aaaaaaaand.....he' back

As you have guessed, from me being back, it means things did not work out with my (now) ex. I'm absolutely not going to use this as a forum to be a whiney bitch and go into all the details, since a) it would be one-sided and that isn't cool b) several of my friends read this blog and I'd prefer things to be as amicable as possible, since my ex is really going to need all the support he can get. The long story short is it didn't work out, he's now back in Southern California on what he thinks is a temporary stay until I come to my senses/ what I HOPE is a permanent stay and that he comes to HIS senses and realizes it's over. I've earned my "mother teresa" award, and now I'm done. There are definitely some loose ends we'll need to take care of and I'm hoping this will be as easy as possible...but I know it most likely won't be.

One thing I can and will say is that my ex is the best workout bud I have ever been with (10x better than any professional trainer I've ever known) and got me bigger than I've ever been (14 1/2" biceps at present). So, the boy's looking good (I definitely didn't let being in a relationship give me an excuse to slack off). And since I'd gone all this time with sex with just one person (absolutely NOT a sacrifice, but definitely different...what it lacked in creativity it made up in comfort). In fact, when I finally did come to the realization that I am free to bone who I want/when I want now, it took me a little while to get the long-ranger back in the saddle. Meaning, before I even did anything, I spent the better part of the afternoon stroking and ultimately measuring myself to see if I was "up" for it (yup, clocked in at 8 1/2" suckaz!!). Reason being, when you're only with one guy, you don't have to impress him with how big you are (it's nice, but not required), but when you're hooking up with someone new mostly on the promise that you can deliver 8"...well...I'd personally find it more than embarassing if I didn't live up to that. Thankfully, I still can.

Once I had the courage (and the schlong) up, it didn't take long to get rythm going with previous and new holes. The first was a lanky 30-something white guy with an awesome bubble-butt. When he came over to my place, he had some impish smirk on his cute blond face. I just thought "we'll see who's smirking 10 minutes from now" and led him into my boning-lair. After flopping my cock out (BOY was I ready for this!) he knelt and put it into his mouth, giving me a decent blow-job. But of course, what I was after was located in the rear, so I brought him up, slid down his jeans saw that his pics did not do him justice; this ass was one prime-A slab of bubble-butt boy-beef. You be the judge:

I suited up the long-ranger and mounted him from behind. I had gotten so used to one hole for so long that my cock immediately noticed the difference and I got even harder, expanding and stretching his hole just by being inside it. Without me even moving my body he started whimpering and moaning in pleasure. When guys whimper or whine in bed, to me it's like a signal saying I can do anything I want to them, so I pulled my dick all the way out and watched his pucker close up tight, then I poked it open again and slid the whole cock in. I did this several times until his hole couldn't take anymore and he just gave up and left it open for me (no more pucker). Now that I had his hole trained to the size of my dick, I grabbed his hips and just started ramming him, taking out all my frustration and rage from the last moth on his ass. After about 5 minutes of pounding his poor defenseless hole, I flipped him over on his back. His unimpressive dick was standing at full attention which let me know he was really enjoying this, so I lifted his legs up and pushed them close together so all I saw was his hole (whatever he did with his dick and balls on the other side was his problem, not mine) and just fucked him like a bitch. After a few minutes of that, I just let loose and started cumming, ramming my cock inside him over and over to the point I thought I was going to break my balls from slapping against hiss ass so hard. I then released my grip on his legs and saw that I either hit a bulls-eye or that he had jacked himself off (didn't really care one way or another) as there was a pool of cum on his abs.

Before I could say "who's smirking now, bitch?" he looked at me, smiling and said, "you don't remember me, do you?" I held back my instinct to be a total dick at that moment by saying something rude, instead slightly shaking my head quizically. "We fucked a couple times about 10 years ago." Then it hit me; I did remember this guy. Decent fuck back then, about the same now. I smiled and nodded in recognition (hence the smirk when he walked in). He works about 10-minutes from me, so I might keep him in the harem.

The same day, I hooked up with a BAB (buffed asian boy) I fucked last year. Not sure if he made my blog tho:

The next day was a Polish guy from SF who had been wasting my time/annoying me for months last year asking me a bunch of stupid questions to the point where I just wrote him off as one of those idiots who gets off on c-sex. But he actually called saying he had a car and was dropping a friend off at SFO and this would be a perfect time to meet up finally. I let him come over, and TOTALLY was not disappointed (well, my expectations were low to begin with I suppose). He was also blond, white, nice ass (but didn't let me take a picture). I got off 2 good rounds in him but he didn't cum once, since he said he had already jacked off before coming over (uh....whatever dude. your loss).

And finally, on Sunday I kinda went to Disneyland as well; 23 year-old blond buffed (body-builder) former-military (well...Canadian military if that counts) from Vancouver. I met him online (recently updated my pics) and I knew since he was so buffed that he could probably get anyone he wanted, so he most likely chose me because of the length of the long-ranger. The fact was he was my second fuck of the day (the first one wasn't really worth writing about...so I won't) and I really wanted to make a good impression and was worried my own insecurity would set in. It turned out my worries were unfounded. The minute he stepped in (and I figured if I could just get him into my house I'd be home free) he practically fell to his knees to nuzzle my crotch. That totally took the pressure off (well, so to speak). When I finally got him into my den-o'-dick he couldn't get my shorts off fast enough to start sucking me. I indulged him since like I said, that was my ticket into Disneyland. I noticed he REALLY liked sucking me, so I started getting more aggressive; forcing his mouth open wide and using my cock like a prod into his mouth, then slapping his face with it (he couldn't get enough). I looked down and saw his jeans had been unbuttoned at some point and he wasn't wearing underwear. As I eased him up off my dick his jeans fell down and showed he was sporting about 3" from his blond pubes. After finally getting him to bend over (he needed to suck me a few more times, so it actually started to get frustrating) I mounted him and started the bone-dance.

He was really getting into it, and I got more and more verbal, in a commanding voice asking, "who's my little cock whore?" and he'd respond softly "I am", then I'd pop my cock out of his hole and slap his ass and command, "louder, bitch!" he said, "I AM!" then I rammed my cock back in his muscle-butt. As hot as he was, I really didn't even want to look at him in the face out of fear I'd feel inferior, so I just pumped him doggie-style until I was ready to cum. I just said, "I'm getting ready to cum, dude." and banged a load out (he did too).

Afterwards, it was "clean-up" time and he was of course a very typical and polite Canadian boy, making small-talk and friendly chit-chat. So, to all of you who have written over the months, thanks for the loyalty. It's good to be back.

Malleability

Let's start of with some...hmm....I dunno....boning? Sure, why not. This week was VERY full at work. And because of the shared stress, our powers-that-be have deemed it possible for us to now work from home 3 days a week. This is GREAT since my 20-mile commute now averages 1 hour and 15 minutes (yes, kids, the economy is picking up as evidenced by the traffic and number of Camry-driving jinders on the road). Unfortunately, my days working from home are also packed with phone-conferences and other tasks which has thus-far prevented me from doing some mid-day fucking. As a matter of fact, this whole week my crotch has been dryer than a stone in the Sahara. It wasn't until Friday evening that I had my first potential for some good-ol' fashioned in-and-out...but the fish were not biting. I spent a good hour or so trolling my website of choice, and finally broke down and put an ad up on craigslist (as you know, this usually means scaping the bottom of the barrel). I did finally get a bite from a 20-something Mexican dude from Oaxaca with a beautiful bubble-butt. He liked it from behind and kept looking back at me while I was plowing him. I don't know why, but I LOVED that.

I didn't mention this before, but I'm about 10 lbs underweight (well, under what I WANT to weigh) since I've been back from Europe. This ALWAYS happens when I'm there for longer than a week, since a) I don't get to go to the gym there (just do 100+ push-ups a day) and b) the food there just does not stick to you (plus the portions are a lot smaller than in the US). Anyone wanting to lose weight should definitely try living there for a month. Anyway, as I'm feeling mighty scrawny, I've been hitting the gym regularly, and tonite was no exception. I'm still not lifting the same amount as before I left, but hopefully by next week I'll at least be on my regular routine, and maybe a week after that back to the weight/tone I want to be.


After I got home, I got hit up by the same fuck bud I was in Orlando with last year. I had not seen him since a month after that trip, which often happens with him. He's Filipino-American (aka a Flam), buffed, 34, a ju-jitsu contender and very masculine. As such, his crowd is mostly straight and he has a tendency of falling off the end of the world for long periods of time. I have grown to accept this and don't take it personal. So, when he hit me up again this eve, I let him come over for SEVERAL deep fucks. He lets me do anything I want to him, and I absolutely do. The only thing I don't like is if I fuck him missionary, when I'm about to cum he always commands me to smile (not my natural facial expression in climax mode). So, anyway, here's an exercise for you, my loyal viewers:

These are actually two separates asses -- one is the Mexican guy I fucked Friday, and the other one is the Flam. Can you tell which one is which? I can...cuz I was inside both of them (mmmm-MMMMMM, Beeyotch!)

So, this year's catch-phrase is "Livin' like a lizard--fast and smooth." Oddly, a phrase I use often at work "just among us chickens" (since I don't like when men use "just between us girls") has caught on and is being used at the highest levels of my company now. And speaking of words, here's one for your brainy dictionaries (assuming it's not there already): malleability. This word has several connotations, but the one I'm referring to is the propensity to be shaped, plied or controlled by something else. Why am I bringing this up? Because ever since my ex visited me, HIS ex, OL caught wind of it and has been calling me and leaving message after message. I finally picked up and essentially he just wanted to stir the pot and find out any/all info on my ex.

I was very tight-lipped, which only made him try harder by recounting story after story, annecdote after annecdote about my ex in every gory detail. This only confirmed what I had long suspected; this guy is a sleaze. He loves being the victim and the hero of every story, but unbeknownst to him, my ex told the same stories from the opposite side. Somewhere in the middle of course is the truth, but no hero or victim to be found. What I was able to learn/triangulate from these stories, is OL is not only an enabler, but my take is that despite his moaning and toll of woe for my ex being a drug-user, OL actually prefered him like this. Why? Malleability. My ex is definitely a smart guy, incredibly smart. And strong willed. My guess is he was much more malleable while on drugs to OL, who guided him into that world to begin with over a decade ago. Anyway, when he realized he wasn't going to get any new fodder about my/our ex, he ended his tirade telling me he will be going into colon surgery this weekend. Do I need to say how appropriate this is?

K-A-R-M-A.

Back?

Thank you for the emails of concern, and yes, I'm finally back. And I'm begining this post with the intention of keeping it brief, since I'm pretty drained (only partially in a good way). I am physically back from Europe, but the travel itself was excrutiatingly tedious (4 days of snow delays at Heathrow and Gatwick with long hours of waiting in between). My first fuck of the New Year occurred on my way back through London; since I had to spend the night, I made a side-trip to Clapham Common. As I was walking around, I stumbled upon a couple of guys stroking each other. I kept my distance, but was motioned to come over and join, so I did. Although it was dark, I could see up close guys were hot and flipped out my dick, which was rock hard from weeks of no sex of ANY sort. One guy knelt and started sucking me and the other dude back and forth. This was OK until some obese, ugly Indian/Paki walked up and kept crowding us. No matter how much we all motioned and told him to "shove off", he was undaunted and kept trying to press against us until pretty much everyone simultaneously zipped up and left in disgust. As I walked away, a tall, hot 20-something guy with blond curly hair sprinted past me. He looked back and I gave my crotch a rub, which made him stop in his path. I walked towards him and and he looked around and said, "I'm really rushed." I reached around and shoved my hand down his pants to feel his butt-hole and said, "Then we'll have to make this quick." He moaned, and I took this as a signal and undid his jeans and pulled them down to reveal his bubble-butt.

I pulled my dick out again, suited up with the profo in my pocket and put some spit on my dick and positioned it at his hole; he bent over in compliance. As he did so, I smelled the ever familiar smell of cum; so I rubbed his hole again and put my finger to my face to smell it-- yup, he'd just been fucked raw. I didn't mind the sloppy seconds since I was wearing the profo and I REALLY just needed to get off. I shoved the long ranger inside him (not difficult, since someone else had loosened him up) and started pumping, basically just using his hole. I did ask him, "you like it mate? You feeling my cock up your bum? Ready for me to pound my load out?" and in probably less than 30 seconds I was done, spewing an eye-popping orgasm.

When I got back to the US last week, I had received yet another email from my ex stating how he really was sorry for anything he had put me through last year when I tried to come down to see him for the intervention. He stated the death (overdose) of his boyfriend put him in a mindset that this year he had to change. I told him, if he was serious, I'd put him on a bus so we could spend a weekend assessing the situation in "neutral" territory (i.e. away from enablers or any other bad influences...save yours truly). To my surprise, he agreed and Friday eve at the San Jose train station, after 15 years, I met the first guy I'd ever had sex with, fell in love with, planned a life with, become infuriated with, and ultimately broken up with.

In the 48 hours we spent together, it went from awkward, to desperate, to familiar, to sad, to nostalgic and a host of other peak/valley emotions in between. The first night, he was still coming off of crystal meth, which gave him a very mellow and almost disturbing demeanor. We slept in the same bed and even ended up doing some mild, heavy-petting and making out, although he was extremely awkward and self-conscious of his physique (which I personally liked) as he used to be a very buffed version of Keanu Reeves and now in his mid-40's had put on some extra pounds. He still looked very good, with the exception of his ass, which had turned extremely saggy (and he had a very obvious meth-dick and balls which had shriveled due to steroid use). He eventually fell asleep, and I spent the entire night lying next to him, awake, listening to him breathe, snore, sleep-talk etc. He must have slept for over 12 hours, and the next day his old personality finally started appearing slowly but surely.

I think this post has gotten a bit self-indulgent, so I'll wrap it up saying, by the time he left, we had shared some very emotional moments (good and bad) but both hopefully came to some foregiveness/acceptance over the damage caused between us. I'm still in awe at the whole event; it was like getting a visit from your favorite movie star, comic book hero and best childhood friend, and at the same time fearing this person couldn't have cared less about you. I have absolutely no idea if this was a turning point for him, or if I will ever see him/hear from him again. I AM hoping the best for him, while at the same time hoping lady catharsis will pay me a visit sometime very soon.

Hotel Humping

I've mentioned a few times how I live in a geography which is hardly a Mecca for the gay lifestyle. But one of the cool things is it is 10 minutes the hub of SFO airport and its many hotels. Which means there is a steady influx of out-of-towners and flight-attendants here for work eager to test out the local cock selection. And they are easy prey, especially since most of them are "captive" in their hotels which have absolutely no night-life or attractions of any sort around them. I've actually made some good additions to my extended harem; namely flight-attendants who live in other states but who are here a few times a year and make sure I am around for a visit. This last week I was under sincere jet-lag due to my own return from Argentina (that 5 hour difference knocked me the fuck out) and not feeling 100%. But I did take advantage of the hotel situation twice:

aaaand.....

The first guy was what I cannot describe in any other way than a "dumb hick" from Texas. So dumb that I was almost in love. He had a very nice body, cute face, fat 8" dick and as you can see, a tight pink hole. He had a very pronounced slow southern drawl ("iyus sayun francisco anywhere near sayun deeyaygo? Ahm supposed tuh visit sum frayunds there if ah cayun") which made his "fuck me"s so HOT. This boy really took it like a champ. He's in town for another week, but very closeted and I'm hoping to hit it at least one more time before he leaves. White trash is always at the top of my list when it comes to sex. Keep your Brazilians.

The second guy was actually someone I've fucked before about 3 years ago. He was back in town and asked if I wanted to come over for a quick fuck, and of course I obliged. This guy is actually odd because he is actually severely handicapped. If you saw him walking, you'd notice this immediately (he has to use a brace). But lying in bed (which is how he always wants to start) you would never know. His body is perfectly proportioned, and he has a long dick and bubble-butt ass. It's only if you look closely at his feet that you see he's hobbled as it were. But honestly, he is one hot fuck, so that never is an issue with me.

So, I just finished reading a book called "Outliers" (for those of you who have read it already, yes, I know I'm very behind. And for those of you who haven't, I can't recommend it enough). The premise is that there is a formula or equation to success, and some of the factors are in your control (like talent, dedication, practice etc) while others are not (i.e. when you were born, cultural factors, parental nurturing etc). While it is easy to read it and say, "oh, well this explains why I'm not a billionaire. I never stood a chance." I don't believe that's the purpose. I think it should inspire everyone to look at any situation critically and statistically to see what side of the equation needs augmenting or lessening. Here's how I'm gonna apply this; say I want to get laid (which is unfortunately pretty much a constant). I have a few options; 1) find a steady boyfriend who will thusly be semi-obligated to have sex with me 2) proactively seek a (willing) sex partner 3) passively wait for someone to reach out to me for sex 4) pay for sex (I'll label this "unwilling" because you need some coercive factor here; i.e. money). Assuming I am attached to the outcome of getting laid, I then have to determine which of these options will bring me the highest probability of success as well as the other factors which are needed in order to increase that probability. Anyway, I hate to say it, but statistics really does play very heavily into anyone's sex-life, as un-sexy as that sounds.

Lastly, I know it's been over a year since my crack-head ex was supposed to receive the intervention. And since then, as I mentioned, his enabler has kicked-the-bucket, leaving him to ponder his place in the universe. He may actually be at the point where he can and will accept help. His other ex, OL (Oompa-Loompa) has been feeding me info and hinting he wants to get him into a program run by someone he knows. The weird thing is, I have been helping OL (my ex's ex) relocate up to northern California most likely because a) I'm a very cool guy but also b) I think deep down I have a need to be the "savior" at times, and by helping OL I think I've been vicariously helping my crack-head ex. I dunno. Anyway, I'll be traveling back to Europe for the holidays in a week, so when I get back, I may take this on as a project. Haven't decided. So, this will be my penultimate post before my trip. I hope everyone as a great week ahead.

Restart

I'm aware people do not visit this blog to hear about my hard-hitting opinions on politics, my satiristic social commentary or lithe, sonnet-like writing style. But I would be remiss in not giving a recap on events these last couple of weeks of air silence. First, as my last post mentioned, Bull died of an apparent drug overdose. This was not surprising given his craquelure lifestlye, but it is still sad. In fact, his memorial service is today, but I will not be going since it is being "hosted" by a bunch of twink/crackhead friends of his who will most likely use this as an opportunity to do drugs together, and that's not the kind of atmosphere or way I want to remember or memorialize him.


This same week, a former room-mate of my pal Kev-bo's died. This guy was also implicated in a very horrible, unsolved murder (not going into details) but still, his death affected Kev-bo and I'm sorry about that. Add to this, my former crack-head ex in Southern California had some perverse co-dependent/enabling relationship with some older guy (they both essentially scored drugs for each other and found places to stay, but I don't think there was any sex involved). Anyway, and I'm sure you're all seeing this coming, this older guy just died of an overdose this last weekend as well. My ex was so shaken up that he's been reaching out to everyone telling them this was his "wake-up" call and he has now "turned a corner". Yup...and if wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets to the sea.


Finally, I had some relatives over, including two 5-year-old's. I've written before how the mere notion (let alone presence) of kids makes my libido drop like an 80-year-old stripper's tits. And this particular trip wasn't for pleasure, so suffice it to say the added drama around the house put any thoughts of boning off my radar. Anyway, I hope this self-indulgent rant didn't bore you too much, but it was kind of necessary to put the air-silence into perspective.


I think the most challenging thing was around Thursday eve my libido came back with a vengeance. But by the time I got home from work and got online, there was just no quality ass to be had. Hell, I really would have settled for bargain-basement at that point. But it just wasn't happening. I half considered jacking-off before bed, but felt too tired and quite honestly disappointed to do it. But the next day, as luck would have it I was able to work from home and promptly set about getting laid. I ended up talking to a very buffed filipino dude and told him to come over. When he showed up, he was buffed, very good looking, but also, VERY FOBish, wearing a jean/jean-jacket combo with a John Travolta haircut circa 1978. I didn't waste any time as I thought I'd enjoy looking at him a lot better naked and from behind. I got him into the boning-lair and pretty roughly stripped off his clothes. I don't think he liked this too much, but after I bent him over and had my tongue in his hole, he at least went alont with it.


Here's the thing; I'm generally a great fuck and very cognizant of when the bottom is having fun. But I think because my balls were so backed-up with cum, I was just in animalistic mode. If this guy was hoping for a slow, sensual encounter, that was just not going to happen. I suited up, pushed my cock inside him, and against his moans and requests for me to slow-down continued pumping. I'd stop for a few seconds to humor him and ask him if he was alright, but then start up again regardless of his response. I know he's not reading this, but all I can say is, I'm sorry. Like a whore who's "jon" is a convicted rapist who just got out of prison, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and got the brunt of a very hard and rough fuck. This was the culmination of 2 weeks of sexual frustration. When I finally got my load off, I could see he was NOT happy. And I was actually embarassed, so he quickly dressed and left, without even so much as washing or making eye-contact.

I saw him later online, and dispite my apology, he was not into talking to me again. I got back to work, and got a call from the red-head from the gym. He asked if he could come over later...and...yeah! Thing is, when he got here, I had already gotten off my agressiveness with the other guy, so I was very passionate and sensual with him (that's actually how he enjoys it). So much so, that after I fucked him missionary and came, he usually jacks himself off with me still inside him. He tried, then said, "maybe I'll just wait until round 2". Now, this was odd because he NEVER lets me do it twice. But I was more than willing too oblige, and 10 minutes later gave him another stellar fuck. So, 3 loads in as many hours. Definitely felt good to make up for lost time.

Next weekend I'll be back in Orlando. So, any/all suggestions are welcome...

Ho V Hubbie

So, a bit o' irony: Brad (the buffed Latin dude I met last week) was getting really hot and bothered about us "dating", even though we had only hooked up the one time. I actually mulled the idea over in my head and thought, "Hmmm, I have a sex party this coming weekend, then Bull's Birthday Pool-Party the following weekend, then a "mixer" pool-party Sven invited me to the weekend after that. In other words, a LOT of opportunity to meet guys and have hot sex. Although I didn't tell him all this, I think he sensed my hesitation in our last phone call and that was that. Which leads me to my point: I think for the remainder of the summer at least, I will definitely be a Ho, and not a Husband (boyfriend). I'm just in that mode.

During the week, I saw Cuba again (hadn't seen him in months...busy boy!) and we had some really hot sex. Although I'm not a cock man, I just can't get over looking at his 9" uncut dick while I'm fucking him. I even play with it while I'm on top of him (something I rarely do...it's just that awesome). Then I got a couple hits off another Brazilian dude I've been boning which you can see here:

Then Saturday eve I ended up seeing my good pal Kev-bo who is in SF for a few days. The boy is looking good (better than last trip even) and I was very glad to hear his business is going well. I LOVE hearing good news from my friends. I sincerely cannot wrap my head around the concept of schadenfreude (leave it to the Germans to come up with a word to describe something as fucked up as that). I also FINALLY got to introduce Kev-bo to Sven, which is cool because I'd been trying to get those two to meet for about 4 years. They are definitely two guys who I knew would hit it off as they have a lot in common interest AND personality wise. And before we showed up, I told Kev-bo that Spaz would most likely be among the people at the house, but I said I wouldn't tell him WHO he was beforehand. Well, Kev-bo had no problem picking him out immediately.

Later that eve, I went to the sex-party which was nice...not great, but nice. I got a couple loads off so I can't complain. But the hosts just need a little lesson in keeping the nervous conversation to a minimum by creating the right setting. The odd thing was as I was fucking one porn guy there, I looked at the porno playing on the TV and recognized one of the guys I had fucked weeks ago at the other sex-party. It almost made me have to think to myself, "um...have I ever done porn?" And of course, the answer is no. And as I've said many times before, I'm not even remotely interested in porn. Why? Because I have an entire library in my head. Honestly, I wish MORE guys would use their own cerebral-porn more often rather than relying on watching it. And in that spirit, I will now share my top 10 hotest sex (meaning cock in hole) scenes I've ever experienced (in no particular order);

LA City College showers – fucked a sailor and latin twink
DORE Alley portable toilet – boned a young drunk blond kid butt-out chaps
My First "Ex" one hot summer - mad, passionate all-night sex under a moonlit sky
Powerhouse Bar in SF – shared a hot blond bottom in the back alley with a hot Russian guy
Turnham Green – fucked 2 blond English twinks in the bushes
Underdawg and Homie - my first 3-way; so perfect I felt depressed for a week as I feared I'd never have such a hot, awesome experience again
CXR Toilets - double-fucked a guy with the biggest dick I'd ever seen on a man, then sandwiched the 2nd guy while he fucked him
Underdawg at the gym - after he closed up the gym one night, having sex with him on the weights and equipment
Fred Meyers on Broadway in Seattle - met a HOT white muscle dude and ended up fucking him in the basement
Golds Gym Sauna in SF - too many to list

I highly encourage you, my readers to make a list of YOUR hottest moments and play them over in your head instead of playing porn next time you want to get off. See, how that goes. So, I'll wrap with an open call for travel advice; I'm going to Austin, TX and Little Rock, AR this month. Any/all words of wisdom on getting laid in those two locations would be very much appreciated.

Confirmation

Noooo, not THAT kind of confirmation. Lemme 'splain...

I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in the universe when I say I have a very bad habbit of second-guessing my instincts, which are actually very good. And even though I know I'm 99% sure of something, just because all the facts plus my gut is telling me something, I always look for that confirmation to put the matter to rest. Here's an example: I met the first guy I ever had sex with (and who would later be my first boyfriend) when I was in college at a frat party (he was the "house master" and looked, talked and acted like Keanu Reeves). There's much more to this story, but suffice it to say after I broke up with him, we lost contact for about 12 years (this was right before the age of the internet). Since he was a spoiled rich kid from LA and always drove nice cars, nice suits, nice houses (3 at one time) and had a good job (became a VP of a well-known consulting firm) I'd just assumed he went on to greater things. While I was in Europe this last time, he found me on the internet and we emailed a few times culiminating in him saying how cool it would be to meet up again. I told him I'd be back in the US in a few months and we could definitely make plans. But he was always very evasive and sporadic in his communication, and didn't have a cell-phone as it turns out. So, I thought two things: 1. he's so wrapped up in his job that he doesn't have much free time or 2. he has severe issues with substance abuse or mental problems. The more I analyzed the situation (no cell phone and no internet "foot-print" was a big giveaway) I realized it was most likely the latter. But I guess I didn't want to believe that someone who for good or for bad influenced me and affected me at one point in my life would fall so low, so I always left a room for the shadow of a doubt (maybe I was completely wrong). Well, another long story, but the wrap-up is that I got confirmation yesterday that he is indeed a rock-bottom, couch-surfing, chrystal-meth addict; the LAST person in the world I would have ever suspected, but unfortunately once again my initial instincts were correct. And I'm bummed out because of it.

I got a few emails about the video I posted about the dude that I fucked that turned out to be in porn, doubting that I knew him. Well to all you doubters, haters and baiters, yes, I actually do. And I still have his number. And no, you cannot bait me into giving it to you just to "prove it" to you. If you are really so desperate to contact him, I can forward your contact info to him and just leave it at that if he's intersted. And just to blow your minds even further, here's yet another story involving porn, sex parties, Eurotrash and plastocene (actually there's no plastocene in this story):

Back in the early part of this decade when I was living in the UK, there was a couple named Diego and Bernie who lived North of London and had some amazing sex parties (yes, I remember what I said about there not being sex parties that were "half as good" as the ones during 1999, but I meant in the US). Diego was a flight attendant or "trolly dolly" as they call them in the UK (they are so faggy sounding over there) and in his early 40's at the time whereas his boyfriend, Bernie was the typical "old English queen"; mid-50's, effeminate, bitter and controlling. So, since he was too repugnant to actually entice young guys to have sex, he decided to do the next best thing, which was to open up his house to young guys to have sex all around him and watch. And they were VERY selective and restrictive on who would come. Yes, "British hot" is still a few notches below what is considered hot in the US, but still, they were hot, and the "bouncer" at the front door was constantly calling Bernie over when someone who had either sent a fake or very old picture tried to sneak their way in (Bernie would usually just confirm what the bouncer's opinion was and say simply "Ta" and walk back to the party). And these parties were so big that people would actually fly in from as far away as Greece to attend. I went to about 6 the entire time I was living in the UK and ALWAYS ended up fucking from 6 - 20 guys a night (note: not cumming that many times, but yeah. It was HOT).

Around 2006 they stopped doing them (I was already back in the US by then) and decided to apparently take another path: porn. Diego used to be pretty hot and buffed, but has since become quite haggard looking (you can be the judge). Yet another friend of mine in Italy has actually gone into porn as well and is apparently getting quite a following now. He sent me this link showing Diego in action (he's the darker bald guy in the second scene; Bernie is the smarmy effette voice you are hearing off-camera.



As an aside, when I saw the second scene in the video I can't tell you how many asses I fucked in that very same bedroom (minus either of the hosts, since Bernie was repugnant and Diego was...well, Spanish). This leads to my last point: I noticed on Diego's shoulder he has one of those "Bio-Hazzard" tattoos. I know in the gay community here in CA (specifically in SF) that it means one is HIV+. A quick funny story is a TOTALLY straight former roommate of mine from Switzerland for some strange reason liked that design and got one for himself a few years back. When he came to the US (SF) last year on a visit, he was SO LIVID when he found out what it meant. Ahhhh, those clueless Euros. So, I'm guessing Diego is now HIV+ and going for that niche-market of conversion-porn for people who like watching young boys get infected by older, creepier HIV+ guys. Nice. Good on 'ya, Diego. Si algun dia lees este mensaje, ya es superevidente que eres un españolín típico que no entiende ni siquiera merece nada de respeto, honor ni valor humano.

Yet another confirmation of what I'd always thought of the both of them. And I'm done.