just see dick sucking as a throwaway skill: gateway sex play. not me. i try to make sure that if i'm sucking your dick - it will be one of the best blowjobs you've had. at least top ten

(i don't mean to sound like a braggert - i merely take pride in my work).

but back to me sucking this dude off. i work his shaft and balls. i tongue the area between his dick and his hole (he won't let me go any farther despite his having a rim-worthy ass). i work the dick's head - which is a thick dark-purple mushroom.

his hands are on my head, but he doesn't even bother guiding me now. although at times he will force me all the way down to swallow it whole.

i can feel every vein under my tongue. i can tell he's getting close, so i slow down. i look up at him as i do this - he smiles. i look around; a few guys are standing close - jerking off. one dude is sitting on the far end of the bench also jerking. i go back down on TRICK. i train my mouth to go up and down the shaft slowly - quickly pulling off each time. i leave a trail of saliva/pre-cum from my mouth to TRICK's dick. bench dude audibly groans. i go back to concentrating, using lots of my spit as lube. the times i do pull off - his dick is shining with it, strands sliding down the shaft.

something in TRICK's body language tells me he is about to pop. i pinpoint what's making him tense the most and keep doing that: the full-dick swallow - taking him entirely in my mouth. his body is slick with sweat; every muscle can be seen in sharp relief.

a minute later, he groans. and suddenly his dick is pulsing. hot cum blasts the inside of my mouth. big dick, big shooter - so he really fills my mouth up. i let it dribble out my mouth and slide down his dick as i continue working it. he shudders hard a few times and then finally, stops.

with the steam, i'm able to discreetly spit out his cum to the side (personal rule: until i've fucked around with someone a few times i don't swallow). he sees me do it, but seems cool.

we talk briefly. he makes a joke about fucking me later - we both laugh, knowing it won't happen.

i shower and head up to the second floor rooms to look for lay #3.

me so porny (me love you long time)

while in nyc, i was (of course) horny and needed to pop one off. it was late at night, and with the next day being an early one - i was not in the mood to engage in the whole 'search & negotiate' bull required to get an out-of-town lay. so i decided to check out the hotel 'adult entertainment' list.

i discovered that the hotel (at least from the chain i stayed at) listed gay pornos with all the hetero porn. maybe i'm behind in this sort of thing, i guess i should expected it; nevertheless i was (pleasantly) surprised.

it was interesting to see falcon's 'drenched' right next to 'barbie's bangs her baseball buddies'. the unfortunate thing was that all the gay porn was by falcon or colt.

no offensive to falcon or colt (or the people who watch them), but...ZzzZzzz. the whole fully shaved body and/or boy-next-door muscle god aesthetic just does not do it for me. it's too pristine. too crisp. too....studio. i like my porn like i need my lays - with some grit, spit and body hair.

and yeah - i know the whole 'manicured' look turns a lot of guys' cranks. but you know what? i don't fuck around with those types of guys. so all it's all good in the neighborhood for everyone around.

i ended up jerking off to a hetero gang-bang instead which. at times, i can get into. for some reason, the guys in gang-bang hetero porn tend to look less polished than the typical porn guy (gay or straight). more rough around the edges. i can jerk off to that better.

but goddamn, i'd still take a guy from a dick wadd video any fucking day of the week. a little variety in the hotel porn list would be nice. not all gays like freshly shaved pubes. maybe i should have wrote that on the hotel suggestion card.

damn. i really need a dirty pig to fuck with.

gone, but not...

i'm in NYC for work for most of this week. so no blogging from me until roughly this thursday/next weekend.

sad words, i know.

so don't bail on me (not yet, at least). i'll be back.

cheerio peeps,
libertine

edge of seventeen

i've never had a straight guy.

correction. i had a straight guy within my grasp, but was too chickenshit to act on it. despite the fact that the door was wide open.

K1 and i were both sixteen and in the same biology class. i was a well-read (for a 16 y.o.) question mark to my peers. K1 was on the varsity football team and wrestling squad, but was somewhat of an outcast. where everyone else in our school listened to nirvana, pearl jam and stone temple pilots - he rocked out to motley crue. to the derision of many of our classmates, he openly talked about getting a tattoo; this, when tattoos were not in vogue.

we were both anomalies to our peers. and seeing that attribute in each other was why there was a mutual attraction.

K1 was, at best, pleasant looking in a very unremarkable way. he was at the indetermined line between blond and brunette - and had a frequent case of severe bed-head. his blue eyes were neither storm-filled nor sunny; they were always perpetually overcast.

but the thing one noticed immediately about K1 was his body. training for football and wrestling had given him a man's body instead of a seventeen years old. he was all long, lean definition and ice-blue veins.

one day after classes, we were at his home, engaged in the typical teenage boy habit of 'doing nothing'. inexplicably, he asked me if i want to watch a porn. after a comically pregnant pause, i say yes.

it turns out to be straight porn. but when you are 16 - and the only dick you've seen is your own - beggars certainly aren't choosers.

inevitably as we watch the porn, the conversation turns to sex. during this discussion, i admit that i am 'interested' in guys. looking back on it - i realize how daring that confession was, considering how things could have gone. even more amazing, K1 admits to messing around with guys in the past. ever the nosy slut even when i was a scaredy-cat virgin, i slyly pry for info - but he won't budge.

we recline on the floor, watching a woman get vigorously fucked by her male co-star. i can't decide if K1 becomes more attentive when there are close-ups of the guy's dick, or if its wishful thinking.

and as all this occurs, another inexplicable event transpires: we begin to wrestle.

reflecting on this, its safe to assume that K1 was testing the waters. regrettably, i was too chickenshit to think straight. (pun not intended).

after 30 minutes we finally stop. K1 looks how i certainly feel - slightly winded and horny as fuck. i excuse myself to drive home. i don't realize i'm speeding till i bring my car to a halt nearly halfway across our front yard.

amazingly the exact same thing happens the next day. and the next. and soon a routine emerges: we put on a straight porn and then wrestle. a few times, we come very close to making out as we 'struggle' with each other. but as suddenly as it started - it stops. no rhyme or reason or incident to trigger it. we simply just stop.

there wasn't the expected cliche one would expect with such an encounter; the dynamics within our friendship remained the same. it seemed we had come to a silent mutual agreement and the opportunity to for us to act had, quite simply, passed.

eventually, we begin to move in different directions academically and socially. i was a tightly wound over-achiever who saw a.p. classes as a means to get into college (and the hell out of dodge) post-hasty; K1 was a minimally motivated introvert who was more interested in learning how to repair cars and getting an F150. but, despite being in a high school weaned on '90210' social/class divisions, we still managed to maintain our friendship. at one point, i even met his girlfriend.

so it was a kick in the chest when he told me he and his family were moving away right after our junior term was to end.

in the last weeks leading up to the end of term, the school received our annual yearbooks. K1 gave me a small picture of himself. he was in his football uniform, his characteristic non-smile firmly in place. but the back of the picture was the true surprise; it was filled with his scratchy penmenship explaining how much our friendship meant to him and how we wished we had hung out more.

he and his family moved a few weeks later.

we didn't talk again to nearly a year later. we discussed our post-high school life plans. i was aimed, like a strung longbow, towards college. he was focused on starting his mechanic and repair classes at a nearby community college.

i told him of my coming out to everyone (sans the parentals). he talked about how he and his girlfriend discussed living together. plans to meet were made - and we both were earnest and focused on making it happen. we concluded the call promising to follow-up in two weeks.

after that call, we never talked or saw each other again. at the risk of sounding wistful, i think life - and not a desire to avoid the other - just got in our way.

out of curiosity, i goggled K1 not too long ago. just to see. he still lives in wisconsin - and in an (even smaller) town that his family moved to. and he's still with his girlfriend.

although now she's his wife.

looking back, i think it was better we didn't mess around. i certainly wanted him sexually - but i wasn't as savvy about such matters as i am now. at that point, i was all fresh baked cookies and powdered sugar when it came to guys, sex and my emotions and i most definitely would have confused sex with emotions and screwed everything up. and as taciturn as he was at times, who knows what he made of it.

so, in the long run, it was probably for the best.

porn, ppv and pb&j

i'm usually not one to brag (publicly), but i looked pretty damn fantastic today.

chocolate colored oxford - athletic cut. brown steve madden slip ons. but the coup that solidified it all was the pair of denim i recently acquired. the particular label just released an 'unwashed' line. the color was a rich indigo with some cool looking contrast stitching. but the best part? they were also fitted low riders - which cupped my ass brilliantly.

you know when you wear something that speaks for you? you don't even need to utter a single word while you wear the item - it just brings out a previously untapped level of 'fuck me' appeal? that's what these jeans were doing. and you know what they said? (i know you want to know).

'i'm a hardcore top and i'll make you my bitch. but if you think you can tame this - it's all yours, baby.'

the last time i was so blatantly checked out in regular intervals, i was wearing considerably less clothing.

recognize.

in other news...i have no news. i've written plenty enough the past few days - but nothing that is currently worth posting. work always hijacks my writing ability; i've noticed i fare better on the weekend when i can focus all of my energy on sex.

the only worthwhile output i've had this week is popping out a few watching a vid on machofucker - which is now, without a doubt, my number one go-to for interracial bareback porn. usually, I'm a fan of ppv rather than a 'company' site. with ppv, i feel like i get more jack for my buck. i can jump around from a dawson gangbang to will west's dick having some quality 1:1 time with someone's twitching hole. all that - within the click of a mouse.

(technology & porn is like a warm pb&j sandwich. simply awesome.)

however, watching 'giulio' pound the shit out of 'lucas' was truly a heartwarming sight. i love it when a jackrabbit fuck is done just right; which is, in my mind, an undervalued and unappreciated skill-set.

jake shears can diddle my skittle

lately, i find myself lusting after jake shears. this is something that occurs at least three times a day.

i feel like this is such an obvious thing to admit. cliched. who doesn't think jake shears is a first-class sex bomb? it's like saying, 'oh, look. the sky is blue'.

i mean, cum on. that boy is asking to be fucked by me.

i usually shy away from the slightly androgynous glam rocker types. their insufferableness tend to be at a magnitude that is nothing short of galactic. but this boy screams sex. blistering sex. bad, dirty sex.

i imagine us in a seedy motel. bedsheets flung off. a lamp shade askew on the post. a table tipped over, perhaps one of its legs is broken.

the hotel room smells of semen and cigarettes. i'm wearing a white tee - it's damp against my skin and there are several rents in it. one sleeve is ripped completely off. his face is beaded with perspiration - locked in a rictus of ecstasy. his shirt? tatters.

we are both naked from the waist down, crouched over the bed - a full length mirror propped directly at its foot. my ass hovers over his.

thrusting.

a fantasy, of course. i have a greater chance of winning the 100 million lottery (all based on random numbers) while sidestepping a lightning strike that hits the convenience store. twice.

it's not going to happen.

the eleventh commandment

"my god is a god who wants me to have things. he wants me to bling!...the god i serve says, 'mary, you need to be the hottest thing this year, and i'm gonna make sure you're doing that.' my god is the bomb!"

- mary j. blige, us weekly

i don't even believe (the christian version) of god exists, yet this is now my new reasoning for buying things without guilt. if i want to buy an article of clothing that is unreasonably expensive, i will simply tell myself that god wants me to have them.

really, it's for the greater good of mankind.

bound + determined

when tricking, i used to only have two essential questions. they were:
1. how big is your dick?
2. do you like to get fucked?

as time progressed, i found myself adding

3. do you have a sling?
4. what kind of kink do you do?

i know. a trick question and mightily unfair to have it so open ended. but i had learned quickly that being too specific could scare off those who could be eased into something. or worse, attracting someone who would exaggerate just to close the deal.

considering my limited options in wisconsin, chicago was a kink smorgasbord. in wisconsin, i only had Spike (more on him in a bit) to really explore my kinked side. in chicago, 3 out of 8 guys were basically Spike Redux.

plus, looking fresh-scrubbed and wholesome (a misconception i deliberately encouraged) usually helped in drawing in those intrigued with the possibility of 'corrupting' me.

however, at times it would backfire. there was always a dude who would take a pass. the explanation being that i seemed too straight-edge for their tastes.

it's never a good thing, having to taste my own medicine.

if only they knew of my boots and yellow jock. my deftness in wielding a riding crop (papi spank!). my desire to be a treasure island media exclusive.

my foray into kink started when I was still in wisconsin. Couple #2 had, what I affectionately called, a 'playsement'. they had converted the entire basement of their home into a full fledged Hellfire Club-level dungeon.

you name it - they had it. if your imagination is running wild at this point - it is safe to assume they did indeed have what you just thought of.

i called it Lick-My-Boot Camp (har...har?) - and i spent some very educational sessions with them learning the basics of kink sex ("Oh, so *this* is how to use a Cat-A-Nine-Tails...").

but after awhile, one of the gents became too insistent. already wary of playing with couples in ongoing formats (due to experiences with Couple #1 from a few years back), I broke off communications.

then, right before i moved to chicago, i meet Spike. and i became his 'boy'. every sunday, Spike would bring his accoutrement to my flat. and even though i was still a functioning top - i was still spike's bitch.

watersports. spanking. restraints. dom/sub play.

barebacking.

yeah, i said it. and yeah - it was hot as it sounds.

i'm a pantyhead

i need to start researching my info better.

apparently, calling myself a 'sexual provocateur' is not the most clever thing, since it really means a 'narc'.

ugh. i even was prepping a post on why i chose 'provocateur' over 'libertine'. all high-brown and so very earnest.

so not just not sexy - but flat out ignorant.

idiot.

a good reminder to always wiki my shit and to always stick to what i know.

sex & the (new) city

sex is 'mental metamucil' for me. my brain gets constipated if i don't fuck regularly. i even make the 'i'm constipated face' if i have not placed my dick in something that is not my hand. the constipated face? very unsightly.

the first day i moved to chicago, i ended up fucking a dude in an adult bookstore.

at that point in my life, it was time for me to get out of wisconsin post-hasty. during this period, my regular sex dates didn't fit into my moving plans. so by the time i rolled into chicago on a friday night, i was ready to pop.

i went to the (now closed) Manhole. it was a vaguely leather bar every night except friday, which then turned into a visual/aural assault of whitney houston remixes and herb ritts second-stringers. every guy was waxed, buffed, and upholstered in diesel jeans. not usually my type, but i was ready to cut corners this time.

the man in question hit all the right notes: leanly compact, buzzed head, dark brown eyes. hairy and dark. and all fuck-me-use-me-abuse-me attitude.

we cruised each other relentlessly. he and i, like everyone else in the club, had their shirts off. usually, i refuse to take my shirt off. i have a nice body - and i certainly like to see a nice body. but there's something flagrant about removing one's shirt. it's usaually a turn off.

but that night a vodka tonic and a vicodin whispered into my ear. ever being easily influenced by reliable friends - i listened.

we circled each other until the closing time. even with the "reality lights" come on he still turns my crank. we're both sweating and reeking of endorphins.

ME: we can't go to my place. i'm staying with a friend.
HIM: can't be my place either. off-limits right now.
ME: boyfriend?
HIM: yeah.
ME: he know?
HIM: "don't ask don't tell" policy. that changes things?

if i don't know the S/O, i could give a fuck (pun intended). the only thing i'm thinking about is that now knowing there is a S/O - it will be a slamBAMthankyouSIR session and not a go-the-distance-for-a-few-hours.

we go to a 24-hour bookstore. since it's after bar-time, the pace has picked up. it’s as seedy as one would imagine, which i totally dig. he pulls me into a stall, pops a few coins to start the porn, and we start at it.

the stall is approximately the size of a broom closet. now, i've fucked guys in public places before - but i've never done a bookstore. the concept always seemed so 1974 - i could easily imagine rock hudson or tony randall strolling in. plus, i keep thinking we will get busted. but the dude is efficient. he clearly has done this (and in this bookstore) before. his ease relaxes me; i’m hard within seconds. aside from being a good "host", he also quickly shows himself to be an expert dicksucker. yay.

we're rough with each other. spit-slicked dicks bunted into faces - the cramped griminess of the surroundings - make it a much hotter scene than I would have anticipated.

it's time to fuck. i bend him over, one leg propped on the chair in the stall. his ass is perfect; thick with muscle, hairy. it's a man's ass - he's clearly no twink or 'boi'. but there's one problem.

"i don't got lube, man" i tell him.
he tosses a look over his shoulder; he wants my dick real bad. "it's cool. just use spit. i don't mind."


i'm skeptical - i tell him so. he proves me wrong. he turns and gets on his knees. this time the blow job is especially sloppy. strings of saliva connect from my dick to his mouth each time he pulls away. then he gets back into position.

"yeah, i'm sure," he tosses over his shoulder.

i shift into high(er) gear. the entire moment was perfect; arrogant aggressive bottom boys are like no other fucks. he knows he owns the moment too; he flexes his ass slightly.

after applying my own coat of spit - and eating his ass out for an added benefit - i fuck him mercilessly. he whimpers and begs - for more. i deliver to his request.

we finish. exit the stall. there is, like, a crowd milling around our door. dude doesn't seem amused, he pushes through the crowd. i take my time, give the "eye" to a few; silently telling them "remember this face. you, too, can get a ticket to this show at a later date".

outside we face each other. exchange a few pleasantries - both eager to get to our respective homes. we exchange numbers. he hints at doing this again - but with his BF. i vaguely concur - but am already losing interest.

by the next day, i forget where i last left it.

things you can tell just by looking @ him

i am a sex maniac.

i love sex - at times, i crave it. an urgency that fires up in the synapses - and eventually makes it way downtown. since losing my cherry 12 years ago, sex has played a significant part in my worldview.

the term 'sex addict' was lobbed at me once. a term that i feel, for me, is not accurate. close to the mark, perhaps, but not accurate. i won't neglect other areas of my life for a good lay - but i will consider doing some rearranging if the session is promising enough. 'functioning sex fiend' is probably a more accurate description of my life and behavior.

i've done 1:1, threeways, sex parties, and bathhouses. i've watched, been watched, was filmed and have had pictures taken.

i enjoy all the usual staples: fucking, sucking, rimming, assplay, hand jobs. 69ing, though? zzZZzzz. the mere suggestion is grounds for immediate disqualification. do not pass go and go directly to jail. no parole. severe? absolutely - but a guy's gotta have limits.

i also enjoy what could be considered 'calamari' on the menu of sex acts - acts that are an acquired taste. acts that a man definitely needs a sophisticated palete for.

("why yes, B2, i will take a piss on your chest."). i think you get the idea.

i'm reasonably good-looking: tall, masculine looking, a fairly disciplined build. not drop-dead gorgeous - but i have enough physical 'pluses' to make getting laid (fairly) easy.

i have a big dick, too. that always helps.

dick size aside, i don't look like a fiend. when one hears the phrase, sex maniac, one thinks of cheap cologne, gold necklaces and (untrimmed) chest hair. someone with the name of "Herb" or "Bruce". i don't come remotely close to those trappings.

i look wholesome. vaguely mid-westerny. my physical appearance conjures up images of thanksgiving dinner and picnics in the park. an extra from a gap commercial.

but visual expectation aside, i am a nice guy. i strive to be considerate, thoughful and creative to my partner(s) in the sack. i may make a dude choke on my dick - but it's always because he wants to.

aside from the dreaded 69-ing, i get off knowing that the dude i'm with is not only getting off - but really is enjoying his own journey in getting there. otherwise, the whole "fucking around" part? is pointless.

but i'm digressing. these are my stories.

hope you enjoy.