Going Deeper (Inside Strange Men)

I never get tired of saying, "Holy FUCK, what a night." I mean, I feel like it's fully justified, and I feel like it's important to stop and recognize, really feel some deep gratitude for the fact that I'm having an absolutely pornographic sex life... and I'm living my best autistic self right through the middle of it.  Bolder [see also: An Inside Job , Good Boy, Spit in the Bowl , Remarkable , Kinky Book Club ] sent me a message that he's free, so I know there will be fun shenanigans. I arrive, unpack my little encampment, perform the Laying Out of the Tools, get my lights set... all the little things that make an evening in my room weird and special. We get started with some beard play and then pit sniffing and licking, then some in-depth fragrant foreskin worship. I swear, for guys who like it, it's like Essential Oil of Penis, and sniffing it is a sacrament. Bolder performs the Rite of Worship with zeal and vigor. Hail, Priapus! I'm having some...

 WARNING: This post has some race play in it. It's pretty understated - mostly chosen by which bits of video you're not seeing, and when I turned the camera off to have a conversation.  I have just enough time to go get a shower, and then get a clean towel... and then tell the cute boy at the counter that I'm waiting on this sexy boy that I need to walk in, because (a) I have to pay his way in, and (b) I want to keep a close eye on him. He's got the kind of ass that makes grown men drop to their knees and worship... and tonight, it's mine.  I hate being early. I get places often half an hour early, just because I abhor being late... and I like to do things like walk around a block, so that I'm oriented to the space I'm in, and have a sense of moving around and seeing new things. It puts me in the right frame of mind. Especially since, once I've seen them once, they're not new things. So even going into a new space in a building, I know what the local...

There's a guy I met a few years ago. He's an attractive young Black man, enough smaller than me that he comes up past my shoulder, but doesn't look me in the eye. He and I started a conversation on Scruff that evolved into him introducing me to race play. It's a complicated subject - it's impossible to start from a position of equity, because of the history of American chattel slavery, and at first it felt like a game I shouldn't play - but the more he talked about how he feels about it, how it allows him to explore feelings in a role-playing, psychodrama space that he can't address in his daily life, the more it became a conversation I could engage in. We all have things in our past that contribute to our personal twists and kinks; if I look honestly at most of my own personal perversions, I can trace the germ of them back to some childhood injury, adolescent trauma, or prior relationship obsession. As you bend the twig, so grows the tree. I'm not claim...

This evening... was a lot. I know I say that often - but I have had some really awesome experiences in the past little while, and sometimes it gets kind of overwhelming.  I wanted to make a quick clip of how you move the wave up your body - it's a thing I picked up from Barbara Carrellas' book Urban Tantra .  I get in, set my stuff up, and begin a prowl round. I want to see who's where, and what's available - so I need to move through the space quickly enough that I presumably get to see at least almost everybody who's playing visible. I'm checking out potential playmates. I'm mentally stretching scenarios over potential cast members, seeing if I want to dominate this one, or suck that one's dick. But I usually walk a lap through without having any sex. This happens. There are some hot guys here tonight; lots of handsome, some seriously big dick, a variety blend of races and types and ages. I see this one handsome Latino boy - he's probably six-three...