I've been in a weird funk all weekend.  I think it might have started with a dream I had on Friday night.  I don't remember all of the dream, but a couple of points really stand out.  I was riding in a car, an black SUV, with about 4 guys.  I was in the back seat sitting behind the driver.  I think, maybe, the driver was a guy that I work with.  He's older than me, but he's what I would call the typical chauvinistic male.  He has no problem make dick jokes, even go as far as make jokes about guys blowing one another to get what they want.  I've even seen him make other guys in the room blush. So, he's driving.  And there's a younger guy in the front passenger seat.  I knew him in the dream, but now that I am awake I have no idea who he was.

There's another guy sitting in the back with me.  He's one hell of a dreamy, sexy specimen.  He's in his twenties.  I think at the start of the dream, he was fully clothed.  But at some point he lost his shirt.  He had short hair, immaculately styled.  He was muscular, but not overdone.  He was smooth, on his face and on his chest. He had dark hair, blue eyes, perfect lips.

Anyways.  I'm not looking much at the guy next to me.  I don't know if it was because I didn't want to be too obvious, or if I was distracted by something else.  The front seat passenger kept making jokes, and bouncing around in his seat.  At one point, I look in his direction, and I can't understand what I'm looking at.  The driver, the coworker, starts laughing and makes a gesture like he's about to grab the passenger's crotch.  I still don't understand what I'm seeing, but I hear the driver say something like, "If a woman sitting next to me did that, I "accidentally" slip my hand right here.  I'm mean, she'd almost be asking for it."  Again, I notice that the driver makes a motion like he's grabbing the passenger's crotch, but I can't see the passenger's crotch.  I sit up straight, and try to see more of what's going on.  I see what look's like a huge lump between the guy's legs.  But it's not a lump that I can identify.  I lean forward a little more, and I realize that the guy is in his seat upside down!  What I thought was his crotch was his shoulders, and the lump was his neck.  He head was so far back, that it disappeared from my view.

It made sense, but then it didn't.  Why had this guy turned himself upside down?  His legs were bent in a way that they were entirely hidden by the seatback.  I leaned in further, and he pushed his hips into the air.  That's when I realized that he'd lost his pants, and his cock was rock hard and pointing downwards toward his head.  I blushed slightly, and sat back in my seat.  I didn't want to be obvious, but this guy's cock had caused an immediate reaction in my own cock.

I tried my damnedest to not look "too" interested.  The driver is still make jokes and laughing.  I could have sworn that the driver grabbed the passenger's cock, but that may have just been my overactive imagination. I relaxed into my seat, and noticed that the guy sitting next to me was looking at me.  I looked in his direction, and saw nothing but desire in his face.  I didn't want to believe, and I felt like all of this could be a trap.  But he inched his way a little closer to me.  I saw hesitation in his face as well, like maybe he wasn't sure that I was going to respond the way he hoped.

He had to be one of the most sexy, handsome, young men I'd ever laid my eyes on.  He inched a little closer, and put his hand on my thigh.  I was nervous, and I didn't want to get caught.  But lust took over, and my face surely told him that I wanted him badly.  He leaned over, opened his mouth slightly, and our tongues met before our lips.  My body exploded.  This is where I realized that he's shirtless, and I put my hand on his chest.  I can feel the clearly defined pecs, I find and slightly pinch his nipples, I rub my hand up to his shoulders.  All the while, our tongues are having a bit of foreplay on their own.

Then I start to get worried that the guys in the front seat are going to look back and see us.  So, I push him back away from me, but slowly.  I imagined that his hand was on my crotch, confirming my attraction.  I also imagined that he had my cock bare in his hands.  But I pushed him off.  I was thinking that I didn't really care if I got caught.  A guy as sexy as this, surely anyone would forgive me.  But, still, I pushed him off.

The dream shifted then, and it never got back to that scene.  After I woke up, I could still taste him on my tongue, feel his chest in my hand.  I couldn't remember exactly what he looked like, but the parts of the dream that mattered are still extremely real and vivid in my mind.  Even now, two days later.  All day Saturday, I would constantly allow myself to daydream and replay out the scene in my mind.

I think the dream was partially to blame for the funk that I find myself in now.

The Hot Tubs

It would be more than a month before Slut Phase Victim #5 came into the picture.  In that time, I've hooked up with Victim #3 a couple of times.  I didn't give him a name in my last post, let's call him Nate.  My first time with Nate was the all-nighter in a hotel room on an out-of-town trip.  My second time was a blow job in my office late at night the following week.  Then we decided to get together at a local hot tub place in a city near us.  We made plans to both leave early for work one afternoon and meet up at this place, which would give us a good hour, hour and a half of fun.

The particular establishment was one of the more skeevy places that I've been too.  I didn't expect a whole lot, and it doesn't look like a whole lot from the outside.  When I first saw it, months ago, I assumed that prostitutes were hanging out in the parking lot out front.  When Nate and I were first making plans, he mentioned another place in another town that seemed much more upscale.  Ultimately, we decided against the "nicer" place because it required a reservation, and my schedule was too tenuous.  So, we opted for the less "reputable" place.


It actually wasn't that bad.  It was just old and run down.  I'm sure there are all kinds of dealings that go on there that I don't want to know about, but Nate and I didn't get a sense that any of that stuff was happening. At least, not while we were there.  The hot tub itself was nice, hot, and seemed clean.  The room also came with a bed, a sauna, and a shower.  We learned quickly that it gets way too hot in those rooms, to the point that we were both feeling a bit lightheaded.  But we enjoyed the tub, making small talk for a bit then getting into some kissing and cuddling.

It wasn't long before I had his cock in my mouth.  The heat was definitely getting to him, because he couldn't get completely hard.  But I didn't let that deter me any bit.  I sucked on his semi-hard cock for what seemed like 15 or 20 minutes.  (It was probably only 5)  Then I pulled myself out of the tub and presented my cock to be sucked by him.  I enjoyed his mouth and tongue for a few minutes, then I left the tub area and pulled him over to the bed.  We laid down, locked tongues, and began to grind our groins into each other.  I knew from our first encounter that he loves to slide his cock in between my ass cheeks, so after a few minutes I turned over onto my stomach.  He took the hint and laid down on top of me.  I enjoyed having the weight on me.  I also enjoyed the feeling of his cock sliding across my hole.  At one point, I was sure that there was penetration, but I figured out quickly that it was just additional pressure against my sphincter.  I pushed back against it, and he was getting intense with his grinding.


We kept that up for a few minutes until I he began to whimper, then eventually yell out as I felt his cum all over my backside.  I reached back and scooped up what I could, and used it as lube as I began to stroke my now throbbing cock.  He watched, I think he may have even sucked on one of my balls.  I was cumming within a few minutes, and as soon as I did his mouth was on my cock sucking it all up.

Then we both collapsed.

After a nap, which felt like hours but I know was only a few minutes, we managed to collect ourselves and start the clean up process.  We both took showers, dried off as best we could in the damp hot room, and got dressed.  Once we felt like we were put together well enough, we exited.  I said my goodbyes in the parking lot.  All in all, I'd say it was a good experience, despite the seediness of the establishment.  We actually met up there one other time since, which I will tell you about later.

3rd Anniversary

It's somewhat fitting, I just passed 200K pageviews, and last month was the 3rd anniversary of my blog. I don't know if 200K is a lot in the grand scheme of things. But, a whole hell of a lot has changed since my very first post. With each post, each comment, and each visitor I've learned a little bit more about myself. I've gotten a little bit more confident with myself. I believe guys now, when they tell me that I'm handsome, or that I'm hot. On a hookup with someone new, my heart manages to remain in my chest instead of trying to escape through my throat. I can actually take the lead in a new encounter, instead of sheepishly waiting for instructions. I've learned that I'm very oral. I simply love to suck cock, and to have my cock sucked. I've learned that I am very good at compartmentalizing the different aspects of my life. I know longer worry about slipping up and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

I've learned that it is not always so simple to determine whether you are a top, or a bottom. Honestly, I can't decide if I liked either. I've bottomed, I can't say that it was a pleasurable experience. There must have been something about it though, because I couldn't stop thinking about it and I couldn't resist getting him to do it again. I even worried for a bit, like AMtop did, that perhaps I'm a bit more of a bottom than a top.  Today, I couldn't honestly tell you why I worried.  I guess the image of me as a bottom didn't fit my preconceived notions of who I was.  I really couldn't get it out of my head, and I started thinking about how much I like to

look at cocks, but I've never liked looking at asses.  I started thinking about how I might really like the idea of cocks, and cocks penetrating me, more than the idea of me penetrating someone else.  But in the end, I decided that it didn't matter.  I set out to try it all.  If I enjoy bottoming, so be it, that's something new I didn't know about myself.  I've topped, obviously sliding my dick into a warm, wet, tight hole feels good. But better than a mouth? I'm not sure. I suspect that the guys who shared these experiences with me have something to do with it. Perhaps if I were with a more experienced top, or if his cock was a better fit for my ass, I would have enjoyed that experience more. Perhaps, if I weren't bent over my desk in my office at 10 o'clock at night.

I know, everyone knows, that I enjoyed the first time I topped. It's the only one of my experiences with fucking that I have written about so far. Saying that I topped isn't even very descriptive of what actually happened. I was not in control, I was on my back, and before I knew if the guy was sliding my raw cock into his ass. I came within a few strokes, though I struggled to not cum and ended up ruining my orgasm. The second time I actually successfully penetrated another guys ass (not the second time I tried), I guess I was nervous. I was more focused on why my cock would stay hard that I was on enjoying the sensation.

Aside from the parts of my life that I've described in detail here, the rest of my life has changed dramatically as well.  I would say that it was all for the better.  I'm living in a new city, I have a new job, and new addition to my family.  Some of the drama that was in my life when this all began has ended, replaced by new drama. Although, on the whole, my life is pretty drama free.

There is a good chance, a very strong chance, that I will regret all of this one day.  As I've always said, I'm not proud of the choices I've made, but I do feel that they were the best choices for me.  I don't know what the future holds.  Will I continue down this road I'm on?  Will I decide that I don't need these kind of hooks up anymore?  Will I figure out a way to live my life more in the open?  Will I screw the whole thing up?  Who knows?

Slut Phase Victim #4: Tall Sexy Guy

This happened a few months ago. That's how far behind I am in updating all of you on the exploits of my slut phase. If it's any consolation, I've thought an awful lot about writing this, and many other, posts. For some reason, I've been struggling with a lack of motivation. I really don't understand, because for once I have a lot to write about, and I love sharing with all of you.

Anyways, as I've mentioned in previous posts this year, I have slipped deep into a slut phase. My recent anon-blowjob in a park is plenty of evidence of the debauchery that I've allowed into my life. I wanted to tell you about Slut Phase Victim #4, Darren. What I loved most about Darren is his height. He's the first man I've gotten close to, who is actually taller than I am. What a kick it was to walk up close to a man, start kissing him on the lips, with actually tilting my head upwards instead of the usual downward angle I am forced to take. Our chests met, our pelvis met, I could put my hands on his ass without hunching over. And, when his cock started to stir, it was pressed up against my own cock. What a thrill!

I'd found him on Growlr a couple of week earlier, and I laughed when I read his height and the note just below it, which read, "No, my height is not a typo". I laughed, because invariable one of the first questions I get on these type of social apps is, "Are you really [that tall]?".

I did mention that I was tall, right? No, I won't say exactly how tall, that's part of my anonymity.

Anyways, I sent him a message, with some joke in reference to his height. Something lame like the jokes I used to get all the time, "How's the weather up there". He laughed, assumedly after he realized the irony of me asking. We chatted for a second, and went on with our lives. Over the next couple of weeks, we chatted once or twice more. You know, the usual chats like, "When are you gonna come over and suck my cock?".

Anyways, I was at a meeting that was keeping out of the house till late at night. I wasn't particularly enjoying this meeting. When I noticed that Darren was online, I started messaging him to pass the time. I learned that he was available at that very moment. My meeting was in another town, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. I could slip out of the meeting, drive the 30 or so minutes to his house which was sort of, kind of on my way home, and still make it home afterwards at a semi-excusable time. So I set it up on was shortly on my way.

He lived in condo building, so I messaged him when I was on the street and he met me outside. At first, it was almost intimidating, his height. I followed him up a flight of stairs, into an elevator and up a couple of floors. I made some small talk about the building itself. It didn't exist when I lived in this particular town. Another tenant joined us in the elevator for the first two floors.  I was painfully aware that I was there for a hookup, and had no idea what to talk about that wouldn't make it obvious to this innocent bystander. Eventually, we got to his apartment, it was the usual spartan but well decorated place. I was jealous.

Then the kiss. God damn, how I loved that kiss. He was scruffy, tall, dark skinned, better built, and the perfect height. Kissing was... easy, and hot! My hands explored all of him, and I marveled how easily I could grab and squeeze his ass. His cock protruded, and seemed to wrap itself around my cock. I know what wasn't possible, even though he was wearing loose fitting basketball shorts. I was wearing jeans, which kept me pretty contained. But I knew almost instantly his size was larger than mine, impressively larger.

He slowly lead me over to his couch. Before pushing me down onto it, he managed to get my belt off and my pants down around my ankles. I whimpered slightly when he took my rock hard cock into his mouth. He was amazing, warm, wet, just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of tongue. He was an expert.

I enjoyed his blowjob for what seemed like hours. Eventually, my own hunger took over and I pushed him off me. He stood before me, I lowered his shorts and let loose a monster of a cock. I can't describe enough how much I love the feel of a rock hard cock. They way it's both soft and silky, solid and throbbing at the same time. I licked the head, licked the underside softly. He was sweet, and clean, and burning hot! I enveloped the head of his cock and slowly slid it deeper and deeper into my mouth. It hit the back of my mouth before I was even half way down. I slid up and down on it a couple of times, enjoying it's heat and it's pulse. I tried to push it further, take it into my throat. I gagged. I concentrated on just the top half again. Every few minutes I would try to take it deeper, and each time I would gag. I put his hand on the back of my head and motioned for him to face fuck me. He pushed deeper and deeper with each throat. I continued to gag, but I willed myself to take it deeper and deeper.

It wasn't long before I couldn't take it anymore. I was gagging almost to the point of vomiting and I had to pull off of him. I kept going on the tip, until he pushed me off and back so that I was once again laying down his couch. He was back on his knees between my legs with my own cock engulfed in his mouth. He messaged my balls with his hand, as his tongue massaged the shaft of my cock. It was bliss, and I let it go on for an eternity. Or, it seemed like an eternity, I lost my sense of time. When my orgasm started, probably only a few moments had passed. I let him know I was about to cum not by telling him, but by tightening my grip on his head and pulling him tighter into my crotch. I knew that if he wanted to, he could overpower me and escape. He didn't, he rode my orgasm with me and, when it came, sucked every bit of cum out of me.

We both knew that I was in no position to reciprocate. It took several minutes before I could form full sentences again. He seemed to, honestly, enjoy my orgasm as much as I did, if that's possible. He was sated.

So, where did I find the motivation tonight to write this post. I've just set a return date with this guy. With any luck, I'll get to experience his mouth, and his burning cock, in the next couple of days. You have no idea how excited I am!

I've been busy. If you count the guy in the park, I'm up to 10 "willing" victims of my slut phase. All I can say is, I hope this never ends.

A Day In The Park

I'm really not sure what I expected, or what I was thinking, as I drove to the park. I was in The City, and I had a some time to kill. I was working, but just as on most days, no one accounts for my time and efforts but me. So, I had some time to kill. My next meeting wasn't for a couple of hours. I had seen on Squirt.org that there was a particular park in The City that was pretty popular for hookups. I needed a quiet place to sit down and possible get some work done (yeah, right!), so I decided to drive over and check it out.

I parked, grabbed my backpack with my computer, because, you know, I was there to work, and I walked over to the park. This wasn't your typical city park, or at least not typical of any of the parks I was used to in my life. My idea of a park is an open field, usually with some playground equipment and a baseball field or two. No, this was a vast forest area on a very steep hill. Walking into it, I could easily figure out why it was the choice place for M2M casual encounters. Lots of underbrush, lots of trails, lots of places to be out of view of the general public.

And, lots of steps. I was out of breath in seconds. Again, I hadn't yet decided what I was there for, so I just made my way of the hill. The City is known for it's killer views, and I had a suspicion that this place would not disappoint. It didn't. I made up to one of the summits, with my heart pounding in my chest and cool air on my face. The view was spectacular. I could see almost all of the city, the bridge blanketed in fog, the bay. I sat there for a while, simultaneously checking out the view and checking out Scruff, but really just trying to catch my breath. Scruff told me there were guys near by, but no one super close. I could see a few others walking around, a couple walked right by me. One guy climbed up the hill behind me. I thought maybe he was there for action, but there was no way he was getting anything out of me. He looked like he slept in the park last night.

Once I caught my breath, I walked around for a bit. There were a few guys walking around alone, but almost all appeared to be there just for the fresh air. I did see what looked like it might have been two guys doing something together in the distance, but I wasn't close enough to confirm anything. Anyways, after about an hour or so, I decided I'd had enough fresh air, so I started to make my way back to the entrance.

On my way out, I passed a guy who had just gotten out of his car. He was dressed in short and a sleeveless tee, and looked like he was there for a jog. I didn't pay him much attention, he was older than I was and had no hair on his head.


I made it back to my car, I really had to piss and I couldn't decide what to do next. I still didn't have to be anywhere for a couple of hours, and I wasn't in the mood to be early. It was Monday after all. I decided to take another look at Scruff. Maybe one of the guys that I'd been chatting on previous trips to The City were around. There are a couple of messages, but nothing real promising. I had really hoped that this one guy I'd met up with a couple of times would be around later today, but he hadn't responded to my message yet. It was then that I noticed that the guy I had just passed at the park entrance had taken the profile square right next to mine.

I didn't pay much attention to it, figured I was on my way out. But I hadn't left yet, and a minute later he messaged me. We went back and forth for a bit, and it wasn't long before I was back out of my car and walking back in the park entrance.

I met up with the guy, he was older, in his fifties. No hair on his head, but that was by choice. He obviously had very light colored hair, when he had it, because his eyebrows disappeared also. Anyways, we made the usual awkward small talk as I got him to lead the way towards a good spot. It was, after all, my first visit. I wouldn't have known where the good spots were. And really, neither did he. It took us a few minutes to find something suitable, and it required walking up a pretty steep hill and through some briars. When we finally did find a spot that was halfway decent, I suddenly remembered how badly I had to piss. Remember? I mentioned that before.

He waited patiently, as I took one of the longest pisses in my life. That's what I get for holding it for so long, and for being nervous about who was about to walk around the bend. When I finally did finish, I shook off what piss I could from my cock, turned around, and fed it right into his mouth. Like a good boy, he was already sitting down waiting.

The man had skills. He sucked me from soft to hard in seconds flat. The cool air hitting the exposed parts of my body was probably helping a bit. I had one hand on the back of his head, the other on a branch just over my head. I was rhythmically fucking his mouth, but slowly, enjoying every bit of it. I was still looking around nervously. I saw one guy jogging on a ridge a ways away, I didn't worry because he was going in the other direction. But as my orgasm started to build, I cared less and less about who might be around. I even started to moan.

It was probably one of the shortest blowjobs I've received, because I was cumming in a matter of a few minutes. He let me cum in his mouth, and kept nursing after my cock well into the oversensitive phase, and I let him. I saw another guy on the same ridge, walking in the other direction. Once glance to the left, and he'd see the both of us. I watched, as I still rhythmically slid my cock in and out of this guys mouth. He didn't look. I don't know what I would have done had he, or if I would have cared.

When I finally pulled my cock out, he spit my cum on the ground. I didn't know what was going to happen next, the deal I'd struck on Scruff was just for a blowjob, for me. When he stood up, I could see he was tenting his pants. I don't know if he expected me to reciprocate, or if he saw me staring, but he started to undo his pants. I quickly took he seat on the log, and he quickly fed me his cock.

It was a nice sized cock, I'm starting to think that everyone is bigger than I am. Very little hair, guess it wasn't just his head that was lacking. He was uncut, and I am really starting to love uncut cocks. Fortunately, it was clean.

I quickened my pace, and he was much more vocal as he fucked my mouth. I kept a hand on the base of his shaft to keep the skin pulled back, and the other hand gripped his ass and I guided his hips back and forth. I think I'm actually starting to get good at this, he came much faster than I did. If anyone heard me, then they definitely heard him. I let him cum in my mouth, and he had a firm grip on my hair as he did it. When he was done, I attempted to spit it out. I almost started laughing when a big splooge of it refused to let go of my tongue. I had to wipe it away, then I went back to his cock to see if I could get any more.

We both straightened ourselves out, and made our way back to the park entrance. He tried to make small talk along the way, but I'm not one for talking, especially afterwards. It's just awkward. I'm much better writing about it. Anyways, we came up to his car first, so I shook his hand and was on my way.

Slut Phase Victim #3: The All-Nighter

I woke up at one point in the night, covered in sweat, and feeling the need to break away from the source of the heat. He was snoring behind me, spooning me, snuggle up close and when I remembered where I was I no longer minded. And when I felt his cock nestled up against my ass, I pushed back a little and enjoyed the company. I had never met this man before, and it was this night that had me firmly convinced I had indeed turned into a slut. We'd chatted a few times on Scruff. He came off as a nice guy. He was fully out, openly gay and unattached. He had blonde hair with blue eyes. Somewhat hairy. Almost a foot shorter than me. I knew I wanted to hook up with him almost immediately, but neither of us could host. Me, for obvious reasons. Him, because he was somewhat new to the area and was living with family. On the second night chatting with him, he mentioned going out of town for work in another week or so. And, if I really wanted to hook up, I should meet him, and spend the night in his hotel room. This wasn't a possibility; my situation doesn't lend itself to taking off for a night without much explanation or cause. However, as luck would have, over the next couple of days things started lining up to where I would actually need to be in the same town at the same time. It's as almost as if fate wanted us to meet. LOL. Admittedly, the idea of spending an entire night with a stranger is a bit scary. I could be brave, because I would have my own hotel room to escape too if needed. When I asked if he was serious about inviting me, he hesitated, understandably. Ultimately, obviously, he agreed. I think that part of his hesitation was actually due to me being married and closeted. I showed up at his hotel pretty late, after 9. I drove up after work, and after taking care of a few other errands. My work commitments were for the next day, while he had already been there a couple of days. When I arrived, things were a bit tenuous and nervous at first. After all, aside from texting one another and sending pics of ourselves, we'd never met. He invited me in, I lay down on his bed, fully dressed, while he was in boxers and a T, and we talked. We talked for a good hour, and got comfortable. Then he invited me to get undressed and to get into bed. I undressed down to my own boxers and T-shirt, and got under the covers. We talked for a bit more, after he had turned out the light, and he was cuddling up on me. Things progressed pretty quickly from there. He had my shirt off, kept rubbing my chest and shoulders. I pulled his shirt off and was rubbing his back while pulling him down on top of me. I could feel his rock solid cock pushing against my lower stomach. And we kissed.

I don't think the kissing stopped much during the activities of the night. Except, that I had his cock in my mouth for a good while, and he had mine in his for almost as long. We both worked up a serious sweat, rolling back and forth to him being on top, than me, than him, and so on. I learned that I liked to bite his nipples, though I honestly couldn't tell you if that did anything for him. I also learned that I loved sucking on his cock. My skills still need work, but they're improving. What he really wanted to do was to slide his cock up and down the crack of my ass, which I gladly agreed to. The next 15 to 20 minutes reminded me of the dream I had about being taken from behind, the one that I wrote about here. I was lying on my stomach, he was laying on top of me. I loved the feel of all of his weight. He slid his cock back and forth across my hole. At times, it felt as though it might just pop right in. At times his hands were on my back or shoulders, holding himself up. And at another he'd collapse on top of me and just his hips would hump into me.
When he got close, he jumped up on his knees and began stroking himself. I thought about turning over so that he could cum on my chest, but thought better of it. He came all over my ass. After his orgasm subsided, he grabbed a towel and cleaned me up. I flipped over and began stroking myself while he sucked on my balls. It wasn't long before I was spurting all over my chest. Once the first wave passed, he moved my hand away and swallowed my cock. I was so sensitive, it almost felt like I had just cum a second time.
We both collapsed into bed. I used the same towel to clean myself up again. It was long before we both passed out. I woke up several times throughout the night. Once, I was the big spoon, with my cock firmly nuzzled between his cheeks. Another, just as my story began, he was nuzzling me. I had to get up and out early the next morning. But that didn't stop us from having some more fun. After a lot of kissing and wrestling, he both settled on our backs, butt to butt, with our balls smashed against each other and our legs tangled in the other. I was stroking my cock was my other hand was tugging on his balls and massage anything I could reach. He was stroking his cock while staring at me and using one his hands to hold up one of my legs. My orgasm came quickly, and my cum shot straight into the air and splattered over the both of us. His came a little slower, but put my own to shame. At that point, I was running late. I quickly hopped into the shower, then got dressed and ran a comb through my hair. Maybe only 5 minutes passed between jumping out of bed and walking out the door. The whole time he stayed naked, walking around the room, carrying on with the conversation. If I could have, I would have called in sick, dropped to my knees, and swallowed his cock. But I had to go. I grabbed his ass as we kissed goodbye, and took off. This rendezvous occurred about a month and a half ago. Since then, I've hooked up with this guy two or three more times. I'll call him Nate (Or Slut Victim #3) from here on out, and perhaps this can become a regular thing. Who knows.

Atlas Shrugged

I love that phrase, "Atlas Shrugged".  I don't know, it just conjures up so many thoughts and images.  I know it is the title of a book by Ayn Rand, which was later made into a movie.  But that's not what my past is about.  Atlas shrugged. Can you imagine?  Imagine the implications to both Atlas, and to the world.  In case you don't know, Atlas is a figure made most popular in Greek Mythology, a titan forced to hold up the heavens on his shoulders. For many, the myths have changed so that Atlas hold up the Earth on his shoulders. Either way, imagine what might happen if Atlas were to shrug.

For me, I think about the possibilities of letting your responsibilities and commitments go.  Of actually shrugging them off, even for a brief moment.  The immense relief one might feel if all the weight on their shoulders were to suddenly lift away.  But that's not all, almost immediately after the sense of relief would come a sense of fear, regret, or shame.  What would the affect be, to Atlas, when the very precious thing he is tasked to carry falls? What would happes to the heavens, or to the earth, when Atlas is no longer holding it up? What happens to all those people who are depending on you to carry your weight?

Many of you reading this would assume that I am cracking under the pressure.  That's not true.  Yes, I am under pressure and stress.  I have a lot of responsibilities.  Often it seems like I cannot get the space or the time to plan out how to get what I want, let alone the time to figure out what that is.  The pressure, the stress, is no more than normal, no more than any of my neighbors or any of you might be feeling at any given moment.  For some reason, perhaps as a Freudian slip, the phrase "Atlas Shrugged" popped into my head this morning, and I felt the need to write about it.

Fidelity

So this is one of those posts that I started a couple of month ago, but never finished.  I read back through it, and I decided to go ahead and post it even though it's incongruous with my current slut phase.

*****

Something has been on my mind lately. A dilemma. I can't decide if it's something that I want to deal with. Actually, I can't decide if it is something that I want to even think about whether it is something I want to deal with. Is that enough double speak for you? You should try living inside my head.

The dilemma has to do with my marriage and my fidelity. I've posted a bit about this before. What I'm worried about is to what degree have I been lying to myself. And, if I've been lying to myself, is there any hope for me and my marriage.

I saw something on Facebook that snapped this issue back into my face. It was one of those generic postings that several different people liked and shared, so I was forced to see it several times. It was a link to an article titled "Marriage is not for me".

The article starts off with the author, a man, explaining his fears about getting married. He was engaged to his best friend, a woman who had been with him for years. The man, despite his love for the woman, was doubting whether he was marrying the right one.

So the man confesses to his father his doubts. His father replies simply with, "you are being selfish, you don't get married for you. You get married to make the other person happy."

That thought hit home. Of course, the article plays on words and emotions so that you are expecting some revelation about how marriage isn't right for everyone. Perhaps this guy is meant to be a life long bachelor. But that's not the revelation. Once the author realized that it was more important to him that he devote his life to making his fiancé happy than making himself happy, it was a no brainer.

Did I enter into my marriage with the right expectations? With the right frame of mind? Was I thinking about making my wife happy? Or was I only trying to make myself happy.

When I chose, now a couple of years ago, to venture across the line, who was I really trying to satisfy? Well, jeez, I know the answer to that question is obvious. Little Jay was in control. But I rationalized, even to this day, that it was the best option for all involved. It allowed me to experience something I desperately wanted to experience, without threatening my current situation.

*****

Had I finished this post back when I started it, I would have written about how I was struggling with the decision of whether to keep doing what I'm doing.  I was seriously considering playing it straight, exclusively, from that point forward.  Well, I guess you know what happened to that line of thinking.  Not that I actually resolved anything, except that I resolved to put the question on hold for a time.  To be struggled with on another day.

Porn Rot

I am beginning to think that it is highly likely that porn has rotted my brain.

Since the invention of the world wide web, I have been somewhat addicted to downloading pictures of naked men off the internet. Since I began my blog, I've stepped up my collection process.  I've subscribed to more blogs and tumblrs than I can count.  I browse through them on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis, saving anything that peaks my interest to my google photos account.  The idea is that later, as I am writing posts, I will have a huge selection of photos to choose from. This began a couple of years ago.  Today I have tens of thousand of photos saved.  A few duplicates, yes, but more than I could possible use in a lifetime.  And it's not just naked men, it's groups of naked men.  And they're not just posing for the photo, they are sucking, rimming, 69'ing, fucking, you name it.  Men of all ages, body types, ethnic backgrounds, cultures.  I have entire libraries devoted to jocks, cowboys, bears, muscle-bears, and twinks.  Solos, duos, groups, men blowing, men kissing, men fucking.  And that doesn't even count those that include or are exclusively women. Lately, animated GIFs have completely taken over, so I don't even need to imagine what the scene is the photo is depicting.


So, why do I think porn has rotted my brain?

It used to be that I could enjoy some private time to myself, in bed, with nothing but some lube, something to

I've found that my imagination alone is no longer enough.  I can't hold a fantasy as well as before.  My mind wonders, and it doesn't get me as "hot and bothered".  I've found that I need the photos, or the videos, to really get me going.  I can't even "relive" any of my recent experiences, because they are not vivid enough. My time with slut phase victim #1 or #2 were so hot, I just be walking around with a perpetual boner.
clean up with, and my imagination. I would play out elaborate fantasies in my mind that could get me cumming in as little as a few minutes, or I could stretch them out to last over an hour.  I think my record is just under two hours. You'd think with my recent experiences and my slut phase, I'd have more spank-bank material than ever.

This could be due to my extremely advanced age of 38, I don't know.  I've certainly read in other places the affects of porn on people, but I never gave it much thought before.  Maybe I need to take a break from my constant photo collecting?  Or is this just what it's come to?  Thoughts?

Slut Phase Victim #2

I have already plummeted deep into my slut phase, since I am now up to random encounters with 4 men, one of them twice.  Number 2 was Doug, I guy I met on Scruff (and Growlr simultaneously).  I was working out of town for the day, more than a 100 miles away from home.  I had Scruff, Growlr, and Grindr all running on my phone. (I mentioned the slut phase, right?)  I was actually working at a public event with several hundred people, and I got a little thrill out of the prospect that I might run into another guy at the event, who was also using one of these apps.

So I have all these apps running, and I'm having several simultaneous chats.  I actually told a couple of these guys that I would come over after the event. I don't know what I was thinking, I became one of those flakes I hear so much about.  One guy in particular was Doug. He was hot. Despite the fact that he dramatically shorter than I, he was almost exactly my type.  Well built, great smile, beard, dark hair and eyes.  I wasn't sure why he was so interested in me, but I was enjoying the chat.

I decided to meet up with him.  I should say, I accepted his invitation.  I had already cancelled on the others because I ended up leaving the event much later than I originally planned.  (Because, you know, I was actually going to have a couple of hookups in the same night before I was held up)  So Doug asked me to come over, I said yes, and then...  no response!

Well, I guess I got what I deserved, right?  I waited a bit, to see if he would answer.  I drove around in the general direction I thought I needed to go.  But I finally gave up and got on the freeway to head home.  It wasn't for another 10 minutes that he finally texted back.  He said his phone had died, and he apologized.  I didn't care, I only wanted to know how far away he was.  (Can you tell I was a bit horny?)  Fortunately he was close, only a couple of minutes away.  I quickly got off and back on the freeway going in the other direction.

I arrived at his apartment about 10 minutes later.  It was one of those places where I had to be buzzed in. Why do all the guys I meet live in better homes than I do?  He buzzed me in, and I went up to his fourth floor apartment and knocked on the door.

I was not disappointed by what I saw when he answered the door.  He had a proud chest, tight body, great face and smile.  He was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  Yeah, he was shorter than me.  When I say that he was shorter, I mean that he literally was a foot shorter.  But I didn't care.  We made some small talk, sitting on the couch of his dimly lit but nice apartment.  It wasn't very long before he was on top of me.  We made out of a few minutes, I could tell he loved shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, and he loved his when I shoved my tongue into his.

I had my hands on his ass, and fuck he has a nice ass!  It was a tight bubble butt that just felt perfect in my hands.  I loved squeezing them and pulling his groin in tighter against mine.  We slowly shed our clothes, first his shirt, then mine.  This his jeans, then mine.  Despite his smaller frame, his cock was larger than mine.  And I loved the feel of it, rock hard, sheathed in cotton, pressed against my belly button.  It wasn't long after that that all of our clothes were off and his mouth was on my cock.  He told me earlier in the evening that he was good with his tongue, and he wasn't kidding.  I definitely have a lot to learn when it comes to BJs.  After a few minutes of him slobbering on my cock, I pulled him up so that he could feed me his.

That was when I realized that he was uncut.  I was so proud, my first uncut cock!  LOL.  I can say with certainty now, I love an uncut cock.  He obviously took hygiene seriously, because I tasted nothing but sweet and smooth skin as his cock slid down my tongue in push slowly into my throat.  The extra skin changed something about the experience.  I've also loved how a cock can feel rock hard but soft at the same time, and this time was even more so.  The extra skin added even more silkiness.

He was back on my cock after only a couple of minutes.  I was moaning so loudly, I'm sure if he had neighbors they heard me.  It wasn't long before I was cumming in his mouth.  He took every drop and swallowed it.  He fed me his cock again, and I tried with all my might to bring him to orgasm.  Ultimately, he had to jack off while standing over me.  When he came, his shot all over my chest, neck and face.

The awkward moments afterwards have gotten to the point where they're comical.  I knew full well what was going to happen next, but I couldn't avoid it.  We'd clean up, and I'd try to get out of there as fast as I could.  Not only did I not really have the time to stop in the first place, but the strained small talk is so painful it's almost unbearable.  However, I can take pride in that he was already talking about the next time we'd get together, and how next time, he wanted more time.

I got dressed, and got out of there.  He knew I was short on time, so I didn't feel too bad about it.  We texted back and forth a couple of times on my way home, and a couple of times since.  I can't wait till my next trip out of town.

Pride Goes Before The Fall

Pride goes before the fall.  As soon as you think you're untouchable, impenetrable, that's exactly when reality decides to bitch slap you across the face.  It's a thought that I constantly use to remind myself to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.  That doesn't mean I haven't stumbled.  It only means that I've been lucky enough not to land flat on my face.  Yet.

Men, you know we're pretty stupid most of the time. I realized how stupid I was the other night.  I have been steadily increasing the number of guys that I've hooked up with, that I'm having ongoing conversations with. With one guy in particular, the conversation via text got pretty intense and heavy real quick.  This guy actually provided two opportunities for me to stumble over.

The first was that he turned out to be a bit needy, something which I should have recognized much earlier than I did.  So, as I said, I had been steadily increasing my activities.  This meant increasing the amount of time I turned on apps such as Scruff, Growlr or Grindr, as well as increasing the number of apps that I have installed on my phone.  I had also been increasing the number of conversations via text messages, for which I use a Google voice number, one of many that I own.  To protect myself, these Google voice text messages don't land on my phone, I have to go to a website to check them. This way, if my phone is ever searched, it's clean.  But, that set up is not very conducive to ongoing chats, since I have to remember to check for the messages rather than hearing the notification chime.  So, I decided to let the chats get forwarded to one of my email accounts that I use for work.  I can delete the incoming email immediately, then jump into Google's website to continue the conversation.

Pride goes before the fall.  I know the original proverb is "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall."  The meaning is the same.  I had become complacent, had gone for so long without even coming close to getting caught, that began to take more risks than I realized.  One night I was text-chatting with this guy, say his name is Barry.  I had said good night, as I was about to go to bed. Another message came in after having gone to bed.  My wife didn't see the message itself, but she did see a sender's name just before I swiped away the notification.  It was probably my quick reaction of getting rid of the notification and acting like a couldn't find the message she was asking about that caused the suspicion.  She then asked, "Are you hiding things from me again?", to which I answered, "No", trying to sound as sincere as possible.

I was so freaked out, I woke up in the middle of the night and cleaned my phone.  I removed the extra emails I was receiving from the other account.  But she actually already knows that account exists, so I removed everything out of that account. I deleted all the contacts, text messages, emails, and the most painful, I deleted all the photos that I had received from other guys, and the photos I had taken of myself.

I also deleted all the apps, Grindr, Growlr, Scruff.

My phone is not spotless.  My alternate Google account that contains my other email address and my other Google voice number have been scrubbed clean so that if she ever asked to see them, there would be nothing to see.  (None of these accounts are the one that I use for this blog, which she knows nothing about)

So was the first opportunity that Barry gave me to stumble.  I don't really blame him, but his neediness caused him to text me constantly.  The second opportunity was that when I didn't respond to the texts, he would text even more often.  And when I was sick with the flu, and I didn't respond to his texts all weekend, he flew off the handle.  I should have known, I should have seen the signs.  Luckily for me, I had not yet met this guy in person.  After that weekend, he called me names, called me a flake, said that I was going to hell for what I am doing.  (Honestly, I can't argue that point, except he was find with that before the weekend) Then he said that he would take advantage of any opportunity to expose me.  So, great, now I have someone out there who is angry and vindictive enough to actively try to destroy my life.  Fuck, what did I do.

Despite his rants, I stayed cool and calm.  I apologized, both for the lack of responses, and for that he felt that way.  I explained that obviously we weren't meant to be friends, since my friends are not so willing to give up on a friendship and my friends are much more understanding.  I haven't heard from him since, and it's been weeks.  I probably won't ever hear from him again.

You'd think I've learned my lesson, right?  Hehe, no.  I reloaded my contacts, retaken some of the photos, started the text-to-email function back up (but only when I am not at home).  I haven't loaded the apps back, and I hope that I remain strong enough to keep them off my phone.  I have found other ways to access them that are more discreet and that keep my phone clean.

Slut Phase

I feel a slut phase coming on, which is hilarious considered that a few of my unfinished posts had to do with how I was throwing in the towel.  I couldn't help but re-install Scruff on my phone, then Growlr, then yes, I finally put Grindr back on their as well. So, a couple weeks back, I'm on Growlr, and a guy starts chatting me up.  No big deal, even though I haven't had any kind of man-on-man action since I last hooked up with M, I still chatted with a few men from time to time.  So this guy is trying to get me to come over.  This is around the time in the evening that I have been going to gym.  So, I am on my way out, to the gym, and he asks again.  So, I think, "what the hell?"

This is indiscretion number one, first in a while.
Indiscretion number two has already happened as well, but that's for another post.  I drove over to the guys house, it's about 25 minutes away.  During the drive I'm thinking to myself, "there's no way I am going to get any gym time in tonight".  I arrive at the address given, and I see the house he described, and I walked up and rang the door bell.

Now, the first time I did this, my heart was in my throat and I couldn't have a coherent thought.  This time I was just cool.  I guess I'm now an old pro.  I'd seen pics of the guy, but I didn't have a clear picture in my head of what he looked like. We didn't really talk about what we were going to do either.  I just wanted cock, and I went for it.  He answered the door, after keeping me waiting for a few minutes.  I realized after he let me in that he must have first called out for me to just come in, but I didn't hear him.  When he opened the door, he was like, "Oh, it was unlocked."

So I follow him to his bedroom.  The place is immaculate, but his room was not.  Later I confirmed my suspicion that it wasn't his house, that he was renting a room.  There was just too much disparity between his bedroom and the rest of the house that I saw. Not that that mattered.  I follow him to his room, and there's porn playing on the computer.  The room is warm and inviting, decorated with various out-doorsy stuff.  Oh yeah, did I tell you? The guy was only in a pair of boxers, and not bad looking at all!  I had started drooling when I walked through the front door.

It doesn't take long to get down the business.  We kiss, and after just a brief moment, I dropped to my knees.  Taking his cock into my mouth was like returning home after a long trip, and I loved it.  We stayed there, in the middle of his room for a few minutes, then he lead me over to the bed and I undressed. He laid me down, and went down on my cock, on my balls, my taint, my ass.  I was a little nervous because I hadn't really had a chance to "prepare".  But I guess I was clean enough, because he wasn't slowing down. He's all over me, and I'm loving it.  Then he's laying on top of me and we're kissing again, while rubbing up against one another.

Then he straddled me, and before I could protest, my cock is in his ass.  I don't know what it is, why I am so stupid in these situations.  I can preach to anyone who will listen about the virtues of safer sex, which I did in High School and College.  But in this situation, he was in control, and I was just going along for the ride. No, sorry, he was the one riding me and holy fuck did it feel good.  So good in fact I had to stop him to keep myself from cumming too soon.  He ass was tight and seemed to grip and massage me at the same time. He slowed down, gave me a break, let me suck on his cock some more.  Then started to ride me again.  I was in Heaven, but I had to stop him again.  Wow, talk about a minute-man!

I didn't stop him the second time around quickly enough, and ended having one of those half-assed orgasms that I hate so much.  You know,
where you don't get any of the enjoyment of cumming, but your forced into post-orgasm indifference.  I don't know if he caught on or not.  We switched things up for a bit and I went down on him again.  This time with him on his back.  After a few minutes he tried to get me to fuck him again, in sort of a missionary position.  But it wasn't happening.  I couldn't get hard enough.  He asked if I would let him fuck me, but remember what I said about preparing.  So, no.  Or, maybe my senses came back to me by that point.

We ended our fun with him jacking off while standing in front of me, and cumming into my mouth.  Which was so hot.  He asked if I wanted to cum, and I told him I was good.  So maybe he didn't catch on?  His spunk wasn't the best tasting, though, it was a bitter and tangy.  Nothing like my own or the others I've had.

The whole experience was maybe 10 minutes, 15 at a stretch.  I was pretty down on myself for my lack of performance, but in the end I got what I wanted and he got to cum.  He offered a shower and I accepted.

Then I got dressed while he showered.  He was surprisingly trusting.  Then I did what I could to avoid the awkward goodbyes and excuse myself.

I did make it to the gym, have enough time to work up a real sweat, then go home.

So, yeah, slut phase.  This experience was the first in a long while.  And I was convinced, for much of that time, that my escapades were over.  Just over a week later came the second experience, and Damn!, that one was HOT.  I tell you about that one next time.  Fast forward to this week, where I am having three simultaneous serious conversations with different guys that I fully expect to lead to, yup, you guess it, sex. Two of them sound a little like they could turn into regular things.

I just need to figure out how to make sure I play it a little safer.  And if your wondering, yes, I've already got tested and I will follow up.  So far, all is good, I was lucky.

TMI: "DO THESE JEANS MAKE MY BUTT LOOK FAT?" / "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

I figured, why the hell not. I'll give this a try.

TMI: "DO THESE JEANS MAKE MY BUTT LOOK FAT?" / "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!"

1. What's the most creative lie you've ever told?
When I was younger I went to summer camp. I was part of the group that went hiking through the mountains, so our group was pretty segregated throughout the week. I came up with this elaborate story about how I had run away from home and jumped on the bus to camp. That my parents had no idea where I was, and that they probably didn't care. I went on to say that my Mom's boyfriend was a dick, and just simply didn't want to be around him any more.

2. What lie do you wish you could take back?
That one, I looked pretty stupid when we go back to the main campground later and the week, and my little sister said hi as she walked by.

3. How long could you go without lying? Even a white lie.
Depends on whether you include the lie-of-omission. If yes, not very long. Lying sucks, and I do my best to avoid it at all costs. Even in my extra-curricular activities, I arrange things in a way so that the question never gets asked. So that I don't have to explain where I was, or what I was doing. Outside of my extra-curricular activities, when the truth hurts and I don't have to say it, I don't. But when I have to say it, it's better to say the truth than to lie.

4. Are you more honest when you comment anonymously?
Depends on what I am commenting about. My blog is anonymous, and I am more honest about that aspect of my life. But I would rarely make any anonymous comments on other things that I wouldn't be willing to put my name on.

5. Does the truth hurt?
Yes, the truth can hurt. It can also be liberating. In almost all situations, the truth is better than the lie.

6. What was the worst thing that happened to you because of a lie?

I lost my High School girl friend because of a lie that she told herself.

7. Who do you lie to the most - yourself or others?
For most of my life, myself. These days I would say that I am more honest with myself than others.

8. Is there a difference between a secret and a lie?
Yes, because that's the lie I tell myself.

9. Truth or Dare?
Dare

10. Does the mirror never lie?
The mirror lies all the time! I know what I see in the mirror is way worse than what others see.

11. Does the mirror have two faces?
The mirror has many faces, all reflective of context and attitude.

12. How old are you?
Today I am 37.

13. How much do you weigh?
315lbs.


BONUS
Is it really that big? Are you really vers? Just how old is that pic?
It's not really THAT big, but I never proclaimed it to be. I'm am vers in that I am still open to figure out what I truly enjoy. Sadly, I am not brave enough to post any pics of myself on my blog. The pic I use on hookup apps is 2 or 3 years old.

Married / Once-married

Despite my lack of respect to the blogging community with my complete lack of posts since last August, my blog still manages to get visitors.  Even more so in the last few weeks. I may have been silent, but I am always present.  Reading other blogs and pouring through hundreds of photos is always easier than writing a post of my own.  I have written a few posts in the last couple of months, but have failed to complete one, or even write enough that I felt it worthy of posting.  As always, I am honored to be a part of this community.

I did something last night that kind of surprised me.  No, it wasn't a random hookup, though I've been thinking about doing that again more and more.  I came across an ad, or an article, I can't remember which, that talked about a men's support group for married and once-married men, who are attracted to men.  I was intrigued. This was a couple of weeks ago, and I was thinking about going.  It just so happens that I had a work event in that same city last night, which ended just before this group was the meet.  I had a perfectly good opportunity, being that I was already going to be out for the evening so I wouldn't have to make up a story.  I still wasn't sure what I would do, until I was driving away from the previous event.

For those of you who read about my first encounter and what lead up to it, you know how much of a nervous wreck I can be.  I thought I would react the same way going to this group.  But it wasn't at all that bad.  I felt relatively comfortable parking, walking up and into the building, asking for directions to the right room, walking in and sitting down.

I really enjoyed the group.  I sat and listened for two hours as 10-12 guys told a little bit of there story, ranging from divorced and fully out to their friends and family, to, like me, married and hiding.  A variety of ages, nationalities, cultures.  All with one thing in common, they all are or were married to women and they all identify as gay or bi.  And, interestingly, all of them had children.  They were very warm and welcoming, and I felt no pressure to say anything.

I would like to go back.  The group in itself is perfectly harmless.  I could, if I wanted to, tell my wife about the group and "ask permission" to attend each week.  As many of you know, my wife is aware of my various sexual attractions. I believe that should would support me in having a place to talk about all of this.  But I don't know if I am going to do that.  I certainly could not come up with a plausible excuse to go every week. Maybe once of month or so.  I do want to continue to attend, they were a great group of guys and I could certainly use the support and advice of those who have been, or are, in my situation.

Over the last couple of months, I guess for all of 2013, I have been vacillating on whether I would continue my extra curricular activities or would I play it straight from now on.  I have tried to be as honest with myself as I could.  I know full well that these feelings are not gonna just go away.  If I decided to abstain, eventually the urges would overcome my better senses.  At the same time, my extra curricular activities are just that, extra.  They have very little impact on my life as a whole, with the exception of putting my life as it is at risk. There are days where I become convinced that I do not need men anymore.  That I have set out to do what I needed to do, and now that I've had the experience my life can go back to normal. Then there are days where I am cruising Grindr, Growlr, Scruff, Squirt and Craiglist; simultaneously.  On those days, it's a wonder what has kept me from stepping out.  Probably a lack of real opportunity.

That's my update for now.  I sincerely hope that everyone had a great New Year's and here's to a brand new year, 2014.

As I wrote this, I realized that of all the people and groups I interacted with in my life, this group has the greatest likelihood to have read my blog.  If they read this now, they will obviously figure out who I am and what I am talking about.  Hmm... awkward.  Well, I guess it could save me a whole lot of talking in the next group.  ;)