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.

Video Review: JackSin215 on Xtube

I admit to being startled by the swaggering display of bravado so notably demonstrated by JackSin 215 through his videos posted on Xtube.  We have become so numbed by the onslaught of reality crap on cable and elsewhere, so much of it fake and orchestrated, that it is hard to be startled by anything.  There's nothing phony about JackSin215's encounters, nothing staged or rehearsed...his stuff is real...public sex with anonymous bottoms getting jizzed in alleys, cars and public parks.  The late night couplings in public parks are spectacularly arresting with black or latino asses getting fucked on park benches, picnic tables or playground equipment, and to add to the excitement, there are the occasional headlights of passing cars or the rumble of passing trains, only feet away from unlawful raw sex.  And for a change of pace, there is a gangbang included in his collection of videos, filmed in an Orlando hotel, where the totally versatile JackSin 215 shows that he can take as well as he gives.  And there's plenty of cum to satisfy you pigs out there.

Now we are talking amateur stuff here...sometimes there are weird angles or inconsistencies with light, but these shortcomings only add to the raw appeal of the situations.  And yeah, for now the videos are comparatively short, running 2 to 4 minutes, but no matter, it's all good.  So check out JackSin215 on Xtube, and consider sending him gifts or other rewards through the Xtube format, since we'll all want to see more from this promising amateur pornographer.

Bottom's Butt Clamp Makes Top 'Cry Uncle'

There is a thrill for every fisting top as he enters a new fisthole.  I like to feel my way around the asslips first, and caress the tender meat found there.  A well-used hole, like a beautiful flower responding to a blaze of sunlight, opens up and simply swallows a top's probing fingers.  A new tight ass is something different, more of a mystery, I'd say.  We can make a tight ass open up much to the pleasure of the hosting bottom, but it takes work and patience.  A dedicated receptive bottom not only works with his top, but actually takes the lead.  Last night's session with a new fisthole was gradual, and challenging requiring concentration, but in the end, it was a very satisfying success.  After a long while of holding my fist in place while my fingers danced in his hole...I commanded him to take a long hit of poppers...then a deep breath...and my right wrist finally slipped completely in.

I love fisting a big man.  No, wait...I love fisting a big man with a big hole.  A big, experienced, well-used hole I can swirl my hands with a bit of artistic flourish while deep in his ass.  A pocket bottom is a different story.  While a pocket bottom - and happily they come in all colors - is a delight to fuck...you can do all kinds of great things like flip them around, and toss 'em like a salad....he has to be fisted differently.  He's best in a sling.  He's good on a ledge or the edge of a bed, though the top will have to crouch down or kneel on the floor...that's OK...but flat on the bed requires some adjustment.  Now, I'm a shorty, too...5-6 they tell me...so we fisted on a flat bed whilst I lay on my back, too, but crossways against the bottom so he could place his legs on my chest or belly, that made it comfortable for him and accessible to me.

Too bad, my fist wasn't all that comfortable, though.  After a prolonged period where we got him comfortable by keeping my fist in place while my fingers did their magical probing, I sensed that his tight ass was getting even tighter...a veritable clamp around my fist, like a vise applying enough pressure that my wrist started to ache.  That's some tight ass, but like I said, we eventually got the hand in as far as the wrist. That was as far as we were gonna get that night.   By then it was getting hard for me to ignore my discomfort, and it's not my style to bark out commands, Nazi-style.  The bottom was eagerly wanking himself, so I asked him, his being new, if he could cum that way and he said yes, so I say, go ahead and cum...which he did.

My current niche as a fisttop seems to be breaking in newbies or guys who want to explore their limits through a gentle hand.  I'm looking forward to taking this dude to the next step.  And any other interested dude out there, for that matter.  I'm getting to love that tight ass that makes me Cry Uncle.

Poz Daddy's Freshly Fucked Hole

Billy's freshly fucked hole

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.

Fisting a Poz Businessman in the Afternoon

I'm guessing that travelling salesmen have earned their place in the American sexual consciousness through the simplest of ways...by being available. These guys have also been characterized in various media, like books...movies, certainly...as being unattached in a new town...horny as hell...and an easy hookup...good for a quick suck, fuck...and then never seen again. True, maybe, unless you're part of the fisting brotherhood. A good fist is hard to find. Once found, a bottom can only want more of it. I think I connected with this traveler through Asspig. Yeah, Asspig.com. A hot bottom taking fist at a local Holiday Inn, obviously a business guest and posting in the middle of the afternoon. You know, you just can't decide you want to get fisted. Being a fisting bottom requires preparation, and sometimes preparation becomes a long and involved process; of course I'm writing about cleaning out. So when a man goes through the effort of cleaning out for taking fist, he doesn't want to let all that go to waste. So you post on Asspig and hope for the best. When I'm feeling up to fisting, I'll post on Asspig; but most of the time the avaiable bottoms are in Keokuk, Iowa or Binghampton, New York and here I am in San Francisco. But occasionally, things do work out. Imagine my delight to find a travelling businessman holed up in the Holiday Inn, conveniently just off Market St. and ready to go for RIGHT NOW. And oh, by the way, it's about two in the afternoon. It takes me a while to park my car in a safe (read meter maids, not break-ins) spot and take the street car to the Holiday Inn, but once there, we enjoyed a great session; he knows what he's doing, he's experienced and testing his limits, he wants me to probe more, he has fine interior buttchitecture. What's not to like? We give him a good time and he's appreciative since he's had at least one flake already, and a third guy does show up but he's not as commanding as I am and soon leaves, feeling a bit like a third wheel, so he never gets that guy's fist. I call the session out after about 90 mins., that's long enough for a break, but this guy is expecting somebody else later so I bid my leave, and hope I'm leaving him in good hands. Postscript: We buddylist each other and hope to meet up in his home town, a few hundred miles down the coast...I'll be there in April and hope to report on another great meeting. He gave me his Barebackrt handle and I checked him out, and he's poz...something we didn't discuss before I barefisted him. So much the better...travelling salesmen can sometimes be seen again.

Poz Bottom Gets Fisted With His Own Cum

On a quiet, well-tended suburban street of neat, substantial houses in Southern California, a man is getting fisted in the middle of the afternoon. This appointment was arranged online through a popular website...a pretty ordinary means of getting laid, or in this case, fisted. I'm the fisting top and I love daytime sessions on a weekday because it usually indicates that both top and bottom are at leisure to play when it suits them. This hook-up is especially nice because it involves my first redhead...ever. Well, a blondish reddish sort of lean tiger with zero body fat and a stiff crewcut...basically, a novelty of the best sort, enhanced by a genial personality. And oh yeah, it gets better thanks to a nicely shaped dick that looks like a mouth watering plump pink pork sausage. So in this suburban setting, the session starts with my getting thoroughly porked and taking a very generous juicy poz load. That's good for a start. My part of the bargain is to stuff this lean mean fisthole with my very talented hands. At first glance the hole looks rather small but this guy is an experienced bottom...I mean, I noticed him a long time ago and buddylisted him and I've been tracking him like a bloodhound ever since. When I saw him online, I hit him up, but whatever his history, it still looks like a pretty small tight hole. Looks are often deceiving. This talented fistchute took my hand easily, one deep breath and I was in like an oiled slippery slide and I did the old five finger exercise hitting his interesting combination of deep corners. But while this was going on, I detected the unmistakeable aroma of cum. His cum. My ass. As I squatted to get a better fisting angle, I felt by buttlips quiver like they wanted to dump, so I quickly cupped my free palm under my hole to catch whatever might come out. What I got was the big fat load of poz cum that he had shot up my ass. This was just too good to pass off lightly. I withdrew my other hand and lubed both hands with him cum, and after asking him politely if I could fist him with his own cum, that's exactly what I did. This was a very satisfying accessory to the action, and one I wish would happen all the time. I had to ask him first, though. To get his permission. After all, there is an etiquette to fisting. And the first rule is mutual respect. Ah, like I didn't know he'd say yes. Thanks, my man, for a great suburban afternoon session, cum and all.