What Blatino Oasis Is Not

It just so happened that I was in Palm Springs the same weekend as Blatino Oasis, so naturally I went down valley to the Cathedral City Boys Club to check it out.  I had seen videos on xtube that made it look irresistible to me: scores of handsome black men, appropriately scantily garbed, lotsa drinks, laughs, strip shows, live sex shows and dj's around the clock...the relentless hot sun of the desert...what's not to like?  Actually, I was looking forward to what went on after the sun went down.
Now I know: not much.  If you, like me, were expecting some sort of back room you'd find at The Black Party, a situation where no hole goes unplugged, you'd be as disappointed as I am.  No such thing at the Blatino Oasis I was at.

The set-up at CCBC is a cluster of small cabins, each one easily accessible to the next, that seems to encourage all those looky-loos who just go from one to the next, door slamming, and similar heads poking around, those voyaging voyeurs.  One cute white boy legs up in the sling was totally ignored for more than hour.  I oughta know: I was in the sling opposite the whole time.  I stayed a little longer and I was as good as ignored, a couple of buttslaps and some finger probes, but no black cock interested in slamming one of the biggest holes in the desert.

The crowd that Sunday morning (I checked in around 1:30) was young, social and into silly playacting...without any real black studs into fucking.

My suggestion to CCBC: turn down the lights, way too much light in those sexshacks.

Billy Twee's House of Sin

Here's an apology to all you guys, who have diligently read my posts, for the lengthy intermission since my last contribution to this blog.  No, I was not in the hospital, nor was I in jail. Here's what's been going on: I've been completely immersed in real estate transactions; selling properties, paying off all my bills, taking care of other fiscal obligations.  Then there was the process of finding a place where I could someday retire, but that meant a place that wasn't going to eat up my last dollar.  And then, get a new loan.  And then, etc., etc., etc.  It took some doin' but the deal closed!

Well, Billy Twee has found his place in the sun, quite literally...in the Colorado Desert, the Coachella Valley of Southern California, where the days are hot and the nights are warm, most of the year. Yeah, I've finally bought the place in Palm Springs, something I've wanted ever since I hit the bareback party circuit masterminded by John Singleton and the late Bill Gardner of Hot Desert Knights...ah, going back 15 years.  Yes, indeed, it was April of 2000 when I first had this dream.

You latter-day-sinners wouldn't believe those parties.  It was an airplane hanger-sized venue, with heavy black ceiling-to floor draperies (were they leather?  I can't recall) closing off play areas, a row of 6 or 7 slings, a fuck bench or two, cages, and a St. Andrew's cross (why St. Andrew, I've gotta ask...what happened to him? the Romans must have flogged him), a piss area with a couple of old tubs and a massive leather upholstered raised platform for hot fucking that could be observed at standing eye level.  And most important, appropriate lighting, with just the right amount of shade and shadow.  My first time, I had the time of my life, taking pornstar dick - the HDK studs were usually there, that's how local the bareback scene was in those days - and experimenting with a teensy bit of crystal (me, maybe the pornstars, too).  I was so stoked after this night of raunchy sex, I got into my car...it was about 4 a.m. and they were kicking us out...and drove the 400 plus miles to San Francisco straightaway, all the while thinking I gotta get a piece of this and I think I can!

Well, it took a while, but I've done it, not that I could ever replicate those hot desert (k)nights...but I can try.  For once in my life, I have room, I have privacy, and I have the wherewithal, the friends and contacts, and the media, and at least for now, the physical capacity.  And for the first time ever, ever, I can host at will.

So watch this space because I intend to host fisting parties, escorts, outdoor fucking in the hot, dry night under that incredible desert sky, and most important, I'm gonna give back to all the friends in Palm Springs, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Sacramento, Las Vegas, New York and Florida who have been so nice to me over the years.

You guys gotta understand, now I can be as loud and as messy as I want, and so can you!

Fast and Furious Slingfuck Closes Sex Party

One must show his best manners when he is the last one left at a sex party and the host isn't interested in having sex with him.  This happened to me last Sunday, but my good manners were rewarded in the end.

Now understand that I had arrived late by two whole hours, which is a long time when it comes to sex.  There were guys already leaving as I was undressing.  I had a couple of beers, and just enjoyed the fine desert weather, but the crowd thinned to nothing as I lounged alone, out back, poolside...with a cool Tecate in hand.  It was so nice maybe I didn't care if I got fucked that day.  But I was a guest, and nobody likes a guest who doesn't know when to leave.

I had fully dressed, such as it was...four articles of clothing: baseball cap, an old orange A&F tennis shirt, khaki cargo shorts and flip flops...and then a tall, tanned stud, decorated in tribal tattoos, peeked from behind a black curtain.

'I know you,' he said.
'Yeah, and I know you, but from where?'
'I fucked you!'
'Oh yeah!  You're (his barebackrt profile name)!'

'Are you really goin'?'
'Well, it's like everybody's left.'
"I haven't left. Get your ass in the sling ,if you want.'

Well, hell yeah, I want. This dude has a torpedo-shaped prod that he likes to drill relentlessly into toxic asses, shooting a load, then hustling off.  He's fucked me a few times, always on a mattress, always with a lot of vigor, so I knew that a sling would only make his performance better.  I was right.  This was a fast and furious fuck, an athletic breeding lasting only 3 or 4 minutes but something you'll remember for a long time.  Then we weren't alone anymore; the host had shown up and a youngish, firm and in-shape cub had materialized from somewhere.  Cubby fortunately had no problem with sloppy seconds, fucking me nicely and cumming within a couple of minutes.  Two good fucks and two loads within 5 minutes whereas sometimes it's 5 hours between fucks.  I guess you need a sling to make it sing.  No complaints here.

Hot Daddy Dumps Poz Load in a Quick Fuck

We often read from men who abhor the Chatty Cathies of the wireless world...'not here to chat' is a succinct message to all those timid creatures who blow big on the internet and much less so in reality. These characters get off on anxious adrenalin rushes and not so much on fucking, trading e-mails ad infinitum without the intention of fucking, and are perfectly satisfied to play that game. Those of us seeking real sex just wish they'd set up their website so they can Chatter Away with others of like temperment...maybe ChattyPatty.com. But... it's we don't have to dream the 15 minute hook-up among the men who get real and get down. Sometimes they really do happen. I'm in my favorite wireless access coffee shop in downtown Palm Springs with a cleaned out hole and a horned up attitude, post my intention to get fucked right now and then am genuinely surprised when I get three responses within the first five minutes. It's about 10 in the morning on a Wednesday, a ripe time to get fucked maybe only in Palm Springs. Naturally, I answer all e-mails as a matter of principle...yeah, even the Chatty Cathies...but naturally I'm going with the closest one. This turns out to be a mobile home in a park about a three minute drive away. The top texts me clear directions, while I'm starting up the engine...Kesha comes on the radio...before Kesha is finished, I'm on his bed and on my back getting drilled by a nice, stubby, thick cock. I love missionary style because I can make and hold eye contact and by now I'm an expert at reading faces and I love it when our eyes lock...it's all a matter of concentration. This top daddy then blasts a nice big load up my worked out hole. He took a quick image shot with his cell phone, which I can e-mail to anyone who's interested, but which I'm too dumb to figure out how to publish on this blog. It's all quick and intense and great, and when it's over, it's over. Not much apres sexchat here. We'll hook up with this Dad again, but for right now, it's over so I get the hell out. I get back to my car and the coffee is still warm. I get back to the coffee house and the same people who were there are still there and the seat I vacated, is still vacant. And I went right back online to check out what could be next. Only this time, there's a fresh poz load warming up my manhole.

Human Butt Plug

The Human Butt Plug is the best way to describe this Palm Springs top, with whom I've communicated several times before, whom I finally hooked up with last Sunday night. It was already around 10 p.m. when I logged into barebackrt to check out what was happening late on a Sunday night, in Palm Springs not necessarily the best time. I wasn't online for more than 5 minutes, when I got 'pinged' by Human Butt Plug, and within minutes I was on my way to his place in the gay ghetto of Warm Sands. He doesn't call himself the Human Butt Plug...I do. This guy's endowment is so big and fat that he can bring pleasure even when only semi-hard. As I sat down on his plumped up manmeat I felt my buttlips stretch and fit over that knob of his, and he didn't need to do much more...I had that fulfilling sensation one gets with his favorite butt plug...the one where the slightest movement causes subtle gentle ripples along the walls of your fuckchute. I maximized my good fortune by squeezing his shaft with my buttmuscles and massaging it, sending little jolts of pleasure up, down, everywhere. Butt Plug didn't let me do all the work: he told me when to move forward, when to back up, when to twist, and finally he was flipping me outwards like a tailgate, and that fat dick never once slipped out...I just kept the clamp on as best as I could and his cock is big enough to stay in. There was a third to our little party that night, a latino guy who I'd buddylisted a while ago...and I assume he got his ass worked over after I left, which I did around 2 a.m., but not before probing Butt Plug's butt with my talented little hands. His canal was not the deepest but it was certainly wide enough to provide for lots of fun...this closing was just a 'getting to know you' kind of fisting session...we both agreed to take it to the next step and soon. We also agreed that the 'tight hole' was vastly over-rated, surmising that the guys with tight holes just aren't getting around enough.

Dining Room Sling Fuck

Another hook-up in Cathedral City, and once again in the Cove, on a Saturday morning, around 11...through the services provided by Barebackrt. The dynamic: a gay partnered couple hosting a couple of friends for the weekend, and a cute schnauzer thrown in for the bargain. Guys in their 30's-40's, in good shape and evidently financially secure, a nicely landscaped yard in the modern desert style, a bland but well-kempt house, with a sling set up in the dining room, very middle class, very American, with 70's disco tracks filling the house...all rather memorable, and therefore, enticing...something I want to remember forever. A blonde guy ate me out for a good half hour, and then his partner came in, a bearded, short-haired muscular young dad who addressed his partner as 'boyfriend.' Dad put me in the sling and fucked me for another half hour, maintaining a fierce pace and never took a break, impressive, a nice good morning fuck...in a sling...in America's kitchen. Dad never came, but I could sense that he was tiring, and who wouldn't? I called it off, finally, satisfied, and I think he was, too, in our 'mature' way, when just the intimate contact is enough.