if it weren't for those teeth
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Posted:Mar 7, 2024 11:50 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1010 Views
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The other night I drove downtown in the freezing ass cold to hook up with a person who boasted exceptional oral skills. Furthermore, she was willing to strap a device to her face and over her mouth that would make it so I was fucking one of those fake silicone pussies but also a few inches of her throat. My biggest fear was getting puked on, because she wanted me to be extreme and unrelenting, but after being told she hadn’t eaten for a full day I felt assured. So much so, in fact, that I suggested we forgo the fake vagina strap on thingy so I could get deeper and rougher in her throat. She was happy to agree, and off we went.
The only issue was her jagged teeth, which kept scraping my cock in certain places. Apparently she’d been assaulted years ago for being trans and hadn’t gotten dental work done to fix anything. I decided for the fake vagina thingy after all, because it was seriously starting to hurt but also felt absolutely fucking amazing. Rare are the instances I get a mouth and throat that is seeking rough treatment, so I wanted to enjoy as much as I could. Well, frankly, I’m pretty greedy so when something feels good sexually I try to make it last. Exceptional or not, it’s my pleasure and I want it extended for as long as it possibly can be.
The face fucking was amazing, though a bit complicated by a blindfold and other pseudo-BDSM accoutrements, and I will definitely be going back for more. We’re talking about solutions to the problems we encountered, and I’m happy to say she is working on them. The experience would be damn near perfect if it weren’t for those darn teeth, but hopefully after adjustments are made I can go give her another test drive. I’ve honestly been aching to return, even despite the slightly painful spots on my cock. Face fucking someone should not be a “no pain, no gain” situation and when it is no longer an issue, I’m going to become a regular.
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what good are they?
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Posted:Mar 6, 2024 3:20 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 947 Views
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During a recent sexual adventure I found myself with someone who wanted very badly to be blindfolded and restrained. I long ago lost interest in any form of bondage, especially involving rope, but blindfolds are always fun, so I agreed if we could use cuffs instead. My partner in the adventure had a pair that were velcro, which meant there’d be a bit of pretending going on, but I really didn’t care. All I wanted was the sex, but I was happy to heighten the experience for him as long as it didn’t interfere with my pleasure.
My attitude was supposed to be forceful, and I took that seriously. When I could tell my partner was struggling to breath I did not relent, but pushed things further, for a bit longer. I was fucking his face, which meant he was not only having a tough time breathing, but also choking and gagging quite a bit. This was the plan though, and I admit I was thoroughly enjoying myself.
The blindfold kept going askew though, leaving a good portion of an eye exposed. This meant that if I had been taking things seriously I’d have been sorely disappointed, but all I really felt was mild irritation every time we had to readjust it. Anonymity was not key for me, just a willing hole to plunge my cock into.
When we first started I half jokingly asked; “You want me to basically show zero concern for your ability to breath, and ignore the gagging and choking, is that correct?” and he made it clear that was exactly what he wanted. I suppose the hands cuffed behind his back were supposed to aid in at least the illusion that he was not in control, but they were made of a material that was stretchable, and fastened with velcro so it was easy for him to escape them. Numerous times he pulled free so that he could push me away, but of course I was paying attention, and had my dick out of his mouth before he truly needed to do anything at all. The last thing I wanted was to literally suffocate him.
I rode the elevator with this guy to his floor, and he led me to his room. Putting on a blindfold didn’t suddenly erase the fact that we’d seen each other, so it was obviously not necessary. It was part of an illusion, just like the velcro handcuffs that anyone could escape. If they don’t actually bind your wrists together, what good are they except as ornamentation maybe? I get the psychological element but if you can peek around the blindfold and slip free of the bondage why not just pretend without the props?
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friend news
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Posted:Mar 5, 2024 7:40 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 843 Views
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There’s news I put in my posts, and then there’s the more personal, yet equally banal news I tell my friends. Just like I’m not likely to share a detailed account of my sexual escapades with some of my close friends, I’m also not likely to share a detailed description of my stomach issues with my readers. It’s not that I’m keeping it private from either side, it’s just that I take my audience into consideration. My friend Brien doesn’t mind hearing the occasional tidbit about my sex life, but he is not into hearing me regale him with the tale of how I fucked some guy in the ass through a glory hole the other night. Some of you might not want to read that either, which is why my blog is so varied, but there are just some “normal” things that don’t come out unless I’m maybe desperate for material. Things like…
For 4 / four straight days I have had a normal poop. This is significant because I have serious stomach issues, and have lived with certain people who know of my difficulties. To share this with them would be like celebrating a milestone, because they know the history, but you’re probably just shrugging your shoulders and wondering what the big deal is. And the subject matter is, well…
I’ve been spending more and more time without earplugs or earbuds in, and even went an entire hour in a public library, on a busy day, without losing my patience due to a misophonia reaction. Again; I have a close friend who shares my struggles with misophonia, and would totally be celebrating with me when she heard this, but most of you probably haven’t read the few posts I’ve put up about my issues with it. You might Google misophonia and get an idea of what it is, but unless you’re familiar with the intense struggle I’ve been having for the past several years the fact that I sat in a library without headphones on won’t even seem noteworthy. But to some of my friends, this is important news.
Things like how well rehabilitation on my hip are going will likely not elicit the kind of reaction I would hope for here, but when I tell my friends how much better I am doing the smile on their faces brings me a spurt of pride. They were there when I was in the hospital bed, and now they can celebrate the fact that my mobility is actually far beyond what was predicted. In the eyes of an average doctor, I am fully recovered, but for me there is still progress to be made. That being said, where I am 2 / two years after my accident is definitely noteworthy.
So there’s some “friend” news I wanted to share with my few silent “friends” lurking in the shadows…
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the kindness of (not so) strangers
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Posted:Mar 4, 2024 11:15 am
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2024 7:41 pm 925 Views
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I’ve always said my readers were the quietest people in the world. I’ve been doing this blogging thing for decades now, and in that time I’ve been able to track the fact that thousands were reading, but only a scant few interacting. My silent audience, lurking in the shadows as it were. Every once in a while though, someone will let me know that they’ve been keeping track of me via my blog. Most of the time it’s someone I have at least a bit of history with, even if it’s only the previous sharing of intimacy, and exchanging of bodily fluids. Men and women I’ve done nothing more than have sex with will pop up, out of the blue, years after we last spoke. It’s the sort of thing that’s been happening for as long as I can remember.
My promise to remain bluntly honest when I write is never compromised, because I have no reason for it to be. When I was posting on the gay massage site you can bet I steered clear of certain topics, and kept particular opinions to myself, but that’s because it was my job to do so. Here, I don’t have to do that, because making someone angry doesn’t mess with my pocketbook. And even though I am aware that people I know might be reading, I am never certain when, so trying to be false or manipulative would be pointless. I don’t post in an attempt to passive aggressively slight someone anymore than I write about how rough my life is hoping somebody will “save me” from my situation. If I wanted that, I’d bluntly ask for it, because that is how I communicate.
Despite all of this, or maybe because of it, a former massage (turned friend with an ass I love to fuck) reached out to me via text message. He said he’d been reading my blog recently, and the posts about my current living situation (living in a van) caught his eye. In a nutshell; super low temperatures are slated for the next few days, and he was offering me a place to sleep for a couple nights. You can imagine how surprised and delighted this made me. Being an antisocial introvert means not having many friends, but those I do show they care with actions, when I seemingly need them the most. This I say to my delight, because lately I’ve been needing a bit more than usual.
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van life: a cold snap
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Posted:Mar 3, 2024 10:17 am
Last Updated:Mar 4, 2024 11:14 am 865 Views
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ANOTHER POST DENIED BECAUSE THE STUPID ALGORITHM RUNNING THIS IDIOTIC SITE DOES NOT WORK...
Being homeless is bad enough, but at least I have decent shelter from the elements. Where I live, the average temperature at night is low 30’s and never reaches 50 during the day. It is constantly raining, and if that weren’t bad enough there is a nasty bit of wind added to the mix. In my van, I struggle to keep the temperature in the low 60’s by idling with the heater on occasionally. My inability to afford gas is the main reason I don’t sit with it on for hours at a time, but I admit I fear it breaking down on me as well. A while back I fell asleep in the middle of the night while it was warming up, and when I woke the “check engine” light was flashing at me. I’ve seen it on before, but never flashing, so I’m really scared to make it happen again.
If I could find a parking garage with a bit of shelter I might try it out, just to get away from the rain a bit. As soon as I get the van comfortable, I'll shut it off, and the cold starts to seep in immediately. I can set up a thermometer and actually watch the temperature fall as I sit there. This cold snap is supposed to last at least a week, and apart from going into the public library I have no real respite from the van. I can go grocery shopping, or maybe to the thrift store, but all outside activity is currently on the rough side of uncomfortable for me. I cannot hop on my bike and accomplish things if I have to return to a cold van, so I’m basically biding my time for now. And that’s exactly what my daily routine feels like.
When it gets warmer, with a bit less precipitation, I will get back on my bike and seek out some new areas in which to park the van. I’ll also go back to riding to the grocery store, instead of wasting gas by driving there. Right now, the thought of walking from my vehicle to the front door of a business is highly unappealing, let alone covering a few miles each way, so I admit I am wussing out big time. If my life is going to get worse before it gets better I’m going to get that out of the way now, during this particularly rough “snap” so that when it ends I am ready (hopefully) to rocket forward and up! I’ve gone down far enough, it’s time to make some progress.
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tappin' ass
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Posted:Mar 2, 2024 10:57 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1067 Views
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Despite a recent claim to the contrary, I enjoy anal sex quite a bit. I do, however, have a serious aversion to feces, so I am hesitant to participate in it with total strangers. When I had oodles of anal sex with my very kinky girlfriend she was an absolute expert at prepping herself, and making sure she was clean. I can’t rely on people I don’t know to do the same.
Still, I do love fucking an ass, so sometimes when I get the opportunity I indulge. Occasionally it’s with someone I know and trust a bit more, but sometimes it is indeed a completely random stranger. I ask the appropriate questions about diseases, hygiene and cleanliness, then put my trust in the person answering. I also tend to follow my gut in situations like this.
There was an occasion recently where I did partake of a very smooth, sweet ass and enjoyed myself immensely. It made me long for a regular partner, whom I could trust, and build up a bit of stamina with. Yes, it felt so good that I reached orgasm quickly, which wasn’t as gratifying as taking a while to build up to it. The excitement of the moment can be dulled with repeat visits to the same hole, but first time around I almost always cum quickly.
I lasted as long as I could, dumped my load, then pulled out a package of baby wipes from my hoodie pocket and wiped myself off really well. Later I would go to the bathroom and do a more thorough job of it. My squeamishness threatens to ruin moments like this, but it didn’t this time around. I left feeling better for the adventure I’d had, and confident I’d likely do it again if given the same opportunity. Because let me tell you; sometimes I really like tappin’ that ass!
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van life: the beginning
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Posted:Feb 29, 2024 10:50 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1116 Views
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With a few weeks under my tires, and some pretty foul weather coming this week, I thought I’d write about how being homeless and living in a van has been so far.
This last weekend I spent the majority of my time in the apartment of a friend who was gone with his family for a few days. It was my first taste of normalcy since officially declaring my van as home, and I’ll admit it felt a bit odd at times. I caught myself longing for my vehicle more than I would have anticipated, but equally reticent to return to it once Sunday arrived. The irony is that my days spent in the apartment were sunny and warm, but now that I’m back in the van there’s a storm advisory threatening low temperatures. As I sit here and write this, it is colder outside than it is in my mini fridge.
I woke this morning to a light version of frozen rain. By the end of the day I’d actually witnessed a hail storm, but I also saw the sunshine more than once. All of this is to say that I am doing my best to remain comfortable, but nighttime is the worst. I go to sleep and it’s perhaps 50 / fifty degrees in the van but when I wake up in the middle of the night it has sometimes dropped as much as 20 / twenty degrees. That’s what it’s like in the mornings right now. I wear multiple layers of clothing to bed, and soon enough I am pulling my blanket over my entire body to trap in the heat from my breath. It’s unpleasant but not horrible.
The upsides to van life increase as I get used to it. The level of noise I no longer have to deal with is surprising, and if I’m not too stubborn I can simply start the vehicle and drive away if something does come up. This morning I found myself irritated by the horrific buzz of a leaf blower, and at first I was determined to remain where I was parked and deal with it, then decided it was better to just drive a few blocks away and come back later. It worked pretty well too. I’ll admit the leaf blower was still running when I returned, but I was able to exit the vehicle and go inside a building where it could not be heard. That sort of flexibility is key to attaining the kind of positivity I’m trying to be content with for now.
When I get a job, the places I park will change. Unless I find something in the area, chances are I’ll be searching for a new spot to stay while I am sleeping. So far I’ve been frequenting some of the same places, while trying to still remain unobtrusive, and there have been no confrontations. Nobody has asked me why I’ve parked on the side of the street for the last few weeks, but it’s bound to happen sooner or later. My hope is to find a less conspicuous spot once the weather gets warmer, and I can go scouting on my bicycle. Driving around looking for the perfect place to park would not be good for my pocketbook, which gets a little lighter every day.
This is not, by any means, an unpleasant experience. Sure there are moments of discomfort, maybe even misery, but they are brief compared to the lighter, brighter, calmer moments I am able to enjoy. Sounds don’t plague me nearly as much as they were, and my overall attitude remains upbeat. I’m convinced that if I just persevere the job thing will fall into place, and if that does happen the next step is to find a companion. I’d very much like to get me a girlfriend but if I have to settle for a furry friend I will. I am so damn lonely…
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is that all you're into?
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Posted:Feb 28, 2024 11:06 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1327 Views
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He’d been hounding me for nearly a week, trying to get me to let him into my van so he could jerk off while I watched. I’m not sure what took me so long to set the date but I think his inability to communicate very well on the hookup app had a bit to do with it.
I was parked in the parking lot of a thrift store, but as far away from the front door as possible. It was a private enough area, and I’d been parking there off and on for a while, so I was extra confident we wouldn’t be disturbed. This was only my 2nd / second time doing this but I was not nervous at all.
When he arrived he parked next to the passenger side of the van, and seemed to hesitate a bit before getting out of his car and into my vehicle. Once inside though, he was grabbing at his crotch rather quickly. I uttered a few words of reassurance while locking the doors, and he glanced into the back of the van before committing to fully exposing himself. Meanwhile, my pants were already around my ankles, my cock unbelievably hard.
His dick was rather impressive, and it was all I could do to not reach out and touch it right away. We were both clearly, genuinely aroused, and I had to tell him several times to slow down and not cum. I also asked him not to do so all over the interior of the van, and he promised to dump his load on his own stomach. We stroked while watching each other, and as he grew more comfortable he leaned back, spread his legs more, and moved his body towards mine. Eventually I did wind up stroking his cock, and fondling his balls, but it was more exploratory and less with any real sense of purpose.
I think the guy was primed to orgasm when he got into the van, and did his best to hold out as long as he could. The moment was definitely exciting for me as well, but I found myself in complete control, barely close to orgasm, and simply enjoying myself. He blew his wad, I handed him a paper towel to wipe off, and then he was on his way. Before he left he asked if what we’d just done was all I was into and I replied that it was. He was watching me put my still quite rigid cock back into my pants, but did not express any desire to suck or stroke it. If he had, I might have relented, but in the end I’m glad things played out the way they did. It left me aching for more which means I’ll likely be blogging about another sexual adventure very soon!
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a plethora (of gay men)
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Posted:Feb 26, 2024 11:10 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1289 Views
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I don’t spend much time in the nearest “big” city - i.e. Portland, Oregon - and in fact haven’t been downtown for over a month. If/when I am there, it is almost invariably for business, or at least was while I was doing the whole gay massage thing. I’d ride the few miles on my bicycle, see a , and then head back home to Milwaukie. During those times my libido was spoken for, so I never had the need to be on the hookup site I frequent, looking for satisfaction. My basic experiences revolved around my neighborhood, not downtown Portland.
I had occasion to be there on President’s Day though, and it was because of a person on the hookup site. I was supposed to be meeting him in his hotel room, to film him sucking my cock. My van was in the shop, so I went on the bike, and managed to arrive much earlier than I’d anticipated. It was kind of cold and miserable outside, and the thought of waiting around in that for nearly an hour did not appeal. To distract myself, I got on the hookup site to look at other profiles, and to see if the guy I was supposed to meet might be available earlier than scheduled. It was during that time I happened upon a guy that truly appealed - even more so than the person I was planning to see. I was not about to be an asshole and cancel, but I needed to meet this other person and see how much pleasure he could provide.
This is not a post where I get into the sexy details; I just wanted to mention that when I opened up the app for the hookup site I was amazed at the number of members in the area. I was so used to seeing the same pictures, same personal ads, same profiles from my area that it genuinely surprised me. Milwaukie is nothing like downtown Portland, as you can imagine. There was a plethora to choose from, and the one other notable thing is that it was a holiday. That means what I saw was likely a mere fraction of what is normally available. If I was an endlessly horny guy I’d just make sure to stop by the area once or twice a day, and likely be completely satiated.
Downtown Portland is apparently FULL of horny men!
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do I miss it?
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Posted:Feb 24, 2024 3:33 pm
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:35 am 1273 Views
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My days as a gay masseur are officially over, with only a few random men sending me text messages here and there to potentially book a session at a later date. I am “retired” - or at least that’s what I tell people. I’ll still do it as a paying hobby though, and so far only one person has contacted me about that. I’m sure there will be others.
I was asked if I missed doing gay massage, and the truth is that there are some aspects I definitely pine for a bit. I miss the intimacy and excitement, but not the drama, and I certainly long for the hourly pay while feeling genuine relief because I’m no longer dealing with the fakes, flakes, liars and so on. It was a good job, that could be very gratifying, but also tedious and annoying. That sounds like most jobs, doesn’t it?
If I wanted to put myself out there and give free massages so I could experience the intimacy again I could, but I don’t miss it that much. When I’m not making a dime on my interactions with men I tend to be completely selfish, and often want to get right to the point. Massage was about helping feel comfortable and getting them to lower their inhibitions, but I don’t need to do that when there are tons of eager sluts ready and willing to do what I want, without the need for me to do much more than command it. I don’t have to work for blowjobs, hand jobs, or anything like that.
It really boils down to a couple of things; the pay, and the effect I had on my . I miss the money, and I miss helping men relax, open up and explore their desires. Some were genuinely fun, and I’d love to see them again, but I’m not rushing to do so for free. In the end, being a masseur was like doing any other job, and I no more miss it than I miss my time working at pizza shops or gas stations when I was young. If given the opportunity, I would do it again, but mainly for the money, the freedom to chose when I work, and with whom. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it was work, especially for my libido. So do I miss it? Not really…
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