I love Christopher Daniels with a beard, but I’m kinda surprised by his extra-lean look. I mean, I’m down to 11% body fat, and I look chunky next to him. I prefer him with a little more meat on his bones.
Don’t get me wrong. I still find him super hot. But it’s going to make me think twice about leaning down any more myself.
I was chatting with my housekeepers today (those girls hear some stories), and I realized that, like me, pretty much all the guys I hook up with have beards. Rarely do the smooth-faced get attention from me in real life.
Beards add something to all kinds of sex, like brushing his cock with it when you blow him, running it across his hole while you rim him or using it to mop up his incredible armpit smell while you’re fucking him. But there’s something especially intimate about petting another man’s beard while you’re kissing him.
So if you want to leave it as a one-night stand, don’t do that.
I love the contractions I feel on my cock when a guy shoots his load while I’m buried deep inside him. Lately, though, it seems he either pulls himself off or pops me out before he can cum.
Some of it can be chalked up to the inventive positions my partners and I have been trying, but I have to admit I’ve been running into a lot of tight ass lately…which is not always good for someone my size.
I’m thinking there are going to be a few butt plugs in the stockings this Christmas.
In with all the wild art, there were lots of crazy costumes and even crazier behaviors at Art Basel this weekend. You just had to know where to look, and thanks to my bearfriend and friends down from New York and Seattle, I did.
It makes another normal day back home seem boring. So I’ve decided to wear a wrestling singlet tomorrow…all day, everywhere!
Now that I think about it, I had lots of great sex this weekend, and I have to say, I’m pretty exhausted. A satisfied exhausted. Like I don’t need anything except a cocktail, a cigarette and a balcony with a view of the moonlit bay.