Blast...Back Again

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He messaged me. Shocking, I know. After several years of hoping, wanting, even begging a porn performer or two to let me fuck and breed them, Draven Torres messages me out of the blue. Now I'm not so presumptuous to think everyone knows me and he didn't. He had no idea of this online persona. And, mind you, while this incredibly beautiful specimen of manliness does escort, he did not hit me up for cash. He saw my cock and wanted to be fucked. Hey, everyone gets horny. I went over. First, he is better looking in person. Now that's odd to saw considering just how fucking hot he is in his photographs, but photos fail to relay how a smile can literally light up this guy's face... or the room. He's got a hint of deviousness with an underpinning of pure, smoldering masculinity. Considering that I'm 6-foot-3 and he's 5-foot-5, there's a height difference but surely still he filled the room. When we kissed — yes, I kissed him first — he proved to be incredibly t...

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Meeting fans of my blog is always a little risky. There is the stalker element. I've been stalked before but not for this blog. In fact, I've been stalked twice for completely different reasons and very strange results. One was just a mental case. Literally. The other is a story I need to reserve for an entry. While on my trip to Key West, a few fans of the blog did recognize me. I'd partially hoped for a few folks who wanted to have a beer and maybe chat a little, show me the sleazier side of town. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. Mostly, men just want a sample of my DNA. I guess men want to compare the bravado of the blog to the dick in real life. Not sure how many of those men go home disappointed or really happy. Among them was a man who messaged me first on Scruff, as you can see. I've altered things a bit. He popped up early in the week then went offline and practically disappeared. I began to wonder whether I'd get him. Truth be told, another man kept...

It's funny how things don't work out the way one plans. I arrived in Key West on a Wednesday night. I expected a build-up of ass to peak with a crescendo over the weekend and a tapering off until I left the following Wednesday. Alas, that did not occur. Not that I was hunting for a hole. In a way, I expected it to find me. I had offers, but I decided to be a bit picky rather than accepting just any ass thrown my way. Interestingly, I think the whole relaxing and doing nothing actually calmed down my hormones and made me crave ass less. Plus I got my fill of naked boys and attention at clothing-optional destinations including my B&B and the nightclubs I frequented. After the weekend concluded and Monday inched along, that itch rose a bit and I realized I'd built a hefty load in my balls that needed to find a home — and soon. Unfortunately, BBRT showed little sign of life, with Scruff and Grindr not too far behind and Jack'd so far netted me nothing. I posted on Craig...

When I arrive in a town like Boston, BBRT lights up. Am I recognized? By a few. New meat?  That's it. I think the bareback community occasionally craves that fresh injection of DNA into the murky mix. It's so nice to log on and find 10 or 15 messages waiting to be read. Now some buttwipes fail to read the most basic information, even in my own BBRT profile, I have a few requirements (don't fucking smoke), but otherwise, I'll be interested based on how things go in our conversation. Such is what happened with one such hot bottom. Truth is, I had two very different men that were definite possibilities and one dark horse in the race for my cum on the one night I was in town. The dark horse? A muscle bottom from Montana visiting Boston. Fuck if when I saw his bubble butt ass and thick thighs, I didn't want to get my cock between his muscular cheeks and get him to squeeze. The other bottom followed me on Twitter. He was fucking beefy and totally hot. But timing sucked as...

One of my favorite ads (and one of the most popular to get responses on Craigslist) is one calling for "room service" in my hotel room. It sets up an anonymous fuck scene that, for some reason, seems to attract some hot ass and, in many cases, bisexuals who don't want locals to know they crave the dick. On my recent travels out West, the ad worked its charm and I got several responses. But despite a very hot (gay) 23-year-old, I chose the bisexual 35-year-old who was sneaking around on his girlfriend. As I've outlined of late, I've got a couple of things that can really bug me: Men who smoke and men who send fake photos. My top choice sent hot, hot, hot photos and promised he was a non-smoker. The room service scene keeps the lights off. The victim... err... bottom comes in, disrobes, sucks me hard, and then lays flat on the bed for me to fuck them until I cum. The bottom is then supposed to suit up and leave. The bisexual arrived a little late, but still followed...

I've written much too often of my affinity for Asian ass. It goes without saying that the tight and smooth ass of this Far East delicacy can be one which I enjoy immensely, although I am an equal opportunity fucker and find other flavors equally amazing. When visiting the West Coast, I am afforded a greater opportunity to indulge in this delicious flavor and sometimes solicit it. Such was the case during my recent visit to Northern California when I posted a Craigslist ad asking for Asian Ass to fuck. I'd been specific and requested my usual non-smoking variety. When it comes to Asians, age makes no difference. The saying regarding African Americans that "black doesn't crack" refers to their youthful appearance. It seems Asians don't turn to raisins. They're smooth until they're fucking ancient. I got several hits from my ad but the one that kept my attention was a delicate Taiwanese just up I-880 from me. He wanted to host and be ass up and waiting. S...

Coming from a link-up on the web, I'd noticed him in a geographic search and he'd come up less than 15 miles away — a feat indeed. We did the normal exchange and he wanted to come for a fuck. A mix between Asian and Latino, his photos seemed more Asian, but when he arrived, he spoke with a thick Latin accent. He stood pretty damn short too at five-foot-three inches and a shaved bald head. Despite his age in his early 40s, his skin was smooth and taut over his muscles as he stripped and we got right down for business. No chit chat with him, he climbed up and as I reached for his pecs, I soon learned the key to his ass would be his pecs and nipples. Years ago, I'd experienced a boyfriend with nipples so sensitive that I learned to cause him to shoot just but playing with them. It's a skill I've never lost since the door opener to the poop chute tends to be the nipple highway. So as I worked his nips, he began to grind on my cock against his hole. I didn't take lon...

We "met" on the web and got down to business quickly, just the kind of fuck sometimes I really like. His request was simple. He wanted to arrive at my hotel, find my room unlocked, step in, and the room would be completely dark. He would strip naked then walk to find me naked on the bed. He'd lick and suck me hard. Then he'd climb on board. That's practically exactly what happened. The one thing about totally dark rooms is how difficult it is to create totally dark. Light creeps in through odd spaces and, after a moment in the dark, your eyes adjust and you can see just fine.  This is especially true on the 24th floor in Las Vegas with giant windows that with curtains that allow the lights of the Strip to bleed around all the edges and give the room an eerie glow. As his small frame approached, I had the advantage, as my eyes had already adjusted to the lowered light. Although hunched a bit, he probably stood five-foot-six-inches and no more than 130 pounds. His a...

Despite the promise of these new smartphone applications, neither Scruff nor Grindr nets me much ass. Generally, I find them somewhere between mildly entertaining and irritating, as the guys on there generally want photos, photos, and more photos. One bottom near me in Georgia can't seem to recall what I look like despite the fucking full-frontal face pic on the front of my profile. For some reason, one day in Vegas, my Scruff was simply blowing up. Grindr also worked, although what I got was a cute lady-boy escort (in male drag) hinting he wanted "dinner and conversation." I declined. The pancake makeup with the petroleum jelly lens effect on his photo was just too much. If I wanted to fuck a girl, I'd fuck a girl. I don't. So on Scruff, which seems a less twinkie place, presented a Montana man for me, I got the urge to merge. He stood on the beefy side of things, which proved fine by me. He was just a couple of hotels over — still a hike in Vegas, but close enou...

I began my little adventure in Vegas with a fuck fest, inviting several over to my hotel room. An orgy is something like a soup. You dump a lot of ingredients into a pot, add some heat, and hope the flavors meld together. As with any culinary experiment, some things don't go perfectly the first time around. But some things do. The Asian and his top friend (I believe more like a boyfriend) who arrived first turned out to be quite a pair. If you find the ass photo appealing, you don't know the half of it. I've had bossy bottoms before. Generally, they break down into two categories: Prissy. Prissy bitchy. He was neither. All man. All Asian. All bottom. All smooth. All hot. And he knew what he wanted. Three of us in the room, two were tops. There were way too many people with clothes and fuck if he was going to put up with that shit. His humor was captivating. I really enjoy someone who knows that sex can't be too serious. The other top, like me, had a geekish appeal. But ...

Arriving in Vegas is always an adventure. This time, it turned a little bumpy as, believe it or not, a thunderstorm awaited on our approach to this desert oasis. The bumpy landing ended with a smooth enough transition into the airport and soon I was among the throngs of humanity at McCarran awaiting bags. No one picked me up. No one welcomed me. And I waited in the humongous taxi line like everyone else until finally pitched into the back of a cab and sent scurrying off to my "resort" destination. I'm smart enough to know a good cab driver in Vegas and he recognized someone who'd been here before, so he avoided the Strip and approached my hotel from the back, getting me there quickly and efficiently, earning himself a decent tip. My room got an upgrade and soon I was online to see if I could procure an ass. Coming from the East Coast makes the time thing a little challenge, although jet lag always seems to be a little easier going back. The wet weather helped with the...

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Boston happened last but I'm giving it to you first. I do try to let folks know when and where I'm going, especially through here and my profile on the web, as I did when I notified everyone of a Northeast tour including a stop in Boston. As per usual, I get a lot of interest — some from the usual crowd of people who have no idea about this blog and others who do. Two men served to provide me with bountiful interest upon my travel to the city with one promising a great deal. And, as usual, I found the dates postponed. A small rant: Why is it after all the bullshit is out of the way and you're about to hook does the guy ask, "So how long are you in town?" When you answer, your first night in town is never good for them and, well, they inevitably put it off until just before you're off to the airport. Fuck that. Anyway, the older muscle guy bailed and the younger twink never seriously committed so I kept cruising for a real bottom. I lucked out on the web with a...

On my most recent trip, I scooted south to the Los Angeles megaplex — quite a different vibe than Northern California where I've been frequenting of late. Moreover, I was in town for a lovely, lovely tradeshow. If in your career, you've never had the esteemed pleasure of working a tradeshow, then you've missed experiencing what I am certain would become a modern ring of hell if Dante were alive to write about it today. A bunch of people gathers in a space to set temporary campgrounds of marketing marvels and give away shit to others forced to visit because their bosses were too lazy to go. Oh, and you smile a lot. And act interested. I think local homes drop off Alzheimer's patients as a stimulating experience for them. We have to be nice in our booths because we are hoping for prospective customers to stop by. Anyway, it's in this setting where my first gentleman caller pops up. His body, as you can see, is perfection. His nipples are just divine. Smooth. Gorgeous....

When it comes to the California journey, this time turned out a lot better than last. And the effort netted three beautiful asses in which I deposited my DNA. #1, Cumslut The first proved to be your common, everyday cumslut. He wanted cum and would take it any way I'd give it. Now I like cum-hungry bottoms. There's not a damn thing wrong with bottoms who know their place. That said, often-used bottoms often end up with sloppy asses that aren't exactly tight around a cock. The question becomes how he works a cock. The technique is everything for a bottom. This little slut relied on one thing: Movement of his body. His muscles in his ass never contracted around my cock to increase the friction. Disappointing. However, since I wondered on my journeys whether I'd be lucky enough to find more ass, I dumped a load anyway, which he gladly accepted. #2, Nailing Rusty Rusty wasn't his real name but got to give him some creativity for coming up with something other than Ryan ...

I am not crazy about blowjobs except as a prelude to fucking. My evening began with the usual bullshit I've found here in the East Bay/South Bay area. One guy I hoped for was going to "check where I was" then sent a nasty note about 30 minutes later and said since he didn't hear back from me to forget it. Dude, you were figuring where I was. I invited you. Funny thing, he supposedly was in the same fucking town. One beautiful Asian guy does deserve a little extra OOMPH though. We started exchanging messages on BarebackRT.com so we're already on the same page. Then as I'm about to close the deal, he asks what "iBLASTinside" means. You know, some people just aren't all that smart. I explain. "Do you always blast inside?" he asks. "Yup," I respond. We're on a bareback site and, for bottoms, that's usually a turn-on. "No exceptions?" He's asking. Now maybe he likes to be held down? "What's up?" ...