Last night at the huge performance arts festival that’s been running all week, I met a furry little lumberjack from Canada with pretty eyes, a sweet smile and a big ol’ ass of solid muscle. His show finished early in the evening, and we got talking over cocktails in a tent by the outdoor stage.
I live close to where the festival is held, so after a couple of drinks, we snuck off to my place for a crazy quickie, cleaned up and got right back. Neither his co-performers or my friends were any the wiser!
I thought I was done with little guys after the last couple didn’t work out, but it seems I was too close to see what was going on. Now that I have a little objective distance, I realize that the problem wasn’t discomfort with the size disparity or power dynamic. It was that both of them got too serious too fast with the dating stuff.
What I need is a stable of short men with tight little muscle butts who I can fuck, no strings attached. Hunky fireplugs who just want some big Daddy dick and that’s it…
My old Bearfriend is coming back from vacation in Israel soon and now that we’re on speaking terms again, I’m looking forward to hearing stories about all the hot guys he met over there.
It turns out my worn out feeling yesterday was actually food poisoning. By late morning, let’s just say I had all the signs, which unfortunately left me weak and achy by the end of the day. So, no Papa or puppy for me.
Fortunately, it seems to have been a very mild case, and I expect to be back to full strength by tonight. Just in time for a farewell session with Papa Bear…
Papa Bear hasn’t even left the city and my naughty puppy (who looks like Adam Ramzi) is already sexting me pics of himself in jockstraps and leather, trying to get me to come over and play.
To be honest, I’m so satisfied (and worn out) that I’m actually going to pass and take a day to recuperate.
Only two weeks left until Gay Days, and I’ve gotten pretty much into the shape I wanted for this year. The human body is so weird and amazing that it’s always interesting to me to talk with guys about what they do to create the bodies they’re in.
The swollen bodybuilder-types are always funniest.
