Well, I got my lines crossed and showed up at Mack for a non-existent Cockpit Party last Saturday night. I had planned to fuck my brains out, get tested for STDs, go home and lay off sex until the results come in...a week or so. There was no party...I obviously messed up on the date...but the guys from the City Health Clinic were there and eventually we went through the testing routine. There wasn't much going on at Mack besides the other couple of guys getting tested, a couple of trolls lingering in the shadows and a single silver daddy decked out in full leather gear. Leather daddy and I connected (there was nothing else goin') mostly because his dick, long and slender, was sticking out, viagra-fueled and ready to go. I immediately went down on him and confirmed the readiness of fuckstick, and before too long, I was on the bench taking his prod delivered in forceful, steady strokes. One of my peeves about Mack is that it's uncomfortable if you're 'nekkid'...it's a place to have sex with your clothes on. So while my butthole was getting worked over in a very superior way, my knees on the bench were annoyingly on my mind. I moved the action to the sling where dad fucked my ass nice and rough, with a constant pounding, he could keep goin' at length, without losing a beat...his dick was just right for my ass...it was long but not thick, and it was rockhard the whole time. I love slings but I wanted to get the feel of his fuckstick up my ass doggystyle....so I took him to the bunks upstairs and let him fuck me again, and again, but then I had to call it quits, since my appointment for my test was promptly at 930.
When I told him why we had to take a break, he responded, 'Well, I'm negative in every way.'
That earned him a second round of fucking after the STD test. I believe him, he's a mature guy who wears glasses and with a full head of white hair, maybe prematurely so but I doubt it. And this very good fuck did wrap up what could have been a disastrously dull night. If the tests turn up anything, then I'll have to go on a medication sabattical which means this might be the conclusion of my sex life for this year. Leather daddy says that he doesn't use the websites to hook up...his sex life revolves around Mack, especially on Tuesdays, which is Leather Night. Well, this might be a bit of useful information, especially if he's there. My attitude regarding Mack remains the same: SF needs better, and it's mostly about design and layout...the staff there, the music, the services have always been great. So, thanks for a good fuck at Mack...but not sure about the next time.
Showing posts with label Mack SF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mack SF. Show all posts
Monday, December 13, 2010
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.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Mack SF...Valley of the Trolls?
This documentary is not a review of Mack, but rather what transpired during my visit there last Saturday. First off, Mack is well-managed with the best music I ever heard in a sex club and a campy, generous front desk staff...I got a discount for being a veteran. The last time I was there was before the remodel...my fuck buddy Craig and I needed a place to fist...he had already fucked my ass in his room at the Holiday Inn and I wanted to return the favor by fisting his hot hole (we had met at one of Tom Fister's parties in the Castro) and we both preferred a sling rather than a bed or the floor. I bare fisted Craig's big hole at the Mack that night and there wasn't much else going on at the time (I've forgotten what night of the week it was) and we drew a curious crowd, such as it was. I thought that Mack was OK and a place with some potential if one bottom wanted to get his butt plowed, and the atmosphere was bareback-friendly.
I checked in around midnight and there wasn't much happening, although attendance built up steadily through the evening. The next thing: I was about the hottest man there, and that's not a boast, but should you give you an idea of what the other guys looked like (check out my profile, pics on barebackrt, I am not a little twink despite identifying as a boi), and being the hottest man in the room doesn't necessarily mean you're gonna get a rush...a lot of guys tend to get intimidated by you and then they fear rejection. That's too bad, because I would have gladly hosted any dick that wanted in. But...on that night, I don't think there were many guys there to fuck...they were there to watch. Some guys didn't even bother to strip...they trolled around in street clothes...not much interest in fetish wear...one guy actually wore a business suit (!), stalking around like a bored Episcopal priest. Not a few guys could have used a cane or even a walker. Yes, men...in this esteemed sex club, there were guys teetering around, about to keel over at any moment, or to skid down one of the ladders that led to and from the cages and bunks built on the tower platforms. How sexy is all of this?
If there was the slightest hint of action, these doddering trolls would rush..as best as they could...to gather around and get a good view.
I staked out a place on top of one of the towers, slipped off my jock and stuck my butt up and out, obviously looking to get fucked. Nothing happened...but I was patiently waiting for the bars to close and for the storming of a herd of hot men from the Powerhouse and Chaps. It didn't happen...there was no flood of fresh hot blood. Just a few more trolls...by 3 a.m., the place was fairly crowded but with very little action...just looky-loos trolling around...and of course the computers were all in use. I had the platform pretty much to myself until an unremarkable couple climbed up and settled into an extenuated, boring suckathon. Then a very young latino with absolutely no muscular definition tried to mount an ugly troll wearing glasses...the troll, not the kid. That animal act went on for about five minutes...and that was it for a while. 4 a.m., 5 a.m....finally the kid returned and tried to fuck me. He started to stick his fingers up my hole, but in a crude way that told me he didn't know what he was doing...this was just something he saw in a video. But, he's just a kid, and it's my job to teach him something. His cock was not particularly big, but like with all young kids, it was rock hard. I'm on my belly and he's messing around back there...I didn't what in the hell was doing, so I finally reached back and guided that hard little rod into my twitching, eager hole...ah shit, he's wearing a condom...well, he's the top and it's his call and he's right to take care of himself...the fuck wasn't the best, figure he's still figuring it out (maybe he's straight?! who knows or cares?), and I guess it was better than nothing, but let's hope he figures it out before too long.
Check out for me was 6 a.m. and it was time to give it up. Gathering my shit, I realized that the kid had taken my old bottle of Fist by mistake and left me with his new bottle of Jungle Juice Premium. The kid was long gone by then so I took the Jungle Juice home...Mack had not been a complete waste of time, then...and better than staying home.
Mack could be so hot, and maybe on a different night, it would have been better...but for now, I think I've gotten Mack out of my system.
I checked in around midnight and there wasn't much happening, although attendance built up steadily through the evening. The next thing: I was about the hottest man there, and that's not a boast, but should you give you an idea of what the other guys looked like (check out my profile, pics on barebackrt, I am not a little twink despite identifying as a boi), and being the hottest man in the room doesn't necessarily mean you're gonna get a rush...a lot of guys tend to get intimidated by you and then they fear rejection. That's too bad, because I would have gladly hosted any dick that wanted in. But...on that night, I don't think there were many guys there to fuck...they were there to watch. Some guys didn't even bother to strip...they trolled around in street clothes...not much interest in fetish wear...one guy actually wore a business suit (!), stalking around like a bored Episcopal priest. Not a few guys could have used a cane or even a walker. Yes, men...in this esteemed sex club, there were guys teetering around, about to keel over at any moment, or to skid down one of the ladders that led to and from the cages and bunks built on the tower platforms. How sexy is all of this?
If there was the slightest hint of action, these doddering trolls would rush..as best as they could...to gather around and get a good view.
I staked out a place on top of one of the towers, slipped off my jock and stuck my butt up and out, obviously looking to get fucked. Nothing happened...but I was patiently waiting for the bars to close and for the storming of a herd of hot men from the Powerhouse and Chaps. It didn't happen...there was no flood of fresh hot blood. Just a few more trolls...by 3 a.m., the place was fairly crowded but with very little action...just looky-loos trolling around...and of course the computers were all in use. I had the platform pretty much to myself until an unremarkable couple climbed up and settled into an extenuated, boring suckathon. Then a very young latino with absolutely no muscular definition tried to mount an ugly troll wearing glasses...the troll, not the kid. That animal act went on for about five minutes...and that was it for a while. 4 a.m., 5 a.m....finally the kid returned and tried to fuck me. He started to stick his fingers up my hole, but in a crude way that told me he didn't know what he was doing...this was just something he saw in a video. But, he's just a kid, and it's my job to teach him something. His cock was not particularly big, but like with all young kids, it was rock hard. I'm on my belly and he's messing around back there...I didn't what in the hell was doing, so I finally reached back and guided that hard little rod into my twitching, eager hole...ah shit, he's wearing a condom...well, he's the top and it's his call and he's right to take care of himself...the fuck wasn't the best, figure he's still figuring it out (maybe he's straight?! who knows or cares?), and I guess it was better than nothing, but let's hope he figures it out before too long.
Check out for me was 6 a.m. and it was time to give it up. Gathering my shit, I realized that the kid had taken my old bottle of Fist by mistake and left me with his new bottle of Jungle Juice Premium. The kid was long gone by then so I took the Jungle Juice home...Mack had not been a complete waste of time, then...and better than staying home.
Mack could be so hot, and maybe on a different night, it would have been better...but for now, I think I've gotten Mack out of my system.
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