Where have all the Chad Douglases gone? That isn't my line...Somebody else used that language on the Treasure Island website's open forum (I think), lamenting the lack of decent dick in his life. The writer must have been a bottom of a certain age to recall maybe the greatest stud in the old Falcon Studios stable, maybe the greatest top in porn history, and I'd commiserate with that sentiment entirely, based on how things have been going for me, lately.
Guys, it's been a while since I last posted. I haven't posted because my sex life of late has been substantially less than fabulous. Until last Monday, that is. Most of my fucks over the past couple of weeks have been sheathed, rubbered, and pretty ordinary, so there was no point in boring the pants off of you all with renditions of how ordinary the sex has been. If it wasn't ordinary, then it was comical, like the fucking I got from the guy whose equipment was about the size of a wine bottle cork. Corky actually did cum up my ass and I did manage to squeeze the last drop of cum out of that dick, but somehow I sense nobody wants a blow by blow detail of that deposit. Corky was one of two or three bareback fucks; all the rest were protected, so-called safe sex encounters and not in the spirit of this blog.
Some of you know that I work from my home which makes hosting during the daytime quite possible. I go straight to barebackrt and post and just check periodically while I go about my professional business life. I post for only an hour or so, sometimes renewing the post, because I have found that posting for a period of 4 to 6hours encourages a lot of idiotic chatter from people who have no intention of fucking at all. So when a buddy sends you a message that reads, 'I'll be there in an hour,' you know it's for real.
And he was for real. A slender young/old, old/young (he admitted to being 50) dad with a long, slender tool that plumbed my assline for a good 10 minutes before depositing a nice poz load in that ole cumbucket. Then he simply lay on my back, with his dick fully immersed in a buttcanal swimming with toxic juice, while I did my best to massage his pozbone with my well-trained buttmuscles, all the while he was whispering nasty poz talk into my ear, and I talked right back with some toilet talk of my own. It could have been Chad Douglas for all I cared, but it was better than Chad because Chad is dead and I'll blog about him tomorrow maybe. But for now, Chad Douglas is a Monday day fuck, and one I hope turns into a regular. So remember there are lots of Chad Douglases out there...they just all don't look like Chad Douglas. But give them a chance, it could be better than you think.
Showing posts with label poz dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poz dad. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Friday, February 26, 2010
Tag Team Bottoming at the Cockpit Party at Mack
Men, readers of this blog already know that Mack doesn't really work for me...it should, but alas, it doesn't. For readers who don't know what Mack is: it's a sex club on Folsom St. and probably the only game in town for skin on skin mansex. Officially, bareback sex doesn't happen here, and the management provides condom dispensers in all the play areas for those who want them. Last night, though, Mack was closed for a private party hosted by the guys at Cockpit, which is related to Treasure Island Media, whose 'corporate offices' (yeah this is a multi-million dollar industry) are located just around the corner.
Mack doesn't work well for me because it's mostly about having sex standing up and with your shoes on. There are 3 or 4 sling rooms, a couple of bunks, a bath tub for piss aficionados, and encounter areas on platforms which must be reached by ladders.
Having been here not that long ago (read the January blog post), I went straight to the bunk looking to stake myself some cum dump real estate...but shit, a hot daddy was already there...and he was a big daddy, maybe 6-4 and these guys take up a lot of space. Dad was butt up on all fours, and he did have a gorgeous flawless ass (I guess Dad is about 50) with a little pink (tight?) hole. And he was built(!) but with big shoulders, the tell tale pockmarks of steroid use on his back, a 'Crix' belly and a Viagra-fueled rock hard dick. And dare I say, hopefully...poz. I wedged myself into what space was left, hoping to entice tops into a tag team situation...the comingling of cum, buttjuices, spit and lube between a couple of poz bottoms is a great way to spread the seed and its strains. And that is exactly what happened! Some tops started on my ass and then went to work on his, others fucked Dad and then switched over to my ass, giving me a bit of pre-cum, Dad's buttcanal water, cum and whatever else, I'll take it. I got those good, swishy, sloppy sounds after the first couple of injectors...which is great, because the Cockpit crowd is an older, more sophisticated, more experienced crowd...there's plenty of expert fucking but not necessarily a lot of loads. Who wants to cum early and leave early, unless he's got another date? I did feel one top's load, though...not the cum being shot into my ass but his change of pace when he slowed up, thrust his dick only part of the way into my cumbucket and then jolted a two pulse movement, slow and focused. By that time, my big hole which has the internal contours of hills and valleys, gripped that dick and it seemed to rest, momentarily between two ridges of ass magic, as that seed was spewed forth, more of a trickle than a blast...but I felt every swell of his dick. Then my butt muscles milked that boner best I could, before it popped out and the top disappeared into the crowd that had gathered. Neither the top nor I made so much as a grunt, but as he was leaving, I let go with a whisper, 'yeah.'
That was the only load of the night, as far as I could tell...I lost track of how many dicks ventured into my asshole...I always want more. Part of being a pig is that of being insatiable.
Cheap Thrills Dept: The Cockpit Parties are usually Thursday night affairs so it's mostly a hometown crowd, although my friends Kevin and Mike came up from SoCal...and the most notable out-of-towner was Dawson, who had arrived as I was getting ready to leave, around midnight. San Franciscans that we are, we all pretended not to notice, and the super megastar blended into the mass as just another guy lookin' to get laid. Little Trey from TIM's Bone Deep and several HDK videos, was also seen.
An aside: the Power Exchange is slated to move to its new venue at 220 Jones St. which is where the old Campus Theater, home to Scott O'Hara, Jim Bentley, Chris Burns and other greats from the pre-condom era, was located, but now there are problems because the neighbors are complaining. Although this is in the Tenderloin neighborhood, which San Francisco has zoned for this sort of business (to keep the rest of the city free from such dark-sided enterprises), evidently there is a day care center for Vietnamese immigrant children close by, which of course, won't do. So we'll see where this goes. I bring it up because the old Power Exchange on Otis St., where some Cockpit parties were held, works way better for me and other bottom sluts. Having said that, I'm anxious to see what they've done with 220 Jones. I don't think many kiddies are going to be around at midnight and bumping into bareback sluts in heat.
Mack doesn't work well for me because it's mostly about having sex standing up and with your shoes on. There are 3 or 4 sling rooms, a couple of bunks, a bath tub for piss aficionados, and encounter areas on platforms which must be reached by ladders.
Having been here not that long ago (read the January blog post), I went straight to the bunk looking to stake myself some cum dump real estate...but shit, a hot daddy was already there...and he was a big daddy, maybe 6-4 and these guys take up a lot of space. Dad was butt up on all fours, and he did have a gorgeous flawless ass (I guess Dad is about 50) with a little pink (tight?) hole. And he was built(!) but with big shoulders, the tell tale pockmarks of steroid use on his back, a 'Crix' belly and a Viagra-fueled rock hard dick. And dare I say, hopefully...poz. I wedged myself into what space was left, hoping to entice tops into a tag team situation...the comingling of cum, buttjuices, spit and lube between a couple of poz bottoms is a great way to spread the seed and its strains. And that is exactly what happened! Some tops started on my ass and then went to work on his, others fucked Dad and then switched over to my ass, giving me a bit of pre-cum, Dad's buttcanal water, cum and whatever else, I'll take it. I got those good, swishy, sloppy sounds after the first couple of injectors...which is great, because the Cockpit crowd is an older, more sophisticated, more experienced crowd...there's plenty of expert fucking but not necessarily a lot of loads. Who wants to cum early and leave early, unless he's got another date? I did feel one top's load, though...not the cum being shot into my ass but his change of pace when he slowed up, thrust his dick only part of the way into my cumbucket and then jolted a two pulse movement, slow and focused. By that time, my big hole which has the internal contours of hills and valleys, gripped that dick and it seemed to rest, momentarily between two ridges of ass magic, as that seed was spewed forth, more of a trickle than a blast...but I felt every swell of his dick. Then my butt muscles milked that boner best I could, before it popped out and the top disappeared into the crowd that had gathered. Neither the top nor I made so much as a grunt, but as he was leaving, I let go with a whisper, 'yeah.'
That was the only load of the night, as far as I could tell...I lost track of how many dicks ventured into my asshole...I always want more. Part of being a pig is that of being insatiable.
Cheap Thrills Dept: The Cockpit Parties are usually Thursday night affairs so it's mostly a hometown crowd, although my friends Kevin and Mike came up from SoCal...and the most notable out-of-towner was Dawson, who had arrived as I was getting ready to leave, around midnight. San Franciscans that we are, we all pretended not to notice, and the super megastar blended into the mass as just another guy lookin' to get laid. Little Trey from TIM's Bone Deep and several HDK videos, was also seen.
An aside: the Power Exchange is slated to move to its new venue at 220 Jones St. which is where the old Campus Theater, home to Scott O'Hara, Jim Bentley, Chris Burns and other greats from the pre-condom era, was located, but now there are problems because the neighbors are complaining. Although this is in the Tenderloin neighborhood, which San Francisco has zoned for this sort of business (to keep the rest of the city free from such dark-sided enterprises), evidently there is a day care center for Vietnamese immigrant children close by, which of course, won't do. So we'll see where this goes. I bring it up because the old Power Exchange on Otis St., where some Cockpit parties were held, works way better for me and other bottom sluts. Having said that, I'm anxious to see what they've done with 220 Jones. I don't think many kiddies are going to be around at midnight and bumping into bareback sluts in heat.
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