Sometimes I wish you guys played coy in your emails.
I get it. Four months is way too fucking long to stop telling ya’ll sordid details of my sex life.
It’s just that with the initial delicate social climate of a pandemic, I didn’t think that it was the smartest idea to keep the fuck-talk flag flying, nor did I want to change 15MM into a coffee clutch of mundane topics like politics or social injustice. There’s no pretense with me as to what purpose this blog serves. It’s sexy. It’s fun. It’s an off-the-cuff voice that’s a little all scattershot. I’m not here beating my chest to change the world… Frankly, I’m much more interested in beating off. I just want to take you along with me for a little bit to experience random snapshots of my life.
This life just happens to be attached to someone who has a lot of sex. Lucky you.
Since March, where I can legally travel, I have traveled: Clients have kindly rearranged trips to suit this now-nearly useless American passport. Turkey and Mexico have been two of my most visited places, but I’ve also been down to Brazil and spent time through the Caribbean. As risky as all of this sounds, I’m not going out of my way to spend time in large groups of people, I take as much PPE precaution as possible and have been tested every 2-3 weeks since the pandemic began. I’m hoping to be able to get a first dose of vaccine by the end of February. I’ll put on feeble old man drag if I have to. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Having moved to San Antonio at the tail end of 2020, it’s been interesting to see what’s changed and what remains stuck in the puro San Antonio time warp. This is a sprawling city of 2+ million that often feels like a very small town, especially within marginalized groups.
I haven’t gotten back out into the gay scene here, but damn if the Grindr guys aren’t thirsty for a muscular, tall, dominant ginger. Dallas was chock-full of milquetoast white bros- but here in SA, it’s a trade wave of 25+ messages a day from (mostly) younger guys who want to be used in any number of ways. I’ve shared some of the screenshots on Twitter and honestly, they’re pretty fucking sexy. Perhaps I’m wrong that the younger generation doesn’t have diverse sexual tastes.
While I get into a wide variety of sex, I’ve come to enjoy exploring the attitude, look and physical mechanics of being an alpha. When I was younger, I was concerned to not intimidate people with my height or build, concentrating on the consummate boyfriend experience. As with anything in life, we push our boundaries or we become bored, leading me to explore sexual tastes of mine that I ignored or didn’t realize I had. Feet, armpits, gear, uncut dick, sweat, muscle, raw sex, edging, dominance, verbal play, big loads. Over the last year, I got to put all of them into the playbook and it’s not only allowed me to add a lot more to my sexual skill set, but has made me know myself in a much more authentic way.
Case-in-point: Years back, I never would have left a guy hanging without having made sure he busted his nut. It was just something I always made sure of. His orgasm, then mine. 100%. I was hard-wired for it.
Now, a lot of guys who contact me want a dominant jock who comes in, takes control, gets his dick sucked, his pits played with, his muscle worshipped and then to pound the fuck out of a hole until I drop a load(s). It’s not rocket science to realize that as my body has changed (and as I’ve gotten older), guys see me in a whole different way sexually. I can play a wider variety of sexual roles in a way that wasn’t convincing when I was in my twenties.
It’s also been interesting watching how fast guys want you to fuck them when you completely take being a bottom off the table. The immediate mental foreplay with guys who read ‘top’ and then begin to twist the fantasy of having a hot, muscular guy pounding him out is real. While I’d consider myself a happy, friendly guy, I’m aware that there’s a growing contingent of guys out there who want me as a dominant, muscled-up, verbal, shaved head, chain-wearing, gear-rocking alpha who’s into armpits, feet, sweat, raw play and cum. The whole package, basically.
Don’t get me wrong: A part of me is naturally that guy, but I also know that I can’t be that way with everyone I see. It’s not always appropriate or comfortable. The puzzle piece doesn’t always fit. There’s a lot to be said for reading the room and figuring out what people want using good old-fashioned common sense. That extends to guys who think they want the whole alpha experience of being dominated, but quickly realize their eyes are bigger than their stomach (or- more appropriately- my dick is bigger than their capacity to handle it for any amount of time). There’s a fine line in how and when to push someone’s boundaries. You really have to pay attention.
It reminds me of a client I’ve been seeing for years. He’s tall, hung, always been a safe play top when we’d meet and has always been a fun time due to him being able to reload pretty quickly. In a couple of hours, he could blow a few loads, which always kept me on my toes as the bottom. When I moved to Dallas, we kept in touch, but didn’t have any in-person meets. It wasn’t until I got settled back in San Antonio that we met up again and it was clear that because I had changed a lot in my look over the last 5 years, what he wanted changed too.
So, I show up in a tight wife beater, thick neck chain, backwards cap and a pair of shorts with hightops. From his face at the door and his body language in the bedroom, he wanted me in a position ofdominance, so I flexed a little muscle for him and told him to strip off his fucking clothes. You could see it in his eyes that getting barked at was turning him on. He didn’t need to tell me that he wanted to eat my armpits out: His dick got immediately rock hard as soon as I raised my arms above my head. I let him lick my pits for awhile, all while spinning some sexy verbal trash. What I didn’t expect was that as soon as I got into talking about beating up his hole with my dick, he got super submissive.
I almost felt like it was a call and callback at a slutty Southern baptist church.
Positioning him on his back with his legs over my shoulders, I kept my eyes locked on him while playing with his ass. This was beginning to be the classic top-guy-turned-bottom who clearly had a fantasy of a muscle jock pounding out his hole… He just needed some incentive. I kept spinning a ton of fuck talk, telling him how I wanted to put my tool in his hole, how I was going to put a load deep in his ass and that I knew how badly he wanted to be used. Bit by bit and a lot of lube later, I was able to get him loosened-up enough to get the head of my dick in his hole. He looked a little uncomfortable, but I gave him a couple of quick pointers (cause I’m basically the slutty Heloise) and I was able to slide in completely.
Knowing his personality, in that exact moment, I knew he wanted me to fuck him and drop my load in his ass. However, I also knew that if I did that, he’d regret it after he had his orgasm. I figured I’d give him both things: I kept on telling him how his tight hole felt great around my thick cock, staying as verbal as possible and finding a constant, hard rhythm to how I was fucking him. I kept spinning the fantasy, loudly telling him how much nut I was going to fill him with. It’s all about repeat, hard keywords when it comes to figuring out what really turns someone on in the heat of the moment. FUCK, RAW, JOCK and NUT were his hot spots. From there, it’s really as simple and fun as a sexually twisted version of Mad Libs.
As a began to pound him harder and faster, I told him I was blowing my load. He quickly jerked himself off thinking about the fact that I was putting my nut in him, but little did he know, I wasn’t. I got him off using the power of perception. As soon as he calmed down, I could see his look change from satisfied to a little worried. He casually asked me about my last STD testing and I smiled, telling him I was in the clear and that he literally had zero to worry about.
After we cleaned up, I then confessed to only making him think I had fucked a load into him and not actually gone through with it, knowing he’d have regrets after the fact. I told him that fantasy, especially when executed correctly, can be a powerful thing. He thanked me for paying attention to his personality and said that it was the hottest sex he’d ever had.
That’s all I needed to hear. I did good.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve posted some fun screenshots of convos I’ve had on Grindr here in San Antonio. There have been some super hot chats from submissive bottoms who clearly want a regular thing with a white, tall, muscular alpha male. It took time to get me into the right mindset for it, as to really satisfy a sub, it’s about the appearance of focusing solely on myself and using a guy in anyway it takes to get me off. In the past, I’ve never been a huge fan of walking into a room, getting naked, getting hard and immediately pounding out a guy, but these days, when the scene is right, it can be an incredibly intoxicating thing. Some of the guys I’ve met on Grindr here in SA have really been nothing more than holes for me to fuck and fill, but I’ve come to appreciate that side of my sexual need.
As always, follow me on Twitter for whatever random horse-and-pony show I’m peddling, as well as updated pics of me in varying states of undress and where I am in the world. Note: clothing isn’t my strong suit. I do better with less on. If it’s got more than a 5-inch inseam, I don’t wanna wear it.
Also, don’t forget to sign-in and ASK ME ANYTHING. I’ve gotten some interesting questions over the last few months which I credit to people being cooped-up and bored from isolation. Keep em’ coming! I’ve got a slight backlog of questions I need to get to, but should get everything done in the next week.
It’s official. I’m sick of winter… Walking around shirtless inside a house is not nearly as fun as in public. I’ve had a few South Florida trips since October and it’s always awesome getting back to a place where you can rock going shirtless with just tight shorts and flip-flops (or barefoot). Some stories from my time in Miami and Ft Lauderdale on the next edition, but know that I got myself into a fourgy one night in a hot tub at Pineapple Point. I believe I cemented a legacy there after that night and hope I can stay there again without being asked to clean the pools.
Be well ya’ll. Thanks for keeping up,
