PAGING DR. FISHNETS (PART 2)

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DORE 2018

Dore Alley about 2018

The bar was packed wall to wall.
I wanted to get to my favorite spot; The dark quiet area in the back. The thing was; there was no place in that bar that was quiet. 

The house music was pumping and I have to say the beat was nice. Very appropriate for the atmosphere. If it wasn't for the lively music that drew me toward the back I would have wondered if it was worth my time spending damn near 10 minutes trying to get from the front door to the back where the action was.

The only way to get anywhere was to wait until the wave of bodies pushed you there. There really wasn't much going against the flow. I finally made it to the back.

Because I didn't have my usual gear on, my feet were starting to kick my ass in those boots. All I needed was a bench to sit on. Hell I would have settled for a wall to lean against. Every spot was taken by guys making out, kissing, blowing each other or fucking. And the one's who weren't doing any of that were watching the others do it or sizing each other up for the prowl. 

Normally I would stick to my usual jeans and leather jacket. That night I decided to squeeze myself into my leather chaps for the last time since my weight gain, my leather jacket, my muir cap, boots and of course my gloves. I could still but just barely fit my chaps over my jeans. I could have easily worn my chaps with just my jockstrap. But let's be honest. I was really there just trying to look cute that night. Most guys hate the SM type. (Those who just Stand and Model. a.k.a taking up space) But Fuck! I put my time in. I earned my stripes. It was Dore Alley and I was bound to be with my tribe even if it meant I was just going to watch.

Finally I was lucky enough to get a spot against the wall. Occasionally I would switch which boot would support me against the wall just to ease the pressure. 

Next to me was a long bench with not one ounce of space to sit. On the bench was a good looking White guy dressed in a leather police uniform with a muir cap on and leather gloves. 

He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back.

"I thought I'd never get a spot to lean on in here. My feet are killing me!" I shouted over the music.

"You can sit on my lap if you like!" He shouted.

I laughed, "No thank you! I appreciate it though."

He grinned and gestured his arms and head as to say,"C'Mon!"

"Nah!" I shook my head and smiled.

He continued to flag me over.

"What?"

I shrugged my shoulders. 

He patted his thigh to gesture me to have a seat.

"I don't believe I'm doing this." I said with a big grin on my face.

"See that wasn't so bad. Was it?" He said in a friendly tone.

As the music played I found myself getting into the groove. I turned more into the center of his lap grinding and gyrating to the beat.
He just sat there with a big grin on his face as he nodded his head to the music. That's when he placed his hand on my inner thigh and slowly made his way up.

"You know if you keep dancing on me like that you're going to get me excited." He said as he reached higher up my thigh.

We sat there for about ten minutes or so watching the sex taking place on the dance floor while others were actually dancing.

I actually had to use the bathroom so I got up. He stood up also so that we were face to face.

"You don't have to leave now do you?" He frowned.

"I really have to pee. I'll be right back."

I reached in and gave him a kiss.

"You don't really have to leave if you don't want to." He said with a smile.

He knelt down on his knees and looked up at me. I unbuckled my chaps, unbuttoned my jeans and pulled my cock out. I started to piss as he opened his mouth to drink. Trying very hard not to make a mess on the dance floor I would stop and start again the best I could as not to overflow.

"Ready?" I asked

He'd shake his head yes and open as wide as he could.

I stopped a few more times and repeated the process until I emptied my piss fully as he swallowed. When I was done, he sucked my cock and took my load in his mouth. Not bad for someone who wasn't planning on doing anything.

THE CRAWL

LINK: THE MAKING OF DADDY SCRUFF

 Saturday night, San Francisco 

                                 Year 2004  

About 7:00pm

I drove up to San Francisco.  I left around 5:00pm to get into town around 7:00pm and find a good parking spot.  One would argue that is a pretty good drive to go bar hopping in the city.  Back when I went out for the night life, San Francisco was my designated place.  There was no beating around the bush.  Guys have always been more open to me and it was a place where the leather element was more prominent.  Anyway, I like to have a place besides my home town to leave my mark.

About 8:30pm

I find a place to park.  Parking even this early can be quite the bear in the city.  

I am fully showered and clean for my bar hopping event.  I just need to get into my usual drag for the prowl. 

Tonight I am going more leather than usual.  I have on my blue jeans but I will be putting my leather chaps over them.  I got on my leather motorcycle jacket, leather gloves, my Muir cap and I exchange my sneakers that I drove in for my leather boots.

Being geared up from head to toe, one tends to exude a unique attitude.  It is more than persona.  It is a confidence; a self declaration that you are the baddest mofo in this place and yet there is nothing unique in the observation that every other guy has the exact same uniform, with the same attitude.

Ironically this is what makes the experience a whole vibe. 

9:00pm

I start off at the Lone Star on Harrison St.  I order a soda.  I stay there for about thirty minutes before I migrate to The Eagle.  Folsom is the street my “go to” bars are on.  I make my way around the corner and down the block. 

San Francisco has some lengthy blocks.  Around the corner could be a hike.  These boots aren't the most comfortable but I'll be alright.

This is twenty two years prior to me writing this so my willingness and ability to withstand hours of uncomfortable boots for the sake of vanity was much more a priority then than it is now.

As I walk down Folsom, the traffic of party goers mixed with Leather Daddies and Leather boys is as commonplace as any normal attire.

The casual way kinksters and leathermen exist in the South of Market gives me the presence of finding my spot.

10:00pm ish

I walk into the first bar on Folsom for my bar crawl.  There’s a pretty heavy turnout.  The smooth house grooves fill the atmosphere.  The lights are low but bright enough to make eye contact with my fellow cruisers. 

The beat of the music intensifies as I migrate through the dancefloor.

Thump, thump, thump, thump

The drum of the house song along with the baseline is infectious.  If it doesn't make one get up and dance, it definitely puts each guy out cruising into a unique zone.  As I maneuver my way through the crowd, I feel the leather and flesh of bodies bumping and grinding into mine.

I reach my destination to the other side of the bar.  I'm there for about 15 to 20 minutes.  There are a lot of guys in their leather looking the part, but no action.  I open the back door and walk into the smoking area that is a closed off corridor.  It is almost the length and width of THE ALLEY of the bar I've written about in the past.  Although this is designated for guys to have a smoke, you will find many guys on their knees blowing other guys or against the wall getting railed.

I'm taking in the view.  The guy to my left is watching me.  Im getting aroused by the attention but I don't take it out.

He moves in closer and grabs my bulge.  Because I have my chaps 

Click to continue reading

CLAP

LINK: THE EXODUS

           THE SCARS           

I'm currently out of commission.  Had to get a shot to clear something up.

Needless to say I am unequivocally retiring Prep and going back to condoms.  It is going to change a great deal how long I last as condoms tend to make me lose my erection over a period of time.

If it was just me I'd probably consider still using Prep, but the hardest thing was telling Boss.

He wasn't upset, but seeing his face when he said, "I thought you were more careful," kind of tore into me.

Boss is not the jealous type.  He understands that I enjoy playing with various guys.  He also knows how fastidious I am when it comes to minimizing germs and disease. Although often I can be messy as fuck, clean environments, good hygiene and disease prevention is a big practice for me. And though I should not place so much value on what others think, Boss is the one person whose opinion I value the most.  

As for now I am going to pause on any activity.  It's not as if I was majorly active any way.  However, it only takes one person.  

Sooo. 🤔 How's the weather? 😃 

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

May 3, 2026

Sunday

There really is no place like home.  My dad and the narcissist get along like oil and water.  It's understandable no one can truly get along with this person.  During his annual meeting with his nurse practitioner, we were all interviewed.  It was literally like a comedy skit watching the whole thing.

There were a few missed opportunities in which the narcissist slipped in their criticisms.  Usually I come down hard on myself for not saying anything.  I really didn't have much regret for holding back. It happens so fast that you just don't know what hit you.  This person is so smooth with their digs.  Especially if they are in their nice phase. They act sweet, kind as if they actually might have feelings and then just when you let your guard down, they sneak in with little digs to test the waters.  Depending on the response they begin to escalate.

I have two words:  

Grey rock.

It is usually easier said than done but in this case. It wasn't difficult at all.  I already decided the boxing gloves were staying home.

 Opposed to the usual routine of turning into the wicked witch of the North, South, East and West, this person was eerily nice. 

I've done enough research to understand that this is nothing more than a tactic to attempt to keep me stuck in their venomous web.

There were a few moments where they started going in on what they perceive as my character flaws.  I just gave them my, well nothing.  I gave nothing.  I listened without listening while displaying my blank Stedford Wives stare.

Needless to say I am glad to be back home.  

Today Boss and I are attending an outdoor Celtic festival.  I do enjoy Celtic music to a degree.  This is more his speed than mine.  Culturally we are totally different.  I am more R&B, some Hip Hop, Old School, Jazz, Classical. My musical palate is actually quite eclectic.  However, I was brought up on R&B Soul and Motown.  

Boss is a folkie.  Folk, Bluegrass and artists like Odetta, Pete Seeger and Joan Baez scrambles his playlist.  We have introduce each other to various sounds that broadened our listening pleasure. He's turned me into a Judy Collins lover as I've introduced him to Prince. And of course we both love Van Morrison.

Today is going to be a pretty long day for the both of us but I do look forward to getting out for a bit.  Sundays are my favorite days for relaxing and making the most of the Chill Day.  Although I usually do a good amount of writing and or reading on Sunday, today is going to be our day to enjoy the outdoors and good music.

SOUTHEN CALI

It is coming up on the annual wellness meeting for my dad.  This is the meeting that all caregivers have to attend even though I am not the main caregiver.

Needless to say I am not looking forward to it. Not to be the deadbeat son, but I can care less about going to Southern Cali anymore.  

The fact that I have been painted as the deadbeat,  been gaslit into thinking that I'm problematic, called names, yelled at, and disrespected by the narcissist has made me totally check out.  

In no way am I checking out on my dad (although he's no walk in the park either.) I'm done with the bullshit that comes with dealing with this person.  

No one else stands up to this person.  No one else tells this person what they need to hear. Even if they did it wouldn't change their behavior.  

They try it with me.  Sometimes I don't have the energy and just give in.  Sometimes I tell myself this person is not going to get away with this madness on my watch and match their level of crazy.  What I have learned is that does nothing but makes me exhausted.  There is no competing with a this person's crazy.  

Lately I have chosen another alternative.  Speak my truth and give them the space to accept it or not.  If the person chooses to escalate, I cut it off right at the beginning and let them know I will not engage in this fuckery.  

Fortunately I will only be there for one day.  I am flying out the day prior and coming back a few hours after the meeting.  I am not staying any longer than I have to.

I will be there for my dad the best that I can.  I will help this person out to the best of my ability but I don't take orders from them.  I am not an employee and I will not be disrespected.  

I'm not bringing my boxing gloves to this place.  I am just not going to engage any longer. However, disengaging does not mean not saying what needs to be said. 

AURALISM: ANAL BEADS FOR ZERO

 Zero knew what was in store when I told him to recite what the pink hanky is for.

Blindfolded, I put ear plugs in his ears and turned up the music to throw him off. Slowly working the anal beads in and out, I would increase the size causing a symphony of moaning.