Friday Fornication

I don't know how many times I've been sick this last year, but it's more than I'd care to remember. And this last week was pretty bad, which finally prompted me to see the doctor (had a minor lung infection and got some antibiotics). So, of course everything, from work, gym, boning, social interaction just seemed a little more strained and difficult this week-- and I still did them all, just at a slower pace. But my demeanor has been recognizably crabby, and I've been taking it out on the more stupid people in my path, including my jinder boss. This was an actual interaction on our last phone call where he typically tries to posture for the higher-ups on the line:


Jinder: (frantically) uh...so, do you have a status of that document you are working on?

Me: well, it's been sitting in your inbox for the last 4 days waiting for your approval. So, I guess the status would be that you didn't think it was that important until just now.

Like I said, although my energy levels were pretty low, I did manage to work-out. The fucked up thing is I still can't put on weight because this bacteria in my lungs is like a tapeworm. Although I'm not getting as big as I'd like, I've still been looking pretty kick-ass and after my last work-out discretely walked into the mirrored part of the locker room to snap a quick phone-pic. The funny thing is, this is a totally ghetto/straight gym, and I happened upon this buffed Latin guy who was also standing in front of the mirror with his shirt off snapping a pic from his phone. When he saw me, he got totally startled and embarassed. I smirked at him and said, "hey, not a bad idea" then struck a cocky pose in front of the mirror and took a couple pics. He snickered and snapped a couple more of himself. I caught him checking me out, but unfortunately this potentially "Bow-chicka-BOW-wow!" moment did not happen, as I was late for an appointment I had already made with...

So, my dear readers, this is an ass you've seen before. Did you guess who it was? Yes, it was indeed our old friend trainer who has surfaced back into my weekly harem. I don't know if I've ever mentioned, but he's half-Peruvian and half-Sicilian (unfortunately for him, his dick comes from the Peruvian side).

The odd thing about Fridays for some reason is throughout the day and up until the late eve there are constant opportunities for boning. I don't know if it's because of people just in a "weekend" mindset, or out-of-towners just arriving or whatever. But while other nights of the week I couldn't find a piece of ass if I had to order it from a menu, Fridays are usually a full buffet. To that end, shortly after boning Trainer I got a call from someone who I'd been talking to earlier in the day that said he wanted to meet up ASAP...and that didn't happen, so I totally forgot about him and moved on. But when he did call that evening apologizing and saying he was "ready" now, I accepted and he came over.

Turns out this guy was a smaller, more buffed, younger version of MarcAnthony. He had a VERY nice ass and after some light foreplay I mounted him from behind. He wanted to do it in front of the mirror in my "boning laire" and watch, and I was fine with that. But when I finally flipped him over to do him missionary, that's when he just turned into a wild-cat. I was pumping his hole for a good 10 minutes and asked him, "are you getting close?" and he just whined and said, "noooo! I want more of that dick." So, I flipped him on his side and gave it to him for another 5 minutes, then said, "Grab your dick, I want to see you cum." Meaning, I don't have all day, and I'm still fluish, so let's do this. Although he was enjoying himself imensely, moaning, groaning and gyrating his ass to meet my thrusts, I could tell he was only giving his cock a very half-hearted tug and didn't have a real intention of cumming. So, I just thought "your loss, dude." and flipped him back missionary so I could get a load off. Shortly after, I hit the spot and started cumming pretty loudly. To his credit, he took the signal and started jacking his dick like a piston engine. I still had to fuck him for a good 2 minutes AFTER I came, but I did eventually get him to shoot his load.

Lastly, I will be heading back to Orlando towards the end of next month. I'm definitely gonna get as many hits off that Puerto Rican kids hole as I can. He says he's really up for it and looking forward to seeing me again. So, let's hope for the best.

So, always remember: "Do not, do not deny me, tonight my right to feel. Do not, do not deny me, my achiles heal. Do not, do not deny my fact I checked in detail. Do not, do not deny me, the clicking of the heals........"

The Power of Music

First, a shout-out to a certain local "well-wisher". Thanks for the encouragement.

Second, I don't know if I told you this before, but I have music constantly running through my head. It's like the sound-track of my life, and about half of it is music/songs I've heard before, and the other half is stuff my brain has either made up or possibly extracted from bits of music/sounds I've heard before. So, music is a big part of my existence. I have several playlists on my computer I listen to for different moments; while I'm workingl, while I'm relaxing, while I'm writing and of course, while I'm boning (this consists mostly of soul, R&B, Old-School and a bit of house thrown in). And here's something weird; since I was raised in the era of casettes (yes, I've dated myself yet again) I played those poor tapes to the point that they not only broke from the stress, but were actually surgically taped back together where they had ripped-- the music was that important to me. Point is, I listened to the taped music so long and so often that the music itself became often distorted, slowed, and even different sounding than it had. Then, lo' and behold along comes youtube and the advent of the internet when you can find essentially every song that was ever in existence, and the first thing I did was search for those long-forgotten songs that were unavailble anywhere else. And after listening to it, I was often surprised at how different the songs sounded, since my ears had grown accustomed to the distorted version. Aaaaaaanyway, what does this diatribe have to do with anything? Well....

There's a friend of mine I've spoken of several times on this blog (not naming him...yet). I'd always looked fondly at and had a soft-spot for him, in that I wish him every success and happiness. And we truly were good friends and clicked. But the other day, I found out a side of him that was very unsettling. Let me explain it this way that you, my readers can hopefully understand; let's say you are openly a stamp-collector, you like stamps, you are open about that fact, and really REALLY like everything about being a stamp-collector ; the lifestyle, the taste of the glue, the tradeshows etc. And say you had a very good friend of yours who you had known for a long time and who while he is absolutely NOT a stamp-collector never says a negative thing about it and always acts very comfortable, accepting and even encouraging about it. And say after years of this familiarity and bond between the two, you find out that this friend of yours is absolutely, rabidly and openly anti-stamps at his core-- he hates stamps. While he has never said this to you in person, nor even so much as hinted as much, you find this out somewhere that he has no idea you have access, nor would expect to know about. I know this is cryptic, but I'm kind of trying to think this one through because I'm having real problems here. Suffice it to say, seeing this person's true feelings about a very sensitive part of my life that is close to my heart and being was like a song I'd loved and played for years until one day I hear the "real" version and turned out to be hideous.

On the boning front, I got to fuck some very quality ass this week. Monday, I met with a guy who looks like Ryan Philipe circa 1996 (complete with the blond curly hair) so...gonna call him Ryan. He wanted me to come to his place but say he only had until 6:30pm as he had to go to dinner.

His ass was so fuckable, I couldn't help myself and after some very light foreplay at his place, I just needed to dive into his hairless hole so I could begin fucking it. He had a long dick, almost as big as mine, but I could tell he really wanted to suck me. I let him, and it was all I could do to pull him off it (did I mention, he had the most incredible ass). We finally got around to fucking, and I took that boy around the world and finally pounded a load out missionary (he jacked off and came a LOT, hitting the wall in back of him). After we were done, I went to the bathroom to wash up and when I came back started searching for my clothes as he was telling me how good it was, then in mid-sentence asked, "You're not going now, are you?" I don't know why, but when I have sex with really hot guys, I just assume they have other things to do afterwards and that they want me out. So, when he said that, I turned and smiled, saying, "I don't really have anywhere to go. Just thought you needed to get ready." We ended up fucking in round 2, and I really hope to add this boy to my harem.

Got to fuck one of the many flight attendants who live in the area (I've blogged and taken pics of him before, but here are the ones from the other night so you can compare and contrast if you are so interested).

Lastly, to mix it up a little, I fucked another buffed Asian boy (BAB) who could have been Shorty's older brother.

Since this post is getting a bit long (don't pretend your not enjoying the pics) I'll wrap here, leaving with you with one of the lovely tunes from my childhood that I played on one of the many poor cassette tapes I wore out.

Malleability

Let's start of with some...hmm....I dunno....boning? Sure, why not. This week was VERY full at work. And because of the shared stress, our powers-that-be have deemed it possible for us to now work from home 3 days a week. This is GREAT since my 20-mile commute now averages 1 hour and 15 minutes (yes, kids, the economy is picking up as evidenced by the traffic and number of Camry-driving jinders on the road). Unfortunately, my days working from home are also packed with phone-conferences and other tasks which has thus-far prevented me from doing some mid-day fucking. As a matter of fact, this whole week my crotch has been dryer than a stone in the Sahara. It wasn't until Friday evening that I had my first potential for some good-ol' fashioned in-and-out...but the fish were not biting. I spent a good hour or so trolling my website of choice, and finally broke down and put an ad up on craigslist (as you know, this usually means scaping the bottom of the barrel). I did finally get a bite from a 20-something Mexican dude from Oaxaca with a beautiful bubble-butt. He liked it from behind and kept looking back at me while I was plowing him. I don't know why, but I LOVED that.

I didn't mention this before, but I'm about 10 lbs underweight (well, under what I WANT to weigh) since I've been back from Europe. This ALWAYS happens when I'm there for longer than a week, since a) I don't get to go to the gym there (just do 100+ push-ups a day) and b) the food there just does not stick to you (plus the portions are a lot smaller than in the US). Anyone wanting to lose weight should definitely try living there for a month. Anyway, as I'm feeling mighty scrawny, I've been hitting the gym regularly, and tonite was no exception. I'm still not lifting the same amount as before I left, but hopefully by next week I'll at least be on my regular routine, and maybe a week after that back to the weight/tone I want to be.


After I got home, I got hit up by the same fuck bud I was in Orlando with last year. I had not seen him since a month after that trip, which often happens with him. He's Filipino-American (aka a Flam), buffed, 34, a ju-jitsu contender and very masculine. As such, his crowd is mostly straight and he has a tendency of falling off the end of the world for long periods of time. I have grown to accept this and don't take it personal. So, when he hit me up again this eve, I let him come over for SEVERAL deep fucks. He lets me do anything I want to him, and I absolutely do. The only thing I don't like is if I fuck him missionary, when I'm about to cum he always commands me to smile (not my natural facial expression in climax mode). So, anyway, here's an exercise for you, my loyal viewers:

These are actually two separates asses -- one is the Mexican guy I fucked Friday, and the other one is the Flam. Can you tell which one is which? I can...cuz I was inside both of them (mmmm-MMMMMM, Beeyotch!)

So, this year's catch-phrase is "Livin' like a lizard--fast and smooth." Oddly, a phrase I use often at work "just among us chickens" (since I don't like when men use "just between us girls") has caught on and is being used at the highest levels of my company now. And speaking of words, here's one for your brainy dictionaries (assuming it's not there already): malleability. This word has several connotations, but the one I'm referring to is the propensity to be shaped, plied or controlled by something else. Why am I bringing this up? Because ever since my ex visited me, HIS ex, OL caught wind of it and has been calling me and leaving message after message. I finally picked up and essentially he just wanted to stir the pot and find out any/all info on my ex.

I was very tight-lipped, which only made him try harder by recounting story after story, annecdote after annecdote about my ex in every gory detail. This only confirmed what I had long suspected; this guy is a sleaze. He loves being the victim and the hero of every story, but unbeknownst to him, my ex told the same stories from the opposite side. Somewhere in the middle of course is the truth, but no hero or victim to be found. What I was able to learn/triangulate from these stories, is OL is not only an enabler, but my take is that despite his moaning and toll of woe for my ex being a drug-user, OL actually prefered him like this. Why? Malleability. My ex is definitely a smart guy, incredibly smart. And strong willed. My guess is he was much more malleable while on drugs to OL, who guided him into that world to begin with over a decade ago. Anyway, when he realized he wasn't going to get any new fodder about my/our ex, he ended his tirade telling me he will be going into colon surgery this weekend. Do I need to say how appropriate this is?

K-A-R-M-A.

Back?

Thank you for the emails of concern, and yes, I'm finally back. And I'm begining this post with the intention of keeping it brief, since I'm pretty drained (only partially in a good way). I am physically back from Europe, but the travel itself was excrutiatingly tedious (4 days of snow delays at Heathrow and Gatwick with long hours of waiting in between). My first fuck of the New Year occurred on my way back through London; since I had to spend the night, I made a side-trip to Clapham Common. As I was walking around, I stumbled upon a couple of guys stroking each other. I kept my distance, but was motioned to come over and join, so I did. Although it was dark, I could see up close guys were hot and flipped out my dick, which was rock hard from weeks of no sex of ANY sort. One guy knelt and started sucking me and the other dude back and forth. This was OK until some obese, ugly Indian/Paki walked up and kept crowding us. No matter how much we all motioned and told him to "shove off", he was undaunted and kept trying to press against us until pretty much everyone simultaneously zipped up and left in disgust. As I walked away, a tall, hot 20-something guy with blond curly hair sprinted past me. He looked back and I gave my crotch a rub, which made him stop in his path. I walked towards him and and he looked around and said, "I'm really rushed." I reached around and shoved my hand down his pants to feel his butt-hole and said, "Then we'll have to make this quick." He moaned, and I took this as a signal and undid his jeans and pulled them down to reveal his bubble-butt.

I pulled my dick out again, suited up with the profo in my pocket and put some spit on my dick and positioned it at his hole; he bent over in compliance. As he did so, I smelled the ever familiar smell of cum; so I rubbed his hole again and put my finger to my face to smell it-- yup, he'd just been fucked raw. I didn't mind the sloppy seconds since I was wearing the profo and I REALLY just needed to get off. I shoved the long ranger inside him (not difficult, since someone else had loosened him up) and started pumping, basically just using his hole. I did ask him, "you like it mate? You feeling my cock up your bum? Ready for me to pound my load out?" and in probably less than 30 seconds I was done, spewing an eye-popping orgasm.

When I got back to the US last week, I had received yet another email from my ex stating how he really was sorry for anything he had put me through last year when I tried to come down to see him for the intervention. He stated the death (overdose) of his boyfriend put him in a mindset that this year he had to change. I told him, if he was serious, I'd put him on a bus so we could spend a weekend assessing the situation in "neutral" territory (i.e. away from enablers or any other bad influences...save yours truly). To my surprise, he agreed and Friday eve at the San Jose train station, after 15 years, I met the first guy I'd ever had sex with, fell in love with, planned a life with, become infuriated with, and ultimately broken up with.

In the 48 hours we spent together, it went from awkward, to desperate, to familiar, to sad, to nostalgic and a host of other peak/valley emotions in between. The first night, he was still coming off of crystal meth, which gave him a very mellow and almost disturbing demeanor. We slept in the same bed and even ended up doing some mild, heavy-petting and making out, although he was extremely awkward and self-conscious of his physique (which I personally liked) as he used to be a very buffed version of Keanu Reeves and now in his mid-40's had put on some extra pounds. He still looked very good, with the exception of his ass, which had turned extremely saggy (and he had a very obvious meth-dick and balls which had shriveled due to steroid use). He eventually fell asleep, and I spent the entire night lying next to him, awake, listening to him breathe, snore, sleep-talk etc. He must have slept for over 12 hours, and the next day his old personality finally started appearing slowly but surely.

I think this post has gotten a bit self-indulgent, so I'll wrap it up saying, by the time he left, we had shared some very emotional moments (good and bad) but both hopefully came to some foregiveness/acceptance over the damage caused between us. I'm still in awe at the whole event; it was like getting a visit from your favorite movie star, comic book hero and best childhood friend, and at the same time fearing this person couldn't have cared less about you. I have absolutely no idea if this was a turning point for him, or if I will ever see him/hear from him again. I AM hoping the best for him, while at the same time hoping lady catharsis will pay me a visit sometime very soon.