Last night with my bearfriend was great. We drank, screwed, took a couple of Vicodin, went out for steaks, drank, saw Santa, screwed and passed out. Come to think of it, it’s actually only the second time we’ve fucked under the influence.
Okay, so I may not be into the guys (Kayden Gray is somewhat doable), but I’m definitely into the scene. I haven’t had someone worship my feet in far too long, and I’d be happy to reward him by letting him smell my socks while I fuck him.
I know just the guy for the job, but he’s out of town until next week! I don’t think my feet can wait that long…
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.
The Art Basel craziness may be fading fast, but for some the ginger hunt continues. And no, young man, it’s not just a phase you’re going through, so when you find one you like, be sure to get a lot of use out of him…
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.