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Update!

With the economy in a highly-inflated boom, it’s apparent that a lot of new guys are pouring into the sex industry, all trying to go full Kardashian with both an OnlyFans account and in-person meets.  They all want their cover on Whorbes Magazine.

I imagine in their ideal vision, they expect to make six figures and live the life of a social media darling, jetsetting from one influencer party to another orgy.  However, what they don’t expect is how hard the hustle is to get followers and even more difficult to keep them.  The churn rate on OnlyFans is legendary (and ruthless).  Most guys on the platform make very little profit.

Compounding that, they throw out escort rates that are neither suitable for their lack of reviews or their overall package.  If someone is paying $300+ an hour for a guy’s time, he better be the whole enchilada of body, brains and beauty.  

It’s not dumb luck when you get a roster of clients who, repeatedly, want to take you on exotic vacations…  It’s payoff from working on being the best version of yourself.  It’s being intelligent enough to be taken to public functions and he knows you’ll be able to handle yourself.  It’s having a body that- even with clothing on- every person in the room does a quiet double take.  It’s about making people feel comfortable around you with something as simple as a genuine smile and unforced conversational skills.

A great escort reads not only people well, but the entire room around him.

 

AND THAT’S MY TED TALK.  THANK YOU FOR COMING.

 

 

 

 

Just a quick update for those of you who groused about missing out on the last edition’s lack of fuck stories:  I can’t always promise that every post is going to involve my need to get naked and put my dick in someone, but don’t worry…  Like a horny boomerang, I tend to circle back eventually.

The final straw that really got me off my lazy ass to write was an email comparing my sex stories to a Judy Garland concert.  Seriously.  Someone made the comparison that an edition of 15MM without filth is like a Garland concert without hearing The Trolley Song.

Fucking ridiculous, but brilliant.  Well-done, whoever you are who emailed that.

 

It took me getting back to Hawaii to remember how naturally sexy things feel just being there.  By that, I mean, most people are already in some state of undress, have had a few cocktails and are on island time.  Much like Key West, it invites people to expand their horizons and quickly wander from their usual routines.

As with any beach community, I love being able to easily amble around shirtless in tiny-as-fuck cutoffs, some well-worn sneakers and a snapback baseball cap.  It’s funny how people don’t tend to give a shit about these kinds of things when there’s an ocean nearby.  For me, it’s just a comfortable way to exist and showing off my body has always been the bonus.  

 

I’m proud of what I’ve achieved with my natural build, especially considering how tall I am and that I’ve done it without the help of steroids.  Building a healthy body is just that: Healthy.  What we put into ourselves we eventually get out of it, both good and bad.  You can’t expect to keep decent gains if you’re spending all of your time eating crap and then thinking a pill can fix everything.  

Got booked some massage time at the hotel spa and what was most interesting about their setup was that the sex-segregated wet areas were all outdoors.  Each shower was designed as a private stall (with an open air top), but instead of normal walls, there was organic, natural looking stone, almost grotto-style.  It was pretty awesome, especially combined with a deluge waterfall from above.  If you like being naked while being outside, this is your kind of spa.  

Let me rephrase:  This was MY kind of spa.

Not only was it outdoors and private, but there was some serious cruise action going on in the locker room.  Guys walking around- no towels on- methodically making eye contact.  No one was even trying to hide their junk, but considering the spa had no employees walking through, it felt a little like a gay bathhouse anyway.  

A very expensive gay bathhouse.  With no glory holes.

While showering off from the gym, a guy stepped into view, no towel and sporting a fucking gargantuan, thick cock. 9 inches easy.  Nice curve upward, like a sausage.  Uncut.  He was probably 5’10, in good shape and had a beautiful, smooth bubble butt.  The kind of ass you get from doing proper squats combined with running.  Every little glute muscle just popped.

Without even focusing on it, I got rock hard.  Couldn’t have stopped it if I tried.  My dick tends to have a mind of its own and I’ve just come to accept it.

BAM.  In two seconds, he was in my shower, on his knees, swallowing my dick and jerking his own massive tool.  Based on his look, I’d have said he was German (or generally Nordic).  Sandy buzz-cut blond hair, v-shaped torso, swimmer’s legs and ass, hung, hairy pits, smooth torso, light blond hair on his legs and, thankfully, a solid bush.  I’m always happy to see when guys look like guys and not teenage boys.  

 

Benjamin’s junk grooming tip #37:  Leave the hair and just lightly trim.  Don’t shave it bald.  This ain’t a NAMBLA gathering.  Your cock doesn’t need to look like a cross between Daddy Warbucks and Mr. Clean.  If you get some hair in your teeth, consider it a badge of pride for doing a proper job.

His oral skills were impressive as fuck:  I honestly could have blown my wad in his mouth and been happy as a clam.  I think he sensed I was getting close, so he got up, pumped some conditioner from the wall dispenser, slathered it onto his hole and got into position.  He didn’t say a word during all of this, but the international language of fuck is my linguistic speciality.  With him beginning to audibly pant, I slid my dick into his sexy ass and got things into a nice, slow rhythm, watching my cock throb in and out of his hairy, tight hole.  

Aside from the sex being hot, the environment is really what was going to send me over the edge.  Public fucking can be the biggest turn-on if everything comes together and this spa design seemed custom made for hooking up.  Better yet, the lack of employee policing almost seemed too good to be true.  

I wasn’t going to look a gift whore in the mouth on this one.

I really, really wanted to fuck him hard, but also knew that the sound of me pounding him out would reverb through the entire wet area.  He was bent over with my hands on his shoulders, me pulling his whole body down, pounding my cock deeper into his ass.  It didn’t take long before he looked back at me and smiled, giving me (what I assumed was) the go-ahead to blow my load.  8 spasms of nut, firmly planted in his hole.  As I pulled out, a nice amount of what I deposited leaked out.  That was sexy. 

I got what I wanted.  He got what he wanted.

Although I’m multi-orgasmic, after I cum, I usually tend to go soft pretty quick.  The German then stood up and started to jerk his dick, clearly wanting to bust his own nut.  In a totally random move- but an admirable one- he bent over, pulled his ass cheeks apart showing me his fucked-out hole and said ‘PISS’ in accented english.

Sure… Who was I to argue?  I was soft, so piss play wasn’t going to be too difficult.

I turned the shower water a little colder, worked up the gumption and akin to a game of skill at the state fair carnival, I nailed his hole with a steady stream of hot piss.  What was especially fun was that having fucked him loose, some of my piss was getting deeper into his ass.  What was even more fun was that clearly this was his hot button and in the 15 seconds of soaking his ass in urine, he came…  A ton. 

It was a seriously impressive load coming out of that huge cock.  It was the kind of orgasm that you could hear hit the wall in viscous, thick ropes.  The guy deserved a round of applause and a trophy for this performance, but all I could do at that point was smile and give him a quick smack on the ass as he walked out.

I cleaned up the scene of the crime, properly showered and got onto that massage table.  I think I was able to stay awake for 10 minutes before drifting off.  

Moral of story:  I want every spa day to be like that one.

 

 

 

The travel schedule remains ramped up for summertime as I head to Santa Monica and LA this weekend, followed by time in Miami, New York City, Chicago and Houston in the coming weeks.  I’m told that both Steamworks and Club Houston are back open, but I’m waiting to hear a boots-on-the-ground review of what it’s like before checking them out.  I can always count on both places for their awesome gym setups, so that might be the cookie that gets this mouse in the doorway.  We shall see.

If you’re looking for more tomfoolery, naked pics and up-t0-the-minute musings, make sure to follow me on Twitter.  It’s where I’m posting on the daily and the easiest way to see what I’m up to and where I am in the world.  I love feedback on Twitter, so feel free to reply to a post, freely converse and let me know what you like and what you don’t.

My ASKfm Q&A is updated weekly.  It gives you a chance to ask me anything you can think of.  No topic is off limits and I’ll answer almost everything I’m asked.  I want it to be a no-holds-barred way for people to get to know more about me.  Good, bad and indifferent.

The gallery is updated on a monthly basis.  It’s now a huge archive of my world travels and the varying looks I’ve had over the years.  

 

 

 

I remain thankful for your readership.  Be well out there,

 

 

 

 

 

 

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