Okay. Bear Bust is over, and I am sufficiently fucked out. It was such a fun weekend meeting people, dancing, playing pool games and, of course, hooking up, but now I’m ready for a break.
Half day of work. Yoga. Then movie night hosted by a friend of mine at the bar.
Ooo. At the bar.
So I guess you never know what could happen! Haha!
I love big, crazy gay events. They’re a voyeurs paradise! You don’t even have to lurk to get an eyeful. When there aren’t any sex demos, just walk around the host hotel looking for open curtains.
They get to show off, and I get warmed up for Round Three…
Turns out I didn’t need two dates yesterday. Brunch guy turned into an all-day experience of eating, fucking, going to a museum, the park, more eating, more fucking, drinks and, you guessed it, more fucking. He left to drive back home this morning.
I’m trying to convince him to come back for Bear Bust this weekend. As a ginger muscle bear, he’ll fit right in.
And so, the conversation with my end-of-summer boy continues. We may have only exchanged one nude pic each, but there’s a lot of dirty talk going back and forth between us. We’re both very verbal.
I have a chance to fly up and visit him for a long weekend next month, and I just might take it. The mental pictures we’ve been weaving together, along with my memories of how he milked my cock dry with his twerking, are pretty persuasive…
My end-of-summer boy and I have been talking about the things we’re going to do the next time we’re together, and part of that includes him wanting to indulge my underwear fetish.
I expect a parade of briefs, jocks, Speedos and singlets coming my way. I just don’t know how much longer I can wait…