I went to that sex club over near Thomas Circle last night. Ewww. The men were gross. The place was gross. The rooms were smaller than my closet and had rubber matresses.
Yet it was packed. Sounds like a gold mine to me. Not one I'll be giving more money to.
2.23.2007
2.16.2007
A first for me
I've never made a guy come simply by riding him before. Usually, that's not all that stimulating (in my experience). I usually like to be the one doing the pounding, if I really want to cum.
But the other night, I was on top, bouncing around and he exploded inside me. Awesome. I knew it could be done
But the other night, I was on top, bouncing around and he exploded inside me. Awesome. I knew it could be done
2.06.2007
BlogExplosion is homophobic? Uh-huh.
Apparently, my blog is too "sexual" for the mavens at BlogExplosion. Never mind the straight porn blogs they've got floating around in that ring. Me thinks they is a bit homophobic.
2.02.2007
Harry undressed
His body is strange -- in that, it's not so sexy but I can't look away and I'd let him pound my ass anyway -- kind of way.
2.01.2007
Over reaction
So, apparently there are a bunch of queens -- the drama prone variety -- in Boston. Too bad. Harvard boys are tasty.
1.31.2007
The state of porn
He liked to kiss, so I liked him. Nothing I enjoy more than having a cute boy's tongue crammed down my throat with his arms wrapped around me. Well, unless my dick's crammed down his throat (and his tongue is still involved). Anyway, I had a good time last night. And he had some blow, which made him all the more desireable.
I'm writing now, though, to lament the state of porn. All the stuff on the internet is just poor crap (save the links to the left) that's not worth the effort it takes to jack myself off. DVD's, which, I say, can also be crap, are too damned expensive for the likes of me.
What's a gay guy to do? No wonder we're prone to excessive hooking up. Maybe I'll stop complaining about that.
I'm writing now, though, to lament the state of porn. All the stuff on the internet is just poor crap (save the links to the left) that's not worth the effort it takes to jack myself off. DVD's, which, I say, can also be crap, are too damned expensive for the likes of me.
What's a gay guy to do? No wonder we're prone to excessive hooking up. Maybe I'll stop complaining about that.
1.27.2007
Case Studies
I'm getting my ass kicked by school right now. Totally kicked. Normally, I'm into that kind of thing. But not now -- weekends should be for drinking and screwing. Not the case of one idiot v. the other.
1.24.2007
Demon in the Sack?
Back in the day, when I was a lowly White House intern, I had the biggest crush on one of my supervisors. I remember asking another in the office, is he married? She looked at me oddly, shook her head, and said "no."
I got the signal loud and clear. And I thought to myself, I bet he's a demon in the sack. Yeah, I thought that. Anyway, all this was about four years ago, and I don't think he'd remember me anyway (he wasn't a direct supervisor). Okay, maybe he'd remember me, but perhaps not recognize me.
I recognized him, though, making out with some guy in the back corner of JR's upper floor. My mission, which I choose to accept, is to be the next guy he's making out with in the in the back corner of JR's upper floor.
I got the signal loud and clear. And I thought to myself, I bet he's a demon in the sack. Yeah, I thought that. Anyway, all this was about four years ago, and I don't think he'd remember me anyway (he wasn't a direct supervisor). Okay, maybe he'd remember me, but perhaps not recognize me.
I recognized him, though, making out with some guy in the back corner of JR's upper floor. My mission, which I choose to accept, is to be the next guy he's making out with in the in the back corner of JR's upper floor.
God Hates a Fag
Found this "God Hates a Fag" song via Seattle's the Stranger blog. I knew God hated me, I'm glad I have a song to prove it now.
1.22.2007
OSU Men from Cleveland Pose for Pinup Calendar
Got a pretty boy from Catholic University riding the red line over to get fucked by yours trule, so I'll have to be short. Just wanted to post some video of some very pretty and somewhat naked boys. My favorite kind.
Poppers
I like to think that I don't have an addictive personality. But poppers have become my newest vice. At frist, when I encountered them in bathhouses, I always turned them down. They smelled bad, gave me a headache and as a rule, I don't inhale something if I don't know what it is.
But, curiousity overcame me. And I'll say, I was presently surprised my first whiff. The high, though damn short, was a lot like a cocaine high. Warm and fuzzy and a little disorienting. And it made me want to fuck and be fucked harder.
Now though, I like to have them all the time. Even when I'm just jacking off (which I intend to do as soon as I'm home from school) I need that 45 second boost to get me going. My favorite is Captain Rush (in the yellow bottle), though I've experimented with other brands. This last one I bought, in a green bottle, seriously fucks me up a bit each time I use it. But I like that.
I think this is called addiction.
But, curiousity overcame me. And I'll say, I was presently surprised my first whiff. The high, though damn short, was a lot like a cocaine high. Warm and fuzzy and a little disorienting. And it made me want to fuck and be fucked harder.
Now though, I like to have them all the time. Even when I'm just jacking off (which I intend to do as soon as I'm home from school) I need that 45 second boost to get me going. My favorite is Captain Rush (in the yellow bottle), though I've experimented with other brands. This last one I bought, in a green bottle, seriously fucks me up a bit each time I use it. But I like that.
I think this is called addiction.
1.20.2007
Flavio
Flavio was probably about five years older than me. I like that. And he didn't turn away from me after I asked him twenty times to repeat his name. Flavio? His name is Flavio. Well, he looked somewhat latin. I figured it would be okay.
And he was a banker from New York.
"It's so cheap to drink here," Flavio said, buying me another Cape Cod from a shirtless bartender at JR's in Dupont Circle. I'd sorta made myself a regular at JR's because, the crowd was older (I like that, remember) and they all wanted to buy me drinks and have sex with me. Flavio could've had me without the drinks. I didn't tell him that, because, being a poor graduate student $9 cocktails were still a bit pricey for my budget. I let him ply me with liqour and think that he was all sly.
While we stood crammed together in against the wall, a younger guy I recognized from school walked by. He smiled at me. His smile made me smile. It was odd -- I almost couldn't contain it. For a brief moment, I wished that I didn't have my arm wrapped around Flavio's waist.
The moment passed quickly in my drunken stupor. Flavio's friend, whom he was staying with in a tiny studio apartment just down the street, joined us at about 11 p.m. I don't remember his name. I'm lucky I remembered the time. But it was the friend who got things really rolling.
"It's so crowded, let's go drink at my place," he said.
How Flavio's shirt got off, I don't know. His chest made me smile. A bit hairy for my tastes, but, Leonardo da Vinci couldn't have scuplted it better. We were drinking some toxic swill of a cocktail that his friend had mixed and porn was playing on the tv.
(It was "dirty porn" according to the friend, to which I replied, "when is porn not dirty?")
Soon Flavio only had his boxers on. Then we were making out and I was rubbing my hands over his chest. Then I was sucking his cock. His uncut cock (I guess that's the Latin boy in him).
"It's not fair that you've got all your clothes on," his friend said, as they promptly slid off my pants. I'm sure you don't need the play by play for what happened next.
Yes, Flavio wanted to fuck me. And he did. He didn't ask, which was a bit bothersome. I mean, I probably would've said yes, he was a doable size and all, but still, common courtesy, right?
It was about 2:30 a.m. when I'd showered and had all my clothes back on. Walking anywhere in D.C. at that time of night is like an extreme sport, so the friend walked me outside to get a cab.
"I'd like to see you again," he said.
I'd like to be fucked by Flavio again, I thought.
I smiled, said goodbye, and jumped into a cab to take me back to Capitol Hill. I woke up this morning thankful that I don't get hangovers. I'm unthankful that I have tons and tons of reading to do. The intracacies of contract law don't compare with having sex with Flavio.
For now, though, I'm off. Later.
And he was a banker from New York.
"It's so cheap to drink here," Flavio said, buying me another Cape Cod from a shirtless bartender at JR's in Dupont Circle. I'd sorta made myself a regular at JR's because, the crowd was older (I like that, remember) and they all wanted to buy me drinks and have sex with me. Flavio could've had me without the drinks. I didn't tell him that, because, being a poor graduate student $9 cocktails were still a bit pricey for my budget. I let him ply me with liqour and think that he was all sly.
While we stood crammed together in against the wall, a younger guy I recognized from school walked by. He smiled at me. His smile made me smile. It was odd -- I almost couldn't contain it. For a brief moment, I wished that I didn't have my arm wrapped around Flavio's waist.
The moment passed quickly in my drunken stupor. Flavio's friend, whom he was staying with in a tiny studio apartment just down the street, joined us at about 11 p.m. I don't remember his name. I'm lucky I remembered the time. But it was the friend who got things really rolling.
"It's so crowded, let's go drink at my place," he said.
How Flavio's shirt got off, I don't know. His chest made me smile. A bit hairy for my tastes, but, Leonardo da Vinci couldn't have scuplted it better. We were drinking some toxic swill of a cocktail that his friend had mixed and porn was playing on the tv.
(It was "dirty porn" according to the friend, to which I replied, "when is porn not dirty?")
Soon Flavio only had his boxers on. Then we were making out and I was rubbing my hands over his chest. Then I was sucking his cock. His uncut cock (I guess that's the Latin boy in him).
"It's not fair that you've got all your clothes on," his friend said, as they promptly slid off my pants. I'm sure you don't need the play by play for what happened next.
Yes, Flavio wanted to fuck me. And he did. He didn't ask, which was a bit bothersome. I mean, I probably would've said yes, he was a doable size and all, but still, common courtesy, right?
It was about 2:30 a.m. when I'd showered and had all my clothes back on. Walking anywhere in D.C. at that time of night is like an extreme sport, so the friend walked me outside to get a cab.
"I'd like to see you again," he said.
I'd like to be fucked by Flavio again, I thought.
I smiled, said goodbye, and jumped into a cab to take me back to Capitol Hill. I woke up this morning thankful that I don't get hangovers. I'm unthankful that I have tons and tons of reading to do. The intracacies of contract law don't compare with having sex with Flavio.
For now, though, I'm off. Later.
Remember me?
There's this guy in one of my law classes. He's cute. That'd be cool, except I think he was a random gay.com hookup from August, you know, the kind you never talk to again. He recognizes me. I can tell. My MO, I think, will be to pretend I don't remember him.
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