Going Deeper (Inside Strange Men)

First, I figured out a way for me to have fisting lube conveniently available, without carrying around too much of the slip-hazard-in-a-bottle. The stuff that gets the best press these days is K-lube ; it's polyethylene oxide and possibly some preservative that they don't list, but it doesn't have the sugar that J-lube does as a spreading agent; you can dip your hands in J-lube powder and rub it on your hands and then get them wet and you're Mister Fistfingers... but that's the sugar making it happen. The sugar can also lead to faster spoilage, and possibilities for yeast infection. So, because I got excited before I did all the reading, I also have an unopened bottle of J-lube, and I just got it.... K is what comes AFTER J. It's like the next generation.  It comes in a 200g bottle of powder, which doesn't seem like a lot, but it's light, so it's probably close to a pint of volume. It's an awkwardly-large bottle to pack in an already crowded back...

So... I was excited about the class tonight.  I used to draw. I used to draw all the time; it was like breathing. Going into that magical other space where nothing is words, everything is curve and angle and shade, made everything more beautiful; I feel the same way sometimes when I trip, like I am touching a wordless connection with Beauty, and it lingers on me like incense.  I haven't drawn much at all, in quite a while. I've taken a couple of classes; I've made some attempts. I tried. But I was locked out of that special frame of mind, and couldn't get connected. It's like switching to breathe underwater - you have to open your gills. So my joy in actually finding that doorway open and accessible tonight, was an almost visceral glee. I showed my drawings to other people, and other people passed them around, looking at them. I'm still frustrated with some parts of these, and I'm definitely out of shape, in both a muscular way relating to mark-making, and i...

  I love how impressionistic this is. It's a straight screen cap with no filter. It's just the lighting. He looks like he's rendered in soft pastel on Cansons, the velvety one that holds so much pigment... while he's choking on my dick.  It has been a LOT of fun lately being me. These guys who say things like, "Oh I would never go on a weekday, that's a fucking drugged out whore crowd... " Um... I play with a lot of objectively, erotically, HOT guys. Some of them have the kinds of muscles that I would imagine on a fantasy. Some of them have been in my fantasy, like guys I've jerked off to from porn - and I have to admit, that's a a certain thrill, to realize that little twist in my, um path?  I am certainly not complaining... not by any stretch of the imagination; I'm having a spectacular time. But - it does occasionally get to the point where I have to make progress notes as the evening goes along, so that I can fucking REMEMBER it all. The Un...