Down in the desert a couple of weekends ago, I couldn't pass up the chance to hit pspigslut's bareback party on the north end of town. Now I've seen pornstars there before but usually I don't give out names unless I know the guy personally and know that he would be all right with my blogging about it. I hadn't met Cameron before although I knew and admired his work which goes back a few years now, mostly as a bottom with his partner Tony DeAngelo. Their website Bareback Masters has been a fixture on the bareback video scene for years, and as far as I know, is the only porn studio working out of Pismo Beach, an unpretentious little California beach town on the central coast about half-way between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Pismo is the way Newport Beach must have been in the 1950's. Both guys are openly poz barebackers and their stable of models reflects their catholic taste in men...there are some big name stars and starlets ready to break out, all hot. There's a lot of toxic jism streaming at Bareback Masters.
The party in Palm Springs was the first one with decent enough weather for nightime outside play, but nobody was outside...so that made for a lot of close-in communal activity. I was getting my share of dick, but I was waiting for a particular top who had RSVP'd on the Barebackrt party list, since he had fucked me before and I like his schtick: white trailer trash longhair motorcycle top slut who fucks anything that moves. He happens to be a very nice guy. One time we were talking about his plans to complete a Craigslist hookup at the local Motel 6, and he could put all his sentences together, and he sounded like a considerate type. But I like his biker shit and wanted that poz dick up my butt in a very bad way.
Cameron showed up a little late and I recognized him right away. He was getting a lot of dick and doing some topping, too. I went up and introduced myself, told him what a fan I was. Note: Cam is much handsomer in person and his personality comes across as it does not on video. Of course, he doesn't say much in his videos: he leaves the communicating to his magnificent butthole...check out the website for a good look. He also looks somewhat thinner, as the camera does make you look thicker or heavier, but in person Cameron Cruise is a slim, hot sex machine. We chatted for a bit and then split up; after all this was a sex party.
From the sexpad, I could see the undressing room, and noticed the cycle slut had arrived finally...way later than usual, and it's getting past my bedtime. He usually doesn't take much off, and adheres pretty much to the leather code, always keeps his hat and boots on. So here I was, hoping to take that white trash schlong up my shithole, when the dude takes one look at Cam and he's off in Cam's direction, where I concluded he'd take his time and not be interested in anybody else after fucking some Cameron Cruise ass. That was when I just bagged it, hoping that Cam wouldn't make it to the next party. Like I said, it was way past my bedtime.
Showing posts with label Barebackrt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barebackrt. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Popular Gay Barebacker Dies, A Suicide at Golden Gate Bridge
I met Jonathan Klein through a barebackrt hookup. At the time, he was still living in a rather large nondescript wood frame house at the end of the Castro streetcar line. He was hosting, but by the time I got there, he wasn't up to sex. Now I have been refused by the host a couple of times in my bareback career, but never before in such a gracious manner. Jonathan had changed his mind about sex...at least about sex with me...but he offered me a soda and we had an engaging chat in his kitchen. He's a slightly burly, bearish guy, and he was dressed in a filled out tee, sweatpants and socks. He couldn't have been nicer and I really wanted him to fuck me because I had already watched him in action. I recognized him as soon as I saw him in person, after a slight inkling based on his profile headshot.
Erich Lange filmed Jonathan fucking Max Holden in the Treasure Island Media video, 'Fucking Crazy' a few years back. 'Fucking Crazy' was actually a documentation of an erstwhile San Francisco gangbang phenomenon, the Cute Boy Bareback Party. If you don't know this video, check it out and the format of the CuteBoy will be explained to you. Jonathan was a regular at these parties, I think, stuffing his pozdick up the asses of some of the legendary bottoms of our time: Jeff Palmer, Sean Storm, Rob Rodin, Max Holden among them.
Then I was walking up 18th St. in the Castro one day and passed maybe the last, full-service old school travel agency in the whole world: Now Voyager Travel (the title taken from the famous Bette Davis movie) and there sat Jonathan at his computer, providing the personal service for which he was well known. I had occasion to pass Now Voyager many times since, and just about every time Jonathan was there, working his ass off for his loyal clients. It follows that he was well-known in the gay business community and well beyond Castro Village. And of course, I wasn't the only guy who met him through barebackrt.
It turns out that the building has been sold recently and the future of Now Voyager uncertain. Jonathan had also recently taken a buyout for his Castro apartment (rather than fight an eviction) and had moved to Bernal Heights, a desirable rustic cottagey hill neighborhood a bit removed from the gayness of the Castro. He had turned 60, and he was poz, two factors which the local gaypaper Bay Area Reporter seemed to take as negatives contributing to depression. Alas, suicide is often impulsive and always final. I wish Jonathan had gone online to solicit a hot ass to fuck, rather than to make that last trip to the Golden Gate Bridge. In short, his life didn't have to end this way, despite all these setbacks ganging up on him.
The last time I saw Jonathan was around 2011 at a Jayson Park video shoot at the Playspace on Folsom St. Jonathan was in line to have his turn with Jayson's fine ass. We said 'hi' but not much else, though Jonathan did feel me up nicely. He seemed his old friendly self. I left before Jonathan did, but I assume that Jayson did get some of Jonathan's poz seed planted deep in his ass, but regrettably, I don't recall seeing it in the video, but I could be wrong.
It's always sad when a good men elects to end his life prematurely, and in this case, the world is worse off for his departure. R.I.P., Jonathan.
Erich Lange filmed Jonathan fucking Max Holden in the Treasure Island Media video, 'Fucking Crazy' a few years back. 'Fucking Crazy' was actually a documentation of an erstwhile San Francisco gangbang phenomenon, the Cute Boy Bareback Party. If you don't know this video, check it out and the format of the CuteBoy will be explained to you. Jonathan was a regular at these parties, I think, stuffing his pozdick up the asses of some of the legendary bottoms of our time: Jeff Palmer, Sean Storm, Rob Rodin, Max Holden among them.
Then I was walking up 18th St. in the Castro one day and passed maybe the last, full-service old school travel agency in the whole world: Now Voyager Travel (the title taken from the famous Bette Davis movie) and there sat Jonathan at his computer, providing the personal service for which he was well known. I had occasion to pass Now Voyager many times since, and just about every time Jonathan was there, working his ass off for his loyal clients. It follows that he was well-known in the gay business community and well beyond Castro Village. And of course, I wasn't the only guy who met him through barebackrt.
It turns out that the building has been sold recently and the future of Now Voyager uncertain. Jonathan had also recently taken a buyout for his Castro apartment (rather than fight an eviction) and had moved to Bernal Heights, a desirable rustic cottagey hill neighborhood a bit removed from the gayness of the Castro. He had turned 60, and he was poz, two factors which the local gaypaper Bay Area Reporter seemed to take as negatives contributing to depression. Alas, suicide is often impulsive and always final. I wish Jonathan had gone online to solicit a hot ass to fuck, rather than to make that last trip to the Golden Gate Bridge. In short, his life didn't have to end this way, despite all these setbacks ganging up on him.
The last time I saw Jonathan was around 2011 at a Jayson Park video shoot at the Playspace on Folsom St. Jonathan was in line to have his turn with Jayson's fine ass. We said 'hi' but not much else, though Jonathan did feel me up nicely. He seemed his old friendly self. I left before Jonathan did, but I assume that Jayson did get some of Jonathan's poz seed planted deep in his ass, but regrettably, I don't recall seeing it in the video, but I could be wrong.
It's always sad when a good men elects to end his life prematurely, and in this case, the world is worse off for his departure. R.I.P., Jonathan.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
My Fuck Motel : Cheap Ass Hollywood Fucking - Part One
Men, I spent a fabulous couple of days in gay Loz Angeleez, and now that it's over, I can say that I feel completely qualified for the lower rungs of those many levels of Hell. I was pretty trashy trolling for sex online, getting fucked at all hours by people I don't even fuckin' know. Yeah, it was great.
Sex does come with real estate. I don't dig sex in alleys, by garbage dumpsters, in cars or in public places. Those are all great areas for pissin' but no, I really don't like having sex with my clothes on.
But for my last trip to LA, I found a great motel on Sunset Blvd. with a parking space just a few feet...literally...from my door, and without the officious, uptight security that sometimes turns into a cock withering dealbreaker. And no, it isn't the fabled Dunes, which has become famous for anonymous pump and dumps among horny Angelenos. The Dunes will cost about $125 for a room, and my place goes for half that.
But hot real estate doesn't make for a sure thing. Of course I went online...complimentary wi-fi, thank you...to my favorite hookup site Barebackrt, and got the usual mix of hot prospects, bullshitters, timewasters and Chatty Matties. LA is awash in bullshit, but you knew that already. Now mind you, this was a business trip, so I had to plan around business affairs, but the convenience of My Fuck Motel meant I didn't have to waste hours on LA's notorious freeways. I spent way too much time trying to connect with this hot black daddy, and I actually thought it was a no-go, but more on that later. For most of the night, I just wrote him off...he was texting me too much, a true sign of a chronic and habitual bullshit artist.
Finally, out of nowhere, I connected with a very tall youngish poz daddy on his way to work. My set up was on the first floor, street level, and I was able to leave the door open a crack, and it was basically anonymous, although we had communicated online. He was dressed for work. I was on the bed on all fours, feeling spectacularly slutty after a night of tease. What I got was a steady, measured, efficient fuck lasting about 5 minutes and resulting with a hot poz load deposited deep in my butthole. I use the word 'efficient' and that's not a sexy word...but I do mean this guy knew how to fuck and get off, and that's what these anonymous online hookups are all about. I was maybe a little disappointed when he first stripped and exposed his relaxed toolkit, but with a little bit of oral action, we got him up and ready. My butt really loved this dick...it was the just right length and thickness for a pleasurable wake up call. And when I say 'efficient,' well that was it to the very end. When finished, he zipped up and was out of there, but not before remarking he'd like to meet up again, and maybe with some of his friends. Ah, well, yeah, hell yeah...but who knows. But for now, it was just what I needed. But the day wasn't over...there's ,more with Part Two.
Sex does come with real estate. I don't dig sex in alleys, by garbage dumpsters, in cars or in public places. Those are all great areas for pissin' but no, I really don't like having sex with my clothes on.
But for my last trip to LA, I found a great motel on Sunset Blvd. with a parking space just a few feet...literally...from my door, and without the officious, uptight security that sometimes turns into a cock withering dealbreaker. And no, it isn't the fabled Dunes, which has become famous for anonymous pump and dumps among horny Angelenos. The Dunes will cost about $125 for a room, and my place goes for half that.
But hot real estate doesn't make for a sure thing. Of course I went online...complimentary wi-fi, thank you...to my favorite hookup site Barebackrt, and got the usual mix of hot prospects, bullshitters, timewasters and Chatty Matties. LA is awash in bullshit, but you knew that already. Now mind you, this was a business trip, so I had to plan around business affairs, but the convenience of My Fuck Motel meant I didn't have to waste hours on LA's notorious freeways. I spent way too much time trying to connect with this hot black daddy, and I actually thought it was a no-go, but more on that later. For most of the night, I just wrote him off...he was texting me too much, a true sign of a chronic and habitual bullshit artist.
Finally, out of nowhere, I connected with a very tall youngish poz daddy on his way to work. My set up was on the first floor, street level, and I was able to leave the door open a crack, and it was basically anonymous, although we had communicated online. He was dressed for work. I was on the bed on all fours, feeling spectacularly slutty after a night of tease. What I got was a steady, measured, efficient fuck lasting about 5 minutes and resulting with a hot poz load deposited deep in my butthole. I use the word 'efficient' and that's not a sexy word...but I do mean this guy knew how to fuck and get off, and that's what these anonymous online hookups are all about. I was maybe a little disappointed when he first stripped and exposed his relaxed toolkit, but with a little bit of oral action, we got him up and ready. My butt really loved this dick...it was the just right length and thickness for a pleasurable wake up call. And when I say 'efficient,' well that was it to the very end. When finished, he zipped up and was out of there, but not before remarking he'd like to meet up again, and maybe with some of his friends. Ah, well, yeah, hell yeah...but who knows. But for now, it was just what I needed. But the day wasn't over...there's ,more with Part Two.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
The Breeding of Jayson Park - Review
At the conclusion of the video 'Sex Life/LA 2,' pornstar Damian Ford muses (with a lollipop in his mouth and his hand at the wheel of his SUV) about what qualifies one as a pornstar...one movie, Damian concludes. Right you are, Damian. And video means you can live forever, if you've had the chance to play on video. By that rule, yours truly qualifies as a pornstar...I was in 'Dungeon Fist Party' and 'Dungeon Fuck Party,' where I took Steve Wiley's load and got fucked by the legendary Will West who made me shoot an impressive load and then made me eat it, with his own artful flourishes,wiping my sweat with my leather cap and throwing it derisively on the fuckbench...it was all Will, as Ray Butler didn't tell us what to do. A true gentleman, offscreen Will apologized to me for not cumming up my ass!
But this installment is not about me. It's about the real, true pornstars, where the standard is higher than the Old Hollywood standard...that being, your name over the title. In porn, you are a megastar if you have a dvd titled with your own name. The hardest-working bottoms in the business right now...all qualify. Ian Jay, Sage Daniels and Dominik Rider have all starred in their own gangbang videos with their names as part of the titles. But this honor had eluded maybe the hardest-working porn bottom of them all...Jayson Park. Until now.
I was at the Playspace on Folsom St. when Barebackrt's 'The Breeding of Jayson Park' was filmed and I admit right now that I didn't like the set-up; all the action was limited to a tiny platform. But not to worry. Jayson shines in this one, taking one anonymous load after another...the tops are not named, but I recognized at least one from my personal sex life. Such helps with the fantasy.
Jayson is not only a great bottom, but he's fun to watch getting fucked...here's a man who really loves his work. Don't you hate those bottoms who whine, whimper, or grimace or the worst crime of all: talk too much? Shut up when I'm fucking you, is what they need to hear. The worst of all: the bottom who sings when he's getting plowed, like the queen I was trying to fuck in a Portland Oregon bath house years ago. A Cyndi Lauper tune is not on the gay erotica short list.
Well, Jayson doesn't sing...but you will hear some dirty talk, and the sleazy sounds of cum being slushed around.
This video might be hard to find in the hinterlands, so go to the bbrts website.
But this installment is not about me. It's about the real, true pornstars, where the standard is higher than the Old Hollywood standard...that being, your name over the title. In porn, you are a megastar if you have a dvd titled with your own name. The hardest-working bottoms in the business right now...all qualify. Ian Jay, Sage Daniels and Dominik Rider have all starred in their own gangbang videos with their names as part of the titles. But this honor had eluded maybe the hardest-working porn bottom of them all...Jayson Park. Until now.
I was at the Playspace on Folsom St. when Barebackrt's 'The Breeding of Jayson Park' was filmed and I admit right now that I didn't like the set-up; all the action was limited to a tiny platform. But not to worry. Jayson shines in this one, taking one anonymous load after another...the tops are not named, but I recognized at least one from my personal sex life. Such helps with the fantasy.
Jayson is not only a great bottom, but he's fun to watch getting fucked...here's a man who really loves his work. Don't you hate those bottoms who whine, whimper, or grimace or the worst crime of all: talk too much? Shut up when I'm fucking you, is what they need to hear. The worst of all: the bottom who sings when he's getting plowed, like the queen I was trying to fuck in a Portland Oregon bath house years ago. A Cyndi Lauper tune is not on the gay erotica short list.
Well, Jayson doesn't sing...but you will hear some dirty talk, and the sleazy sounds of cum being slushed around.
This video might be hard to find in the hinterlands, so go to the bbrts website.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
