Friday, February 28, 2014

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.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014


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.

Friday, February 21, 2014

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?

Thursday, February 20, 2014

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.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

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.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

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.