Palm Springs Diversion

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Squeezing Out the Cum

Thirty minutes after I concluded the previous posting, I had the urge to crap, but I knew it was all that cum the black lawyer had injected into my ass. I was not disappointed. My bowels discharged a copious amount into the shot glass, which I added to the jar of cum I keep in my icebox. But then...more...after about 15 minutes, a second load, this time smaller but still enough to fill the shot glass halfway full. I still felt something up there...either that or my ass was sore which seemed unlikely...I didn't feel sore, just different. But then a third load of cum, smaller but still more than I shoot when I do shoot. This was a huge load or else three loads, judging from the cum discharged! I never felt it go in, which leads me to doubt those queens who swear they can feel cum being shot up their asses. Having taken all that cum, and being able to save all of it (an uncharged load, according to the top's profile he's negative...no reason to doubt that, he seemed pretty upfront about everything, he also said he was a multiple cummer, which I can now vouch for), makes me a happy man today.

Saturday Morning Interracial

I'm sitting here writing this with a hot cumload up my butt. I have not mastered the art of squeezing it out...it has to stay in there and work itself out...but I can feel it there, so I'm sitting here at the computer waiting for it to want out, so I can collect it and get on with my morning chores...it's a beautful day in SF, uncommonly warm for so early in the day and I want to get out, hop the streetcar, get a coffee and a paper at the Cafe Flore and enjoy life. The load's still up there, and in a minute I'll try to squeeze it out...maybe I'll learn how to do it right. When it comes out, I'll be squatting over a shot glass into which it'll go, and then into the freezer to lube a future fuck.
This morning's load comes courtesy of a black lawyer taking a break from his busy professional life. Lawyers work long hours sometimes, and since it's early Saturday morning and he's working towards a Tuesday deadline, maybe he'll come back for seconds later this weekend. I'm starting to host now, since it's a lot easier than hopping the bus for an assignation...nothing cools the sex drive faster than a bus full of ugly, unhappy people, and there are always some, unwittingly ruining my day. Clogged traffic on your way to a date is bad enough, a bus ride can be really ugly. So the nice looking black lawyer and I hooked up on Barebackrt...the best website for barebackers...and being a lawyer, there was no bullshit about him, he showed up, and we got down to it...he fucked me on all fours with his scimitar shaped dick, a nice nine incher which seemed to dwarf my seven inches which got only semi-hard.
I feel that load in there wanting to come out.
The black lawyer top came almost immediately. He pulled out, and some cum dropped onto the carpet. I scooped it up and put it back on his cock. Then he put me where he wanted me on the bed and then gave me a good fuck...as good as the bottoms got that he posted on the profile. He was an efficient fucker, and came a second time after a few minutes. I was totally sober, and took only two snorts of Amsterdam.
I feel it wanting to come out. Gotta go.

TIM's Fearless

Guys, this is a great video...buy it, or at least rent it. One of the best 3-ways ever with an unusually memorable cumshot is the one with Aaron Shadow, Jerry Stearns and everybody's favorite all-american gay frat boy, Alan Gregory. I don't know about Jerry's status but he's fucked a lot poz azz on video, as has Austin, and Alan's upfront about his status on his barebackrt profile, so seeing what I hope is genuine all-american poz cum getting plowed up some primo yankee pozazz will take care of me for a long while. Yowza!

Double Gangbang at the Folsom Treasure Island Sex Party

I wasn't feeling all that hot, recovering from a cold and with my libido running on empty, but I was determined not to miss Treasure Island Media's (TIM) Folsom party on Sunday night. After all, Dawson was expected. And Brad McGuire. And Dan Fisk. And others were expected, as well. More about those guys later. So I decided to skip the Folsom Street Fair and spent the day resting up, which killed me because it was a beautiful day here in San Francisco. So I spent the day engrossed in a James Ellroy crime novel and all the while, working overtime on pumping up. I took my Arize according to instructions, cleaned out and was ready to go by 7 p.m. The party was at the Power Exchange, unlike the country western bar venue of last year where everybody had to keep his clothes on. My libido wasn't working for me...no, I wasn't all that horny but this was a party not to be missed. I took the bus...so un-sexy...but I got there and the nice guys at the rope told me the party wasn't on the 3rd floor as advertised (a hot play space) but in the basement (not my favorite). And there would be a clothes check, so we wouldn't be fucking with our clothes on, like last year....
Well, this party was great...a diverse mix of guys, lots of out of town traffic and hardly any familiar faces...I saw R. who kept himself covered up, per usual, but he was wearing a leather vest this time, more appropriate...still more the voyeur than a participant, but agreeable enough. I pretended not to notice him, and I think he might have been doing the same thing. There was also WW., that hot black daddy who's fucked me a couple times before, but who, tonight, couldn't get it up for me, but not for lack of trying. In his defense: he had just got through fucking the shit out of this leatherman, and might have been trending down. Anyway, I know he's one hot fuck and had passed up Tom Fister's fisting party to come here, just like me. No Dawson, no Brad, etc....but I did recognize Nicholas from BarebackthatHole and Leo Sargent of HDK, but no matter...I did my own porn that night...a double gangbang. Read on.
My favorite room in the basement of the Power Exchange is the dark hole near the entrance...I like to get on all fours facing the wall and watch the shadows of prospective fuckers on the wall as they approach. Some move on, but all you need is one...and I got more than that. Gawd, I love these no attitude, free for all parties. I had a dick up my ass within minutes, initiating a steady roll of action that lasted another 30 minutes. One right after the other, maybe seven dicks, I lost count, I was so into it...small dicks to better than average, and every one knew what to do with what God had given him...it was dark, hot, sweaty, loud and non-stop. But the best part, the double part, was that another bottom had positioned himself opposite me, so that we faced each other...he took a dick and was engaged as an active bottom, expressive...his face approached my own and we engaged in some hot tongue action while each of our asses was getting plowed, oooh, dogie! The best part is that the tops kept on coming one right after the other, each of us getting some while the other was getting some...really hot...my bottom buddy had a hot loose tongue going deep, the scent of brandy or maybe bourbon. I prefer bourbon, more appropriate for the setting. No Dawson, no Brad, no Dan, who cares? It lasted for only 30 minutes or so, and that was it for me. I got up to stretch my legs, trolled around in the basement play space, getting in some voyeurism, chatting up a cute little bottom in a harness and glasses (!), drank a Pepsi, and returned to find my space had been taken over by another bottom with a buzz cut and a harness. And man he was getting fucked when and where I should have been getting fucked. But yeah, all right, I got mine...and he should get his.
It turns out Dawson and the other guys hit the Thursday Cockpit Party at the same venue (and were on their way home to Boston, New York or Chicago by Sunday night), but since I was out of town, I missed that party...knowing there would be a TIM party the following Sunday softened the blow. You can't miss if you try just a little. All in all, a great party, and my first gang bang since the Palm Springs parties of 7 or 8 years ago. As usual, I couldn't tell if anybody came in my butt. When I got home, I did my usual squat over the shot glass and pushed out what I could: 2 loads, I think...at least I could detect 2 different types of cum, they looked different, so I guess 2 loads which I collected in my cumjar and put into the icebox for future lubing.
You never miss at the Cockpit, especially when TIM is involved. Thanks, guys. See you all next year, if not before...we keep trying.

Dore Sling Fist & Fuck at Master Tom's

I've got 3 loads of cum in my ass as I write this, around midnight on a Thursday/Friday, but I'm not going to write about that right now...I have to let experiences marinate in the juices of my mind before I write, so what happened tonight, really more of a porn review, will have to wait. Tonight I'm going to write about the fisting party at Tom Fister's in conjunction with Dore Alley, now known as Up Your Alley. First of all, for those who don't know, TomFister hosts fisting parties in his home, a Victorian in the Castro. Tom is a gracious host and his parties are always great with nice guys, who come from all over the world, and the parties take place in a very respectable house in a very respectable neighborhood, but inside that house it's pure raunch. There's always a porn star or two, always great for local color...and lots of barebacking. Now I'm a fisting top and a good one...I'm just short of 5-8 and with small hands, and there are always unattached fisting bottoms looking to get probed and usually punched, and it's usually easy to hook up. There are a lot of trading glances but not much posing and the bullshit one encounters elsewhere. I fisted three guys that night and my favorite was the last, a chunky guy with a round butt, and nice pleasant friendly face. Although he said he was experienced, it must have been a while since he was last fisted...his hole was a bit tight and I didn't get in much deeper than my wrist. No matter. Fisting is not about how deep a top can get in or how much a bottom can take. It's a mutual scene respectful of limitations. I moved my fist around in his tight ass to good measure, and he seemed to enjoy it. His hole was experienced; it certainly looked like a well-used pussy, no matter how tight it was. I had asked him if he wanted me to wear gloves, and he said it was up to me, that he was poz...the right answers. But here it was, I had given him a good workout, and he had that big beautiful pussyass, and I couldn't resist: I wanted to fuck that ass. In a flash, my swollen dick (I had pumped a bit before I hit the party) was in his poz butt, and I gave him a vigorous fuck, which surprised me since I had had a few drinks and had not taken any viagra. He was wearing a harness which I grabbed as I rabbit fucked his hot ass, making a lot of noise and getting a grin out of him, and a couple of groans as well. Can I claim to be a versatile bottom again? We'll see. I'm going into bottom mode again this weekend for The Gathering at a motel on Market St. I know some of the tops who are going to be there, and I mean to accommodate them, but if there's a hot little bottom there with nice, fat, wide feet...well, we'll see.

Cockpit Sex at the Dungeon

When I found out that the Cockpit Party (to coincide with Dore Alley this weekend) was to take place in the Dungeon of the Power Exchange, there was no way that I was going to miss it. Although my libido might have been at low ebb, I shot three syringes of cum into my ass and went earlier than usual, since previous parties seemed to peak at around 9 p.m. The Dungeon is a rather large space, maybe 3,000 s.f., with a large play area that includes slings, fuck benches and some partitioned areas with dividers low enough for voyeurs to observe the action from a distance. There's a video lounge that also functioned as a play area with people fucking on the sofas and chairs and an section that can be described as a gloryhole galley, a corridor with a series of connecting cubicles. Near the entrance to the Dungeon there are two separate rooms, one with a four poster bed and the second with a large platform, both convered with wipeable vinyl play sheets. Since I prefer to be on my back or all fours, I staked out these rooms, and the four poster turned out to be better for me. I first thing I did was turn off the lights.
On my belly facing the entrance to the room, my preferences were made clear. These men were ready for action and I got responses almost immediately. I sucked a smallish dick, got him hard, turned around and felt his cock slip up my ass. It certainly didn't feel small and he gave me a good fuck when I placed my feet on the bed board and directed my ass downwards a bit to give him better access. A nice fuck, like hand in glove, but no load. Then a long skinny dick went straight into my mouth and after some time he was only semi-hard so I abandoned this one and went for another dick, there were many to choose from, all sticking in my face. Mistake! A Latino bottom, wearing a black tee with a 7 printed on it (his dick was among those in my face) turned around and took long skinny up his ass and got a good fucking, but no load. A new top turned me around, and fucked me so-so, no load. Another...then a few more, maybe twelve dicks up my ass within...oh I don't know, 45 minutes...finally a very dominant top grabbed my ass cheeks, spread them and shoved a nice big dick in there. I was then the object of a fierce fuck, complete with athletic thrusting, grunts and dirty talk. I myself am pretty loud when I get into it...what comes out is usually 'Fuck that ass! Shit! Fuck! Yeah!' a lot of 'yeahs, yeah, fuck me' but I stayed in control and didn't shout 'fuck that hot white poz ass!' which I've done before and maybe is not cool to all tops. This top shot a noisy load up my butt and kept on fucking...it must have been really big because I detected that sound of cum (his load plus the cum I came with) being swished around my cumhole. I was so into this, I put my hand on my butthole and felt his spooge all over my my hole and my buttcheeks. When he pulled out, there was the sound of a sloppy fart. Somebody started fingering all the cum and putting into my mouth. I gladly slurped it up. Holy shit, what a hot fuck! I raised myself to stretch and get some cramps out after being in the doggy position for such a long time, and said out loud, 'who wants to fuck this hot cum-filled ass?' No takers, I guess I scared them all off, so I retired my place on the four poster letting another bottom take advantage of it. There's room for 2 bottoms on the bed and I'm always hopeful for another bottom at my side to share the tops, encouraging the tops to do some switch fucking, like has happened in Palm Springs and at the now defunct Marshall's Parties, but not this time.
I drifted into the neighboring room where I recognized (from his tattoos) a Latino bottom known to me through barebackrt. He was wearing flip flops which really gives me a crank, and he had beautiful feet, a nice chest, and a nice smile. In a moment he was on the medical examination table getting plowed in rapid succession by two tops. I was jacking my dick to a reasonable degree of firmness but the goddamned table was too high for me...you needed to be six-two at least to make it work. I didn't fuck this hot Latin this time.
I found out it was after 11 p.m. on a school night, and after getting fucked by a dozen dicks, taking a fierce, hopefully poz load, I bagged it and went straight home, showered and was in bed by midnight.

Fisting at San Francisco Pride

As in recent Pride weekends, Sunday night found me in the Victorian on 18th Street at a seasonal fisting party hosted by a former Mr. San Francisco Leather. This is group of hardcore fisters that includes some recognizable porn performers, leather royalty and dare I say, intellectuals. These are hardcore, and by that I mean, guys who live the leather lifestyle, most of their good friends are leathermen and I suspect, some dress in some form of leather, every day of their lives. They go to the movie dressed in leather, they go out to dinner in leather, and I've even some a leatherman in cap, vest and leather pants doing his laundry in a very public laundromat. Interestingly, the guys here whom I've fisted in the past, didn't exactly give me a rush, although they were polite. Leathermen are uncommonly polite, as a rule, and they...we...adhere to an established and acknowledged etiquette. So the evening involved new meat, except for its conclusion, which I'll get to in a minute.
My first leather bottom looked like a funky rural gay...skinny bod with tattoos running the length of his body, the design looked like a string of decorative coral, and on his back, the design depicted figures in sexual coupling. He had a lot of facial hair, and it was wiry, and slightly unkempt, and when he smiled it was obvious that he had lost most of his teeth. Hence, that rural aspect. I got on early that he was nowhere as experienced as some of the other pigs in the room (we were in the fisting attic), and he was nowhere as noisy as some expressive bottoms. I let him take the lead and we had a good session. The second bottom was a young Chinese dude, a little filled out but not fat, whom I'd traded glances with earlier...he seemed shy which is what he turned out not to be. First of all, he had a splendid asshole...my fist pretty much slipped right in and I took it easy at first, doing a lot of probing with my indices, feeling various niches and nooks deep in his ass...where were we going here? His butt was like a deep, velvety canyon, with slippery tucks and rolls...fabulous, the best ass I've had in long time...one of those times when as a top I was enjoying physical pleasure through my hands, arms. And he got me hard. Then this Chinese fistboi (he seemed really young!) ordered me to fuck him...and I obliged with some hard manly thrusts, which scared me a little...I was in really deep, almost to my elbow. Pump, pump, pump...I, personally, was thrilled...I had made him very happy and I myself felt pleasured. I found out as we were leaving, his next milestone would the big 4-0, but in the semi-darkness of the fisting attic, his unlined, plumpish face and naive smile gave him the look of a teenager. Two great sessions...and it was already after midnight, and on a school night, but I decided to make one last check of the fisting basement, the other playspace in this Victorian...all other rooms save for the kitchen and the baths, are off-limits behind their closed doors.
There are three slings in the attic and only two in the basement, but the basement has a small private room off to one end, a doctor's examination table, a rimseat, a TV, and a big mattress in the middle of it all. I like getting fucked in a sling, it's my favorite position. By midnight, the slings had emptied out, and I got into an available one, especially since I noticed that a former trick, a former San Francisco Leather Daddy, was across the room, observing an expressive bottom getting fisted in the other sling. Leather Daddy had fucked me two years ago on the floor in a crib at a playspace in the Mission. I remember him but I doubt he would remember me, as it was one of those anonymous fucks in the dark, and I was on my belly so he wouldn't have seen my face anyway. After topping the cute Chinese kid, I cleaned him off and smeared the leftover J-Lube on my ass and dick. So lubed, I lay in the sling and couldn't be more obvious about what I had in mind. Leather Daddy came over and slipped in his dick which my butt just sucked in, and gave me a restrained fuck, meaning that either it was too late, maybe he was a little tired or used up, and wanted me to do most of the work, so that's what I did...I maneuvered my butthole around his big fat black dick. Grabbing the chains of the sling, and arching my back and moving downwards, I was able to feel that schlong in my ass and it wasn't totally hard. Maybe Leather Daddy couldn't really get 'into' me and this was some kind of mercy fuck. We broke it off after about 10 minutes. Then as he stood a few feet away from me, wiping up, I decided that I wasn't going to give up so easily. I went over to him, got down and sucked my own mancunt off his black cock. This excited him, and he did get rock hard. I stepped back and on to the mattress, got on my back and Leather Daddy climbed on my ass and started to fuck me for real. Now dad is a leather bear with a bit of belly, not flabby but there's a roll of meat on there, and this made it hard for me to jack myself. I hoped he wouldn't lose interest, but I gambled that I wouldn't mess it up for him: I rolled over and got on my knees. Daddy followed and started to give me a real manfuck, adjusted my legs to suit himself like the confident top he is and by his breathing and sexy muttering, I concluded he thought he might be able to come. Where did this energy come from? What had I done? Maybe my ass looks better from that angle, but thankfully, he got really 'into' it. Neither of us came, but who cares?
On my way home I walked down 18th St. and the Pride crowds were diminishing but not disappearing...there was still a line to get into the Badlands, the Mix was crowded when I went in to take a piss. The Bar on Castro was crowded, too, as was The Cafe, the Twin Peaks, lots of streeet traffic, a lot of cops...it was 1 a.m. on a Sunday. Last call would be in 30 minutes and there were still lines to get in. But it was mostly a bridge and tunnel crowd and they didn't interest me, and they all seemed to know each other and I didn't know any of them, and furthermore, I am of a certain age. It wasn't that I was tired...I wasn't, really...but I know I didn't look my best, after a night of fisting and fucking. No close-ups after 1...p.m. or a.m.

Pride Cockpit Party

If there was a cute short latino or asian there, I was going to fuck him, that was it...I didn't need to see his face, he just needed to be short, dark, with his ass sticking up. I get to the Power Exchange a little later than usual, as I had taken my time getting ready, not the usual routine of rushing through the cleaning process to make it there by 9 p.m. I took the herbal viagra and followed the instructions this time, I pumped diligently while watching some favorite Treasure Island porn and just took my time. I had planned to fast, but after I got an unexpected invitation from a client for lunch downtown, I broke fast and also had a couple of martinis, which my health regimen requires. And yes, I avoided drinking just before the party, which has been the routine, resulting in performance problems. Tonight I really wanted to top, though, and for me that means taking the virility enhancer (and following the instructions), shoving a couple of cubes of frozen cum up my shitter just in case I get fucked, no alcohol and no angst...there will be lots of men there and lots of time.
Well, not really. I got there around 10 p.m. and the early birds (the party officially starts at 8) were already leaving, and everybody there is about 6 or 6-2...ideally, a top has to be taller than his bottom. There was one muscular little asian stud with a crew cut on all fours and seeing plenty of action (whom I shudda, wudda, cudda fucked if my erection wudda cooperated, and I don't like to pester serious bottoms as he surely was/is) and he had the best location, the mattress near the center which is more seductively lighted. It looked like I would be bottoming again. I took a less desirable mattress (lighting not bad but not the best) and got into my favorite doggy style posture...a skinny asian kid showed interest and started fingering my butthole. The presence of cum up my ass excited him and he stuck his slender rod up my ass, and gave me a nice workout. This kid played me like a fiddle, turning my slightly on my side and slamming it in at an angle. It was a nice dick, somewhat slender and not huge, but nice, just right for his rabbit fucking style. He shot a nice load up my ass, worked it around a little...mixing it up with my own cum, emitting that great slushy slurpy slopsound. Well, that was the best fuck of the evening. I got two more dicks, all too briefly, neither one enormous but certainly more than adequate, no loads beside the asian kid's.
I thought I was the only barefoot guy in the place...the other guys wear boots, running shoes, which I think is totally unsexy. Too me, hot bare sex means bare feet...I like to see them, I like them in my face when I'm topping. But there was one other guy who was trolling around wearing flip flops, which he lost somewhere along the way, because I eventually saw him on an adjacent mattress getting fucked by a lean muscular buzz cut type. The bottom has a creamy white skin that reads well in the dimly lit playspace, and dark hair and nice meaty thighs...he's rather tall so the thick legs look right on him. His nice big feet, their soles dirty from the cement floor, are up in the air, and now I'm churning. He's on his back taking it and I sprout wood...the Arize pill really does work if you take it correctly. I'm working on my dick now and getting a decent hard on. My idea is to move right in after buzz cut comes or moves on, but the nice bottom wants to suck a dick while he's getting fucked. He reaches over to the closest dick (not mine) of those jacking off and clustering around the mattress. To suck dick, he changes position and ends up on his knees, and causing the top to slip out and making him crawl out to the center of the mattress to keep fucking. It turns out the white bottom is even taller and bigger in stature than I thought. So I didn't get to put my dick up his ass but the memory of those brief minutes is enough to get me hard. I leave around midnight, and there are still a few guys checking in, but about three quarters of the guys have left already (after all, it's a school night) and I wonder if it really gets intense towards closing time, 2 a.m. Porn star Dan Fisk is working the check in desk, being his usual charming self.
Since I had to work on Friday, I caught the bus and went straight home. I jacked off a little bit to Dawson getting fucked, enjoyed a nightcap and went to bed...a really nice evening, thanks Paul Morris.

Bleedin' Love

I was free yesterday and up for a daytime fuck, somewhat out of character for me. In New York, I think of getting fucked in a penthouse, in LA it's outdoors by the pool and in SF it should be in a hillside house on stilts on a foggy night. This is stupid, I know...but I relate to the porn I grew up with, the Al Parker era, guys. In SF I want to be in a taxi on my way to a hook-up on Twin Peaks with layers of fog at midnight obscuring the glow from the street lamps. Yesterday's plan was for Twin Peaks all right, after a connection made on Manhunt, and I was looking forward to getting plugged by a big middle-aged black dude, one of my favorite types. But this part of Twin Peaks is characterized by blocks of schlocky dingbat apartments that remind me of San Diego. The bland architecture shows nothing to the street, but after being buzzed in, I feel my way through a series of anonymous looking stairwells and corridors until I reach the guy's apartment and see that the architect was focusing on San Francisco Bay, the view is awe-inspiring, humbling. The apartment is not awesome but a tacky hole jammed with all sorts of knick knacks, cheesy upholstery and lamps, butt-ugly pictures hanging on the walls...on the TV, the Wizard of Oz is playing, with the volume turned on loud enough to catch the munchkin chatter. Not a very sexy environment and the bright daylight isn't making it any sexier. Who said all gays have good taste? But to the purpose at hand: I started working on my host's big black dick and it was not a disappointment...a nice, curvy banana dick, perfection in fact. The guy's is not going to mess around...after a few minutes, he's got me on all fours on the bed that's protected by a lousy coverlet patterned with barnyard animals. I'm ready for serious sex, not silly sex. God...damn...it. He works his dick into my ass and goes to work...and my ready butthole easily closes up around it...it's a fine dick that pushes its way in and...up...up into that deep territory only occasionally plumbed. I took a snort of the poppers I had brought, and settled in for a nice long slow fuck...taking it in. But then...what...what? My nose feels funny. As the dude is fucking my ass, I'm not there...I'm more concerned with my nose and I prod it with my finger...blood!...god...damn...it. Here I am getting fucked and my nose is bleeding...this has happened before, once in a while, but this time, it's really bleeding and getting on the farm animals on the bedspread. Unfortunately, I couldn't fake my way through this, as the top has noticed.
'I think you should go.'
'I'm really sorry.'
'You should go...now.'
God...damn...it!

Fuck Engine by Slut Machine

Here's a new video by a new talent that should be of interest to all nasty barebackers and admirers of that fetish...it's called Fuck Engine and it's by a new (to me, at least) SF-based studio calling itself Slut Machine. The director is a guy named Frank Stein. Now I've had personal business dealings with a Frank Stein at Treasure Island Media...a UPS delivery problem...and he was definitely a nice guy with a pleasant, clean cut such as it is these days, appearance and demeanor. If it it the same dude (and I believe that it is) he learned a lot during his time working for Paul Morris because with this venture, he goes right to the top rung of bareback porn directorial talent...right up there with Bill & John at Hot Desert Knights, Sean Storm, Gary Carlton, Steven JefQuin and the aforementioned Mr. Morris.
Fuck Engine is the hottest video I've seen in months (and it's been a disappointing few months, lately), capturing the essential dark underside of anonymous sex...none of the performers is credited, but they are portrayed as marginal types: skinheads, punks, dopers, slackers, fucking in plain, stripped down architectural settings...platforms, slings, spaces without distracting decoration, at best, the anonymous sheet burner motel room. There are some familiar faces, although uncredited...Steve Parker is now a full-fledged hot silver daddy, and there's a kid who looks a lot like Holden Grey, one of the boys profiled in Sex in LA, Part 2...I thought he was escorting in New York but am glad if he's in SF doing hardcore bareback, that makes 4 alumni from the Sex in LA cast. The rest are depicted as sexy low-life street trash who follow the lead of their dicks, and it works well...Frank Stein demonstrates some artistry in the staging and angle shots...there are plenty of close ups, middle range shots of fucking with plunging dicks, sweat, tattoos, cock rings, cummy assholes. There are no twinks in this neighborhood.
This video may be hard to find. Superstar Video in SF where I rented mine has a couple of copies. I haven't seen it in the stores yet.
I'm not going to waste your and my time writing about all the lousy videos I've seen lately...by lousy I don't mean not up to my personal taste...I'm talking about uninspired robotic fucking by jarhead tops, crotch shadows, and all those scenes where you can't see anything going on. There's none of that in Fuck Engine. See it, buy it for your collection. You'll appreciate it when you're older and can't fuck anymore.

A rediscovered Top

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

T-cell mystery...or maybe not

It was time for my periodic visit to the VA, and with a new doctor. I might have been the last appointment of the day for there were only a couple of others in the waiting room...a lounge, really, as the VA staffers do well for us...fresh coffee, magazines, TV. There have been times when a dozen or so vets occupied the lounge, some of longstanding associations who conversed familiarly with personal news. I suspect we are all HIVers as we seem to fit the demographic, men in their 40's-50's-60's, most of us existing in precarious situations and I suspect some of us are quite on the edge of slipping into destitution. Thank God for the VA, this great nation and its great institutions and its deference to good old Christian guilt.
The unexpected revelation: my T-cell count is up, way up, to well over 600...for years it had settled around 300-350, never higher than 350. What have I done differently? It has to be the apple cider vinegar...a drop in a glass of water first thing in the morning, and a second drink of same before retiring...before the tooth brushing, since the acid can't be good for one's teeth. That has to be it. Maybe that crazy old doctor in Vermont with his folk medicine wasn't so crazy. Ah, and the viral load remains undetectable. Despite much indiscriminate whoring around, anonymous sex, charged loads up the ass and fuck parties with other poz guys. I don't want to give the impression that HIV is not so bad and can be controlled with doses of apple cider vinegar...that would be irresponsible...so this information will be restricted to this blog and its readers. I might share with other poz bruthas. As for the cute little bug chasers out there...well, there are a great many jackasses out there, most of them in their 20's who believe they are invincible and that HIV is little more than a manageable nuisance. This is a fallacious notion...but I am delighted with my own personal history...at least for today and after this visit. That's all I can say, as far as I can go. Who knows if this mystery can be sustained? We will return to this matter in later postings.

Back in the Saddle Again

Aaack, I have been sick with this nasty flu! And out of commission for a couple of weeks. It was really bad for only the first 36 hours or so, and then it was just a nuisance with annoying coughing and a raspy, smoky voice that hung on for weeks. It's a bore to relate more so I'll spare you the rest. Of course my thoughts drifted to my immune system...and whether it had been taxed heavily...one can't help thinking about it despite the stories in the papers about how this year's flu vaccine had 'failed,' did it take longer than usual, 'normal' whatever that may mean, to recover this time? I haven't been so sick for 10 years or so...well, that time I ended up in the hospital and then my whole life changed. More about that some other time.
As soon as I felt presentable: I searched manhunt and barebackrt for hook-ups. Ah, this time, my trick was only a few blocks away, walking distance...no expensive cabs, or tiresome buses and streetcars killing the mood. I was pretty horned up by the time I got to G.'s flat in a nice building on a lower slope of Nob Hill. A beer, some agreeable chit chat and then we got down to business...an adequate cock and a big bed...but jeez, the guy's taste in music was a minor turn-off, not a deal killer, but not appropriate for some nasty taboo bareback fucking...mainstream easy-listening from The City's 'favorite' channel...I persuaded G. to change to my station of circuit party trash. Maybe it's psychological but the music that accompanied one of the best fucks of my career (on a rimseat, and then in a sling, loaded on vodka and cum in a private house off Upper Market) was African tribal beats and chants...shit!! that was hot!...thinking about it gets me hard. But it is hard to find fuck music on the radio, except for occasional late night trance stuff on a progressive FM station but who wants to kill the mood diddling with the radio? Note to self: check out the African dept. at Virgin records. But it was White Party sort of stuff that accompanied G.'s thrusts into my ass...goddammit we older guys know how to fuck...shifting around, moving my legs up, flipping me over, slamming me on my side...I moved right along with every shift, his nice dick never slipped out, and I got some nice probes into my love canal, my shitter was gripping his schlong like no tomorrow.
Nice session, no nut, walked home around 1 a.m., pleasant night, the air having equalized, no winter edge that night. Home, got ready for bed, watching Sean Storm getting plugged on a massage table in tropical Florida. Beat off a little, fell asleep, feeling that the illness was really over, and the good old horndog tendencies were back.

Cockpit Party

Same great space in The Mission, different great crowd, smaller crowd than I had expected, but a successful venture nonetheless. What makes a great party? Everybody who wants to fuck...fucks, and everybody who wants to get fucked...gets fucked. In my case, more cock up my ass than I've had in a long time...six plowings, three by the same guy who kept coming back for more, all kinds of guys...no loads, though...I'm pretty sure about that...I thought I might be carrying a nice load up there nothing came out although I pushed out as hard as I could. I have not mastered this fetish. When I first saw Paul Morris' Breed Me years ago, I was astounded and impressed...the movie opens with a headless perfomer working his ass over with a dildo, and then several loads of messy cum just drips...no...pours...pours out in rivulets...about the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Real mancum, not that pina colada mix phony cum some porn studios resign to, in a pinch. I've never mastered this art of squeezing the stuff out...even after a memorable night in PalmSprings when I took six hot loads, I couldn't get the stuff out, and believe me, I tried. The next morning, I took a squat and it all came out in one movement, which was nice in its own way.
Anyway no loads at the Cockpit this St. Valentine's Day. I was moved to top on two occasions...a tiny pinoy was stretched out on a mattress and taking all comers, and the second was a short, built Asian muscleboi on the bed in what I call the Victorian room...a proper bed with a headboard and drapped in GI-issue netting. In each case, I hesitated...and lost. Other guys moved in and took over for long sessions...and in my case, a better offer to bottom again turned up within minutes. The Cockpit is the hottest venue for uninhibited mansex going on in the City right now...good lighting, jsut enough lighting, not too dark...several (!) mattresses, benches, sofas, a sling, the 'Victorian' room, another room that I call the Egyptian Room, and a rapidly changing fluid mix of tops and bottoms. Thanks, Cockpit guys!

A Day in the Life of Chris Neal, AlphaMale video

Chris Neal, escort and bareback pornstar, looks like a throwback to another era...the era of 'rough trade,' a term that sounds terribly dated now but does come up now and then. Chris has an attractive, scruffy jarhead kind of look, enhanced by prison style tattoos all over, including his dick, a real turn for his fans. This recent video shows some recent ink work on his left arm, which is beginning to look like an oriental-inspired mural of color. Chris might or might not be Southern, but he surely reminds me of the white trash guys I grew up with in SoCal's tacky so-called Inland Empire. Chris Neal's fans won't be disappointed by this video...A Day in the Life...Chris playing with himself in the shower, Chris getting head in the gym, Chris fucking pornpup Billy Cochran in a chair, Chris fucking the pool boi, and finally Chris getting it from two black tops...on a bench. While not up to the quality of the Treasure Island Media products (against which all bareback porn must be compared), there is an early morning glow to the lighting, it goes to a faint pink with subtle shadows, which is...sexy. Recommended for Chris Neal fans. If a porn producer ever wants to make a bareback version of Sam Steward's Phil Andros stories, he should look into Chris Neal...the guy's a natural for Phil Andros, the quintessential black booted, leather jacketed rough trade of the '50's. Chris also has a nice, unaffected, soft vocal delivery.
Bareback Fuckers is a new video by AlphaMale Media...and it's a series of unrelated pairings of Euro couples. It's pretty middle class and the guys are in monogamous relationships, so while the models are decent looking, even hot by daddy standards, it's a bit like watching nice clean cut straight couples having sex in suburbia. Does that turn you on? If so, then this one's for you.

It's St. Valentine's Day and '60's starlet Olivia Hussey appears in person on stage at the Castro Theater's showing of Zeffirelli's Romeo and Juliet tonight. Last night I was going to go out to the Fruit Cocktail reading at A Different Light and then top it off with Brain Farts at the Outlook, but then it got windy and cold, and I got lazy and lost interest. Instead I stayed home for some autosex, helped along by What I Can't See 2, mostly as a warm up for the Cockpit Party tonight.

The bears are here for the International Bear Rendezvous! Hope the restaurants make a killing.

Goldilocks and Three Thousand Bears

There was much blab on the radio (Ener-G 92.7fm) this a.m. regarding the international Bear Rendezvous slated for this weekend in our fair City with some terminology unknown to me. Of course we have navigated the world of bears and cubs, where girth and hair are the principal defining characteristics. But of course not all bears are fat, as you may have assumed...no, we have musclebears and musclecubs, these being the more athletic varieties, but now we have silverbears and polarbears, those bears that bear winter colors year round...I could figure that one out for myself, but what of Goldilocks?
Fernando and Greg, the charmingly opinionated d.j. duo on Ener-G's morning show, revealed more terminology that I mentioned earlier: more than a few Goldilocks were expected to prowl the streets of the Castro and SOMA this weekend. What is a Goldilocks, do you ask? According to Greg, a Goldilocks is a bear's own fag hag, a straight girl who hangs with bears. Uhm, I haven't met one of these, so maybe I should broaden my horizons, a bit. Of course, I've known a great many bears and they are generally a kind, gentle breed...I have NEVER encountered a loud, obnoxious bear...evidently, after a winter of hibernation they are by nature kind and gentle and friendly.
I'll do better about attending bear events; I'll admit to a certain fascination with what have been billed as 'go go bears,' as they have lived up to the tale that heavyset people are often light on their feet and good dancers.
The Bear Rendezvous runs through the weekend with all sorts of socializing and some big deal affair at the Castro Theater hosted by Kathy Griffin.
At the moment my thoughts are focused on the upcoming Cockpit party and the GayVn awards ceremony, neither of which have much to do with Bears. Ah, generally speaking.

A poz gay barebacker documents his times

This is a linear documentary by a poz gay barebacker...of thoughts about sex, the search for sex and the consummation of sex during these muddled times. Public figures and public places will be identified...private individuals and private places will not be identified but will be described as observed or experienced.

Pozboi lives in San Francisco but considers the West Coast as his domain. Trips beyond his domain do occur and will be documented. Fast approaching middle age and thoroughly aware of his HIV-positive status, he is dedicated to the pursuit of sex for the duration of a lifetime that he will play out to the very end. This is a documentary and is not an editorial...written so that future historians will know how HIV-positive gay men lived and shared the experiences of sex and disease, in the shadow of a taboo that was seldom acknowledged because of fear or the pressure to appear politically correct. This is my story. This is our story.

I am William Harry, known, to pozbois throughout, as Billy Twee.