Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Have you ever tried holding your breath during an orgasm?

I'm not a fan of snuff porn, but I must admit the infamy it carries fascinates me - how much more sensational the climax gets when you choke the lights out of the victim. Mind you, I haven't seen one legitimately. Not that I'd want to. Maybe if I'd see one in passing. By accident. Then I would't mind. But if I proactively sought one out and viewed it, I might have to rinse my eyes with muriatic acid. Okay, I might be exaggerating. I just don't want to be witness to a murder. Just the sex and the climax should be fine. That magical moment when the orgasm escorts the life out of the victim. It's said to be precious.

I'd like to have that moment.

And preferably survive it too. I don't really fancy the thought of trying it out with a stranger, and the people I trust enough with my life aren't exactly the people I wanna touch that way either. Okay, maybe there's one or two, but one or both can't because they're committed. So we go for best effort.

I hold my breath.

Update - Three attempts throughout the day and it's just really silly.

Friday, September 23, 2011

That dark little corner.

Sometimes all it takes is a line from a unassumingly sad song to take me there. The windows are covered by thick layers of curtains and the light draws along the ceiling's edge's in worried yellow to a forever sunset. The floor is smooth waxed red with a stark chill to the touch. And when air is hard to breathe, but you have no choice. The walls aren't what they seem. They look like they're closing on you but they're miles apart. Its filled with a very heavy empty and you're right smack in the center. And that song whispers that one line over and over again. Then everything fades to black and you think it's all over. But it hasn't even started really.


Not even 32 orgasms can save you. I've counted. It's a pretty sad state really. But to be honest, this is my element. And I do remember a lot of great creative spikes in such a state. But it still sucks. And I attest to the truth that having abs does not make having a boyfriend any easier.

But where exactly are all these coming from? Some months ago, I learned my ex has been seeing someone for some time now. A few weeks ago, I learned he had invited the new guy to live with him. Too soon I think, but hey, I wasn't judging. From all his travels and life much around the world, I just wished he got a lover that has no connection to me or to this small world I live in. Why did he have to be with someone whom a huge chunk of my friends know, is of the same racial origin as me, and is also physically fit (if not fitter). There's that bit of comparison that I heard from some folks, and even if it was to my favor, it still sucks to be compared. Feeling a bit Aniston here. And after all these years (since we broke up) I await that day he finally speaks up about how bland he felt living with me despite him saying that I was the one (first) guy who taught him how to love. Bleh.

Apparently, I am still very human. Next orgasm please.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Where is the baggage counter?

When I began my journey of dating older men (same time I began dating men per se), some good friends warned me of one thing that came with dating such individuals - with age comes baggage. And we're not just talking about the Louis Vuittons, Hermeses, Pradas, and such. We're talking more of formed biases, aged opinions, stubborn stands, mostly emotional in nature.

Earlier, I thought about this as I break-off a nuisance online "friendship" (using it for lack of a better term, since I wouldn't consider this character a friend even) and it hits me. My bag's filling up. Over breakfast, I take a couple of steps back to see some stuff I have stashed in my emotional bag and to my surprise, the list has grown unassumingly full and bitter with chock-full of dating and relationship details.

Let me share some of them.

1) If I had the power to command Ragnarok/the Apocalypse/end of the world, I'd have it strike Switzerland first for breaking my heart.

2) I will never set foot in Paris, France (I actually have a blacklist for countries/places that broke my heart).

3) Never date a New Yorker.

4) Never date someone from a broken family.

5) Never date someone from a rich family.

6) Never fall in love. Let them fall in love with me (this one my dad taught me).

7) Marry up (this I learned from my boss).

8) Never date anyone from my industry (it's okay to fuck some, just not date them).

I could go on, but really it's not a happy list and I am not particularly jovial about the state of my date-life or absence thereof. And even the prospect of slimming further down and gaining a killer-er bod does help arrest this notion. I learned that although you get more sex prospects, having a tiny waist and six-packs does not get you a boyfriend/husband. Don't get me wrong, I am enjoying this side of the scale. I was merely expressing fact.


But what I am worried of is growing into a bitter old fag who can't even fake a smile because even his lips are held down by over-packed bitter baggage. Six-pack and all.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Apologies, dear readers.

Forgive me for my delinquent presence. The past few months have been physically hard on me. I embarked on a personal pilgrimage to working out while leaving an owning presence on other elements of my life, including work. Yes. Work. In the end, it all worked out. Not only did I get a killer bod (seriously more killer than you thought - meaning meat, abs and all) but I also got a promotion at work. But don't let me bore you with professional stuff. Let's get back to being anonymously personal.

So the big question that I have been asked by friends who observed the great changes I have undergone was "How's the sex?" Honestly, few and far in between. I dunno, but there seems to be something about being hotter that makes you want to go for quality activity partners as well. I mean, it's definitely easier to get head at the gym lockers and such (considering it was already so easy to do so before), but on the other side, as conceited as this sounds, doing all that hard work only to be blown by some random plain Joe in the lockers is quite a waste.

As another friend puts it, when one loses weight, gets abs, and undergoes good physical change, they either become nicer or bitchier. Guess which one I ended up as.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

"Guys like you, don't go well with guys like me."

I said as I stared towards the cityscape on a wet evening. We stood on the roof deck of his house, by the pool, as he stole less than half an hour of my sleep time. He wanted to be with me even for just one cig. I obliged. He is after all, a pretty likable fellow.

Actually, he was more than likable. He was made. Self made. Creative. Excitable. Smart. And quite the gentleman at that. Let's not go into his physique. I wouldn't even entertain him if he would be not my type. But yeah, pecs, six packs and all. He is a beautiful man.

He is also out of my league. Men like him, new rich, self made or those who enjoy a certain level of lifestyle, though sometimes fun for me, just don't take me seriously. If this were SATC, he would be Big. But in my world, men like Big, don't take guys like me seriously.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Avoiding a possible conflict in conversation, I changed the topic and asked him to take me home since it was late and the morning person in me was already being tortured.

In the car he leaned over to buckle my seatbelt and in the process, ran his nose from the base of my neck to my ear. I turned my head to meet his lips. I felt his tongue rush in, but I pressed against it. And pulled my head away.

I smiled.

He grabbed my left hand and began the drive.

Earlier he wanted to introduce me to his sisters over dinner. But I was not comfortable with the idea so I made up some excuse. Later tonight he is invited me over for a casual dinner socials with some family and friends at their wonderful home. As of this moment, I am waiting for a reason why I shouldn't go to come flying into my fingertips.

He ran held my hand against his inner thigh. My fingers ran up and down the seam of his pants.

"We can't have sex." I said.

"Eh? What made you think I was leading to that?"

"Look at me in the eyes and tell me the thought didn't cross your mind and isn't in your mind right now."

He looked at me and smiled at me. I kissed him on the kips and thank him for the company and the ride home.

This is why I do what I do, the sex and all, because the men I want to have relationships with are out of my league. The ones who want relationships with me are not in my league. But whoever man I get in bed, my league or not, it's all fair play until we hit up past foreplay.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

What would it take?

I noticed that I have had a spike in readership the past few days. A huge spike. And it makes me happy. Like really happy.

But!

I also notice that I still only have ten (10) Google Friend Connect followers. So I was wondering, what it would take for you to follow me back using that. Or are you guys following me in some other way I cannot seem to track? That'd be nifty too.

Lemme know. Comment below.

Meanwhile, a blast from the past! One of my most favorite entries begs for a reprise. Enjoy!

Friday, June 10, 2011

Check out the hyperlinks!

Earlier I got to work out at the local gym with a friend-slash-reader. Got to tour him around some of the hot new trainers and new gym layout since he hasn't been to this club in a while now. When we were done, we hit the sauna where I gave him a rundown of where is where and what is what. I pointed out to him which part of the room he should sit at when he want to give head, where to sit when he wants to receive head, etc. My friend was lucky enough to witness an entry come to life when we bumped into this creature of habit inside the sauna.

Well almost. No sex took place between me and my friend, between me and the creature of habit, or between the two of them. I wasn't really feeling in tip-top shape. Neither were they. Or maybe three was just a crowd. Right...

Coincidentally, this friend of mine has been a subject of a few entries.

And cut!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

All in my head.

Despite all the sex I get while I am single, and I have been single for a very long time now, there are some mornings I wake up to the cold rain wishing some warm body was beside me. Relax. I am not about to write a mushy-gushy "I miss my ex" entry. There are times I do though. But that's a story that's long over. He has moved on. I have moved on. And I have fucked a lot since we last did. But cold rainy mornings like this don't help at all.

I've actually just touched myself. I opened up some porn videos and attempted to wank off over some. But for some strange reason, it just pushed me closer to that longing to have a warm body beside me. Sure I could call in for some benefriend to come over, but I doubt any would accommodate my need this early in the day. And it's raining. So what do I do? I remember. I remember some of the best sex I've had. Honestly, they were with my ex. After all we were together at a highly exploratory time in my life. Yes, there was a time I am more exploratory than I am now.

One of our favorite pastimes was watching porn together during downtime, Sunday afternoons and such. We'd be sprawled all over the bed with our boxers watching whatever new clip or movie we were able to download or acquire from friends. On one such instance, I remember lying belly down on the bed and as I watched, his hands gently tug my boxers down my knees, and his hands spread apart my cheeks, then I feel the tip of his nose just above my crack, right before his tongue does the work. His saliva lubes up a finger and sticks it right in, feeling whatever he can reach tenderly. he pulls it out and wets up another finger, puts it back in as I watch a guy drill a bottom's hole while another goes for his mouth.

We also enjoyed working out together at a local gym inside a hotel before going to work in the mornings. I love hotel gyms. They're showers are more often than not very conducive for sex. Most stall are designed as shower rooms, once the doors are closed, you wouldn't know what goes on as soon as water rushes out of the shower head. After training, I'd usually go strip and hit the showers first. He follows me with his eyes as I enter and leave the shower door unlocked. The water rinses the sweat off my skin, the ex then steps in to shower me with lust. He wouldn't pee on me. Well, not in this memory at least. He'd shove me up the tiled wall grabbing my nipple with one hand and harnessing my cock with another. At skin to skin, he'd push himself closer as his erection grows furious. His nose travels from my shoulder up my neck and his mouth touches my ear. Then I turn my head and gaze at the door's frosted glass watching people passing by as my tongue meets his.

Out-of-town trips happened as often as possible. There were times we'd be out by the beach every weekend. We're pretty lucky to live a few hours away from some of the nicer beaches here. And to reach most of them, we'd take a bearable bus ride from a nearby terminal at the city. We'd sit by the couple seats, the ones only two people can sit in (some can sit three), and leave town really early in the morning with the hopes of reaching the beach areas in time for a late lunch. Of course this goes without saying how chilly it is hence we'd be in our jackets or we'd use one as a blanket and share the warmth across our chest. I'd feign sleepiness and put my head down his shoulder, slowly working my way down his lap, hidden under the jacket. Fourth row, third, or way out at the back, it doesn't matter where we'd sit. I'd give him head as slowly as I could. As steady as I could. Can't have anyone notice my head bob up and down his lap on a smooth flat highway right? He'd feign sleep and silently shudder as he eventually arrives deliciously in my mouth.

So I remember a few more memories then I come. Then it hits me how it's all over as the drama rushes out with my climax.

You might think it's foolish of me to be jacking off over the memory of my ex. I don't think so. They're as much mine as they are his and I can do whatever I please with them. Such as writing them here for you to enjoy.

Sometimes, it's really all in the head. Though a good blowjob isn't that bad too.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Double Penetration

Two dicks. One ass. Same time.

"My partner can." said a message from a guy who was inviting me for a threesome. Reading my profile saying "TOP" they took it lightly as they initially invited me for a sandwich (I fuck his partner while he fucks me), which I chose not to accept due to emotional unpreparedness. The idea has been a long-standing fantasy of mine. I just never got around to finding the right guys to do it with. Don't you just hate it when opportunity knocks at your door but you're stuck taking a dump in the toilet so you can't let it in? Anyway, I finally agreed to the invitation to double fuck this guy's boyfriend. So as soon as the work day ended, I took a cab and made haste for their place, which wasn't too far away.

Let me tell you something about my hosts. It was a pretty quirky set-up between us because firstly, one of them was a dorm mate back in college. And I knew him to be a tall, lanky and extremely timid character who has yet come to terms with his sexual identity. Completely nice guy and completely in the closet. His boyfriend on the other hand claims that I had fucked him once or twice at the gym sauna. Which is odd, because I do remember the guys I've fucked. I may not get all of their names, but I do remember who they are and give them a smile and a wink when I see them around. So as I stood in front of their door, I had to throw out every bit of awkwardness I had thinking about hooking up with an old friend from school and an old fuck (which I still don't remember happening) from the gym. I knocked three times, got no response, so I turned the knob and found the door unlock. I let myself in. Along with every bit of awkward which stood just right behind me the whole time.

First guy I see was my old dorm mate. He stood at the end of his room and was surprised to see that the door was unlocked. He waved at me and told me to come on. The boyfriend remained in the room, fixing the sheets. Lovely place they had. I looked around, observing their decor, and turning about to find the boyfriend standing beside me. "The bathroom's over there, if you need to use it." he said. "Great. Thanks." I replied. So I did. And when I came out, I was ready.

Or so I thought.

Normally, on my way to a hook up, I get hard as I soon as I get up from where I sat. This erection stays until I arrive, we meet, and I come. Sometimes even after I come. Then I come again. Then it rests. And sometimes, it goes back up. This time, on the way, and even in the bathroom after taking a piss and readying myself, nothing. Who am I kidding here? My body was telling me that it wasn't the least bit turned on. And I should have left. But I didn't. Otherwise, this entry would end here.

So they invited me into the room. The whole time we probably used no more than nine words. The boyfriend pushed me in front of him and leaned in to my lips. I felt his arms grab my back then let go, then pulling in my college dorm mate behind me. The boyfriend pushed my face to the side meeting my my dorm mate's face. Then I closed my eyes real tight just as we began to make out. The boyfriend grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it off me in one swift go. My dorm mate's hands made his way to my torso and worked its way up to my chest where his fingers landed on my nipples. The boyfriend leaned in to kiss me while his hands unbuttoned my pants and undid my zipper. Moments like this, I make sure I have hot underwear on. If you wanted to know, I had red AussieBums on. That moment didn't last though as the boyfriend pulled out my member. The moment his touch landed on it, the flag ceremony began, hard tall and ready. In a few beats, they were on skin to skin. The boyfriend turned me around to kiss my dorm mate while he caressed me from behind and mildly jacking me off in the process.

I wasn't too surprised to find out my dorm mate was pretty hung. The boyfriend too had a nice fat cock. And they were all over me. So I guess we were a pretty hot trio.

Foreplay was cut short as the boyfriend grabbed the lube and my dorm mate grabbed rubber. The boyfriend lathered me up as he sucked my dorm mate who then rolled down the rubber on my eager member.

"Sit down here." the boyfriend commanded, urging me by the edge of the bed. With my feet on the floor and face facing the ceiling, comfortably lying down, the boyfriend welcomed me in. He rode me , all of me, with a slow tight motion as he grabbed my dorm mate's cock and continued sucking him off. The boyfriend then told him to move. Next thing you know, the boyfriend I could feel dorm mate's cock on mine as he slid inside his boyfriend.

"Fuck me..." the boyfriend whispered. So we did.

My dorm mate pummeled him. as he stood up to meet his kiss from over his shoulders and I lay there watching them. Throbbing inside him. Fucking them both. We swapped places, me and the dorm mate. He lay on the bed and I fucked the boyfriend from behind. It was my turn to thrust. And I had no intention of not pounding. It wasn't soon after that dorm mate released a heavy moan. "Oh!" he explained. I pulled out and saw his juice run down and out of his boyfriend's ass. I lay beside thema s they continued to kiss. My dorm mate then excused himself to wash up. As soon as we were alone the boyfriend grabbed me with the words, "Fuck me." My dorm mate then walks in as I banged him and he lay beside us with another erection.

The boyfriend was moaning louder now. he then gets up and begins to furiously jack his cock off, releasing on my torso and chest. I was making out with my college dorm mate as the boyfriend excused himself to wash up. When he got back in, he got another erection seeing me and my dorm mate jack off and make out. The boyfriend lay on my right and I began to suck his nipples. He began to touch himself again. My left leg was flirting with my dorm mate. And as we furiously wanked, I pulled in the boyfriend's lips to meet my tongue. Before you know it, the boyfriend began to breathe harder, faster, and his wanking became more furious. Until he let had his second, I my first, and his boyfriend's second soon after.

Three hours. Not bad. I stayed another two because we caught up with our lives and got to know my dorm mate all over again, this time as a proud gay man. And despite all that has happened, I still don't remember fucking his boyfriend at the gym. But that didn't stop us from discovering how fun people we are.

That's why we will be hanging out again.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Creatures of habit.

He sits right in front of the sauna door with his eyes fixed on the floor. Between us, an eerie silence and a few creeks from the wooden benches. His body glistens with sweat as beads form on his shoulders and upper chest. Slowly, the beads would trickle down his back. Down his chest and down to his torso. From the hint of yellow darkness in the room, the first thing I notice about him was his pierced left nipple. I've never come across a man, straight or otherwise, who won't have some fun with a fellow male from time to time. Then you notice how he sits down. Slightly slouched, abs lightly crunched. Pecs erotically resting right above the abdomen. He knows his assets. Yet he just sits there. Sexy. Never giving a glance of a care. Until the silence and creeks grow too loud, pushing him out to the showers.

This has been going on for weeks. He's my biggest mystery all summer long. I called him my weekend guy, as he frequents the gym I go to during the weekends. The time we spend in the sauna together, is the time I come in before I warm up and the time he has after cooling down. Then I work out as he steps out. I've never heard him utter a word. Just a small cough, very rarely released. We've had so many moments in the sauna alone. But we've never managed to do eye contact.

Until yesterday morning.

I came in a little earlier than usual since the class I join at the gym had a special schedule. So right before the workout, I decided to freshen up. I stepped in without gazing at whoever was inside, sat into the inner corner of the sauna, turned my head up and found him looking at the time on his watch. His towel rest loosely on his crotch and his butt sat bare on the wooden bench. Smooth. His skin had a sheen from the heat, sweat, and dim intentions of my eyes. His eyes lay fixed on the floor as he suddenly put his left hand over his abs, flat, fingers spread down to his bellybutton. Slowly. It was now or never.

"You're pretty early today. Done working out?" I asked.

He turned his head. Smiled lightly and said, "Not yet. Just about to start."

I smiled back. I couldn't believe it myself. He actually responded. And it caught me off-guard, so I had to get up and drink water at the fountain. When I got back, I stood beside the door, right in front of him. And we shared a bit of work out chit chat. He looked at me. I'd look at him. Then my eyes would look at his crotch. His towel was actually a bit soaked and it teased me. it taunted me. It called my name.

"Do you trip in the sauna?" I blurted out innocently.

He looked up at me, smiled, and looked away. But he smiled. So my hand reached down into his towel and straight for his cock. He looked at me.

"So, do you?" I asked.

Next thing you know, he was standing back by the door, cock in my mouth. I rose to reach his nipples with my lips while suggesting, with light pushes, to sit him inside where I continued going down on him until I heard him say "You're so good..." while whispering moans and then coming, right by my cheek.

As I wiped the lust from my face, we gave each other a look of satisfaction as our knuckles met, gently. He stood up and stepped out. As did I. Went to my class and had one hell of a workout.

Then we met up in the sauna after for a reprise.

Giving in...

I now tweet. Follow on for more of my misadventures. Who knows? I might even reply and we can take it from there.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Immersion (2/2)

I came. Toweled up and showered. He did too. Of course that wasn't what I came for. So upon rinsing off his lust around my cock, nipples and neck, I went back at the sauna. This time, finally taking that seat which the sucker earlier called his own.

Wasn't soon before I heard a locker door shut and locked. Someone was coming. A shadow passed by the glass door. Then I heard a shower run. Oddly this moment felt like the the time you await for your name to be called in a raffle. Will you win the appliance, the cash, or the "Sorry" card? Door opens.

Jackpot.

He was a "regular". And for a first in my little immersion, I'd rather suckle on a familiar penis. Not bad. He was a fat six-incher. Cut with a little loose skin under the head, if I remember correctly. He walked in and gave a glance. I nodded. He sat at the far end in front of the door.

"Come closer." I said.

He got up, grabbed the dipper and added more water to the stove. Then he sat adjacent to my legs. I smiled. Subtle. I slid my had up his left thigh, parting his towel slit and feeling the sleeping manhood. He looked at me and said "How lucky could I be?" I smiled again. He fixed his stare by the door and I tasted his growing horny. I remembered correctly indeed. We had a few solid minutes together. Maybe about ten. I sucked his cock, ran my tongue up his nipples, down back his inner thigh, and sucked again. Then I hear another locker slam. And another. Two shadows walked past the glass door of the sauna.

"Are you close?" I asked him. He smiled and shook his head. "Good." I said.

When the other shadow closed in on the door, he gave me light tap on the shoulder. I pushed myself up and sat back the bench. He fixed his towel. New guy walks in. Familiar face, but no, haven't touched him yet. Though I know he's queer. I've caught him sucking off some guy before. He's not that bad looking anyway. Just a bit on the lanky side. Not my thing, but not bad in general. First guy glanced at him. I leaned forward showing my face under the hint of outside light. He looked back. I reached in for first guy's cock with my hand. New guy held his from his towel. I smiled at him. I whipped out first guy's erection and gently stroked it. He whipped out his hard-on. I nodded for him to come closer. He gets up and sits on my other side, hidden form the door. With my right hand stroking first guy, my left began to reach for his, then my mouth went in for the kill.

"Shit..." he moaned.

The second course was served and I wasn't done. The running water from the shower shushed, and sloppy slippers were making its way to across the floor. Then I heard a guzzling by the fountain. The two boys fixed their towels, and sat right back up. I put my hands together, resting my elbows just a few inches past my knees, and my head remained leaning forward. Third guy walks in. His towel around his neck. Naked.

Japanese.

I've interacted with him once at the free weights section. I attempted to borrow some plates. He attempted to converse. It was difficult. But I did find him kinda sexy so I obliged him for a few random sentences with no introduction. That was maybe about a month ago. His cock? Not back for a Japanese.

He recognized me in the sauna and gave me a smile and a nod. I gave him a smile. Oddly, the two guys thought that was a signal. So they whipped out their cocks and began stroking. Japanese man saw them. The smiled facing the door, while unable to hide the growing erection he showed the room to see. I called him to come closer. I reached out for the other two guys cocks with my hands. and stroked them, I alternately sucked them until my hands could easily glide on each of their shafts as Japanese man stood in fornt of my, with his dick in my mouth. The locker room remained quiet. It was probably a good quarter of an hour until one moaned "I'm coming..."

"Go. Go." I said. "I want you to come on my chest." Other guy stood and erupted on my left chest. Japanese man began to moan heavily as he suddenly release by my neck. First guy then went "Here I come..." while remaining seated glazing my right hand with his juice.

Japanese man leaned in and made out with me. Other guy joined and reached his tongue by my left cheek, trying to get into our lips. First guy pulls me out of the liplock and gave me a wet French, leaving Japanese boy and other guy to make-out. First guy asked "What about you?" He grabbed my cock, still hard.

"I'm alright." I smiled.