Saturday, September 29, 2012

Midnight Buttmunching

It was around midnight at the Steamworks Berkeley on a Lights Out Thursday and I couldn't remember at what hour I had to check out...or renew.  It turned out that our check out time was 3:00 a.m., and I had a great parking spot right across the street, so I decided to let it play out.  It had not been busy, but after I decided to return to my favorite position...on my my room, oddly enough, things picked up.  A couple of sheathed fucks were nothing to write home about (or blog about), but just before 1 a.m., a built black daddy made my room his own and went down on my very available ass.  I don't know what's considered top or bottom in the world of eating ass, but any guy can eat my ass out for as long as he wants as long as he fucks it afterwards.  I've always considered ass-eating as a prelude to some serious digging.  But the clue comes when a dude spends longer than a few minutes eating you out, and that's what happened here.  When daddy spent elongated minutes tongue-ing my slick primed hole, I knew he wasn't going to fuck me.

Then a white dad with a shaved crotch returned (he'd fucked me hours earlier, then abruptly left, which is not unusual), it's now, around 2 a.m., following that eating out session that went on way too long as far as I'm concerned.  But then again, that black daddy got what he wanted and left happy...we aim to please.  This Shaved Crotch wanted to fuck and that he did, laying down some aggressive dick probing, with my ass working hard to stay still and firm getting his every inch...all seven or so.  I don't think he shot a load, but he acted as if he did...I can usually tell by the change in thrust and draw, and he did keep his thick white raw shaft deep in my ass for me to massage with my buttwalls...I've gotten damned good at this.  They all grunt like hawgs.  He also got me going with my raunchy toilet talk, yellin' as is my usual.

Getting it on in bath houses is so unpredictable, one never Thursday night, it was ass-eating and then a good raw fuck.  I wish it could have been in reverse order, but shit man, we can't get it the way we want all the time.  Hell, that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

Monday, September 17, 2012

The Healing Power of Piss

For those of you who play with vacuum pumps and who have developed a blister on your dick every now and then: think piss.  Yes, these blisters can become unsightly and to the uninitiated, will suggest a communicable venereal disease, especially towards the end when that ugly purple scab develops.  Of course you will lance the pesky devil as soon as you notice it, and before he gets really big...but did you know that piss will speed the blister's healing?  Spread a little pee on the blister as often as possible, and the blister will dry out much quicker and the scab won't look so goddamned butt ugly.
Another Helpful Household Hint from Hell-oise.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Angry Gay Witches Hex Albertsons SuperMarkets; Stores Close

A couple of gay witches I know who live out near Sacramento asked a favor of me a while back.  It seemed simple: go to an Albertsons supermarket and get them a shopping bag, specifically an Albertsons shopping bag.  I don't do Albertsons.  I have my own little boycott going because of  their contributions to Mormon-based community programs.  I admit Albertsons is in a tough spot as they're based in Idaho, a strongly prejudiced 'Mormon state' and have to do these things or be shunned by the Mormon faithful.  So it's good marketing on their part, but it's too bad the Mormons are such an exclusive, racially-tinged lot with obscure fancifully-conceived links to the Bible, and with no historical, anthropological or archaeological evidence to support their goofball ideas.  But I digress.  My personal war with the Albertsons people is only for my own personal satisfaction, but with witches, and gay ones at that, the fight goes beyond personal, it's a general all-out war.  Now I don't know a helluva lot about witches, but I don't think they take on organized religions as such...they'd never declare a jihad sort of thing, but they can and do hex people and since even before the Citizens United decision, organizations or corporations who are considered people.

The witches were in a twist over the Mormons' covert support of Proposition 8 in California where the voters were asked to legislate what constitutes a family unit in California.  People don't directly legislate of course, so the whole idea was fucked from the get-go; Prop. 8 is playing out a slow, lingering death in the courts as we speak.  But most of the money supporting Prop. 8 was organized and channeled through Mormon-related shills, I think even the poor hapless Knights of Columbus got messed up in it, and that stoked the witches' ire.  These two weren't going to take on the Mormon business-masquerading as a religion-but they were going to take on the Mormon sucker list.  They went for Albertsons because they have a presence in California and were hex-able.  Thanks to a shopping bag, I guess...I don't know much about the ritual of laying down a hex, and I'm not sure I want to know.  This hex must have been executed a long time ago, because Prop. 8 passed back in 2008.  I don't think hexes work right away, necessarily, or maybe the witches are capable of controlling the negative energy that sucks away life from the target.  But this is a fact: Albertsons is in financial trouble and last week announced the closing of at least a dozen stores in California, and you can expect more to come.  I don't think witches are would have to ask them and I don't ask much of my witch friends...but it's a wonder if the Romney prominence got a Mormon bug up the witches' asses...I'm just thinking.

As for Mormons, my sentiments have never changed: it ain't a religion.  It's a business and for most of its believers, a scam.  I must confess I'm a Catholic and don't wish anybody any physical harm, but the Good Lord made it perfectly clear with His 2nd (that's how important it is, the 2nd!) Commandment;

Thou shalt take the name of the Lord in vain.

You know what that means, doncha?  It doesn't mean 'don't cuss.'  It means don't muck the Lord's name in profit-gaining enterprises like business or politics.  The Mormon Church is certanly guilty of this, in spades.  I wouldn't know, but I do wonder if hell has a special ring for Mormons.  Don't bother checking won't find any Mormons there because no matter what Joseph Smith dreamed up, there was no lost tribe of Israel traveling in Viking-like (could you get any whiter?) to the New World where Paradise would be regained on a piece of real estate just outside St. Louis, MO.  And that's a fact.

Friday, September 7, 2012

Antonio Biaggi: What Next?

He's certainly been around these past couple of years performing everywhere...from lower end (but still mega-hot) studios like Knightbreeders to the top of the line Treasure Island Media, and straight videos, too, I gather. Given the shelf life of pornstars, he's aware and smart, because he has a lot of other things going on. I'm talking about the super mega superstar top Antonio Biaggi, of course. He's dabbled in retail and now he oversees a baking enterprise, which according to his website, is expanding to inclusion at the Williams-Sonoma stores. His website is an interesting read, although he doesn't get into his personal sex life very much; he does get into political, social and cultural commentary, and he's charmingly candid. If he's as smart as I think he is, he'll market himself through his own videos, in the same way that Chase Coxx and Robby Mendez have in their individual endeavors. Any Antonio Biaggi porn enterprise is going to have legs, and it shouldn't be hard to find an angel, an investor to get him through the spendy parts. With luck, he could end up a porn mini-mogul. What I like about Antonio (and he's from Puerto Rico, not Italy)is that he appears to be totally into being a pornstar. He's having a great time and Paul Morris at Treasure Island Media is cultivating an image for him, and Antonio is along for the ride. Literally. TIM's latest video 'Park and Ride' is thematic, something I've been strongly encouraging, alluding to mobile pick-ups. I gotta confess that I have not seen the whole video...I can't afford to buy videos anymore, at least for a while...but the 'limo sequence' with Logan Stevens is notable, not the least for packaging Antonio like the superstar he is. The scene opens with AB riding around the streets of Manhattan in a long, low, black limo, and we're introduced to his square-boots up to his casual dressy shirt and jacket...he looks like a professional athlete, a rock promoter, a restaurateur or a classy drug dealer. But the camera moves slowly, letting us take in all the details...we already know enough to get our fantasies roaring by the time he picks up a white trash street hustler played by Logan Stevens. Mr. Stevens is a well-marketed escort in New York, a top most of the time and openly poz, so knowing these details, my fantasy machine was smokin'. You can't go wrong with these two, and you'll have to get the video for the details, but let me say that LS gets stripped down to his bare feet as he gets fucked in the backseat of the limo, something a lot of us have wanted to do. Buy this video...times are rough for the porn industry, but more about that in another blog. There have been a few porn tops who knew what they had, or at the very least, were game for what the director wanted and went along with it, very capably. Jeff Palmer did the trashy, glittery, bleached out rockstar angle...minus the spandex. Jeff Stryker channeled Elvis (and very nicely) and Chad Douglas did the Hollywood gigolo bit...ah Chad Douglas, shirtless with that '80's shag trailing down, in a Cadillac convertible trolling the hills of Bel Air looking for rich frat boys to fuck...Kevin Williams, Kevin Wilde, Cory Monroe all took Chad's killer seed up their little butts. Now that's something I, and others, remember to this day. 'I want a personal exercise coach...and his name is...Chad Douglas,' Kevin Williams says, phoning an escort service. Even now, years later, my cock starts to stiffen. I really hope TIM has more plans for Antonio that follow along the theme set in 'Park and Ride.' Maybe I'll start buying dvd's again.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Weeknight Bath House Sex

It's been over a month since I last posted, and I apologize to all you readers, but there hasn't been that much bareback-wise to write about. Mostly, it's been a month of sheathed, rubbered, sealed and protected, and ah...rather ordinary sex. OK, it's better than watching television or staring into a computer least I got to feel the pulsating heat of human contact, but last month every cut of manmeat, that probed its way into my deep, well-dredged, willing and accommodating fuck canal, was wrapped in casing better reserved for Oscar Mayer or Jimmy Dean. I have a couple of buddies who turn down any top in a bath house who wants to wear a condom. I haven't gone that rigid, and I have spent more time looking for sex in bath houses this past month than I have in a long while. I've been trying to tie in my sexual adventures with my work schedule and it hasn't been working out all that great because it means hitting the tubs on a weeknight. I've been hitting the Steamworks in Berkeley (one of two bath houses in the greater SF Bay Region), and I love the Steamworks...I love the staff, the customer service (more about that further on), the douching stations, the environment...clean but just dark enough to suggest a dirty scene, and the wide variety of men...and oh yeah, the music, with the DJs (in jockstraps) who play at the CumUnion on Wednesdays...those guys are great. But the bath house crowd these days is mostly oral, I think, and my being an analist rather than an oralist means any bath house on a Wednesday doesn't work for me. And I'm thinking that weeknights really are slow, maybe no matter where you are. There was a time, in Old San Francisco, when there was no such thing as a slow night at the baths. In SF in the bad old days, there were the Post St. Baths, the 21st St. Baths, the Bulldog (incredible!), Manimals, the Barracks, the Embassy, Jack's on Post St. (I think it was Jacks, it was pretty small but had its audience), and the grand-daddy, the Club Baths or as we called it...Eighth &'s now...a ministry for homeless men run by the Episcopal church...god bless them. 8th & Howard made it easy: if you were hot (maybe even only semi-hot), you got a discount coupon put into your security drawer at check-out...$2 fuckin' dollars for a locker on a Tuesday(!). Two fuckin' dollars! I've forgotten but a regular locker must have been $7-8 bucks, such were the times. Of course, we went on Tuesdays. We loved 8th & Howard because there were so many bars within staggering distance, and there was always a louche environment, and a louche staff who thought it was sexy to be rude and insulting, making a chub remove his coat so they could see how fat he was, and to humiliate him, and then just to be super-snarky, they'd let him in but they'd give him a shitty room on the first floor. But as I recall it was never slow on Tuesdays...or Wednesdays, and by Thursday it was really rockin'. Granted, Monday nights had to be slow...I'm guessing as, like thousands of others, I never went to the baths on a Monday. Two fuckin' dollars! Steamworks actually does offer a discount for Tues. or Wed., it's a couple of dollars off the locker rate, and the discount is on your receipt. Sometimes, when the staff is really busy they might not point that out, but most of the time, they do. Then I went to the Steamworks on a Sunday, and it was the last day of the Olympics, so I guess everybody stayed home to watch George Michael close the festivities, and the sex wasn't as good as it had been on a Wed. We got only one fuck and it was, of course, sheathed, but the dick was rock hard throughout, and fortunately, the top wasn't all that well-hung, as that dick stayed inside the whole time he was switching positions on me and trying out all kinds of gymnastics moves...and I kept up right with him and I was sure he'd slip out but he did'nt...a broomstick fuck...and no nut. When weeknights at the baths return to the way they used to be, then we will have truly conquered the dark aura of AIDS.