THE DIRTY JOCK

 About three years ago I started a self challenge called The Dirty Jock. I wanted to see how long it would be before the “Eeeeew!” factor kicked in.  It didn’t last long. But I did create a blog that documented my very short lived project as well as covering my infinite fetish of underwear of all kinds. Of course Tighty Whities being my favorite.

You can check out The Dirty Jock.

Maybe if I get enough traffic flow; I will start posting my undies shots there again. Let’s see how it goes.

SON

Culturally growing up, I always addressed my elders as Sir or Ma’am.  Even to this day until they say, “Stop calling me that.”

Likewise it was not uncommon for those older and wiser to address the younger generation as “son.”

From my grand parents to my great uncles and aunts to the lady down the street.  It was just what took place when an elder interacted with the younger adults.  It was endearing and nurturing for both to experience.

When I address any sub as “son” it is meant in the same regard as the dynamic of Teacher / student.  Or that expectation of exchange of respect given and nurturing received in that Teacher / student dynamic I was raised in. 

Although in a role play type of fashion; “Son” is in no way meant to take on an incestuous meaning.  It is not the perception I chose to project, however I also don’t feel it is anyone’s place to shame anyone who chooses to use it in that manner during role play. 

We all have something that may or may not be another’s thing. 

What it comes down to is having fun in our own unique ways.

FACT #9 ROUGH V.S. CREATIVE

                                                                                                                      FACT #9

WORDS

We are all words 

Coming from the mouth 

Of the Great Speaker

 

From His lips He created dust

And from that dust came bones

 

From that very breath of His mouth 

He gave us flesh

And with that flesh came a spirit

 

And now in Two Thousand and whatever it is

We speak

 

And though we speak many words

We often say nothing

 

Sometimes every word from our tongues  

Are as empty as a canyon with no water

 

Sometimes they sting as sharp 

As a double edge sword

 

Other times they are fulfilling manna 

To a hungry soul

 

Words

 

They are who we are

They are what shape our lives

 

So tell me

What do you have to say 

FACT #8

FACT #8

I firmly believe that one is never too old to be boy.  Nor is one too young to be Daddy. (Within reasonable legal situations.)

GEAR UP WEEKEND

Gear Up Weekend is an annual kink camping retreat where guys socialize, play and attend various classes on kink and how to safely engage in various activities. It’s a time to bond and network with other kinksters. This was also my very first event.  I’ve been to a similar camping retreat almost 20 years to this one on the same grounds. (which I will share about in the future.) But Gear Up Weekend left yet another cherry popped in my line of experiences.

Thursday July 13, 2023

5:00pm 

LINKS: THE INITIATION  

             THE MAKING OF DADDY SCRUFF 

             SKY THE SPANDEX BASTARD

            ZERO

           DADDY T

           GEAR UP WEEKEND

            

I arrive at the GearUp Weekend event rather clumsily. 

The day starts with not finding anything I want for the event.  Everything I had strategically placed in my duffel bag got shifted around making it damn near impossible to find anything.  It’s hot and I’m thirsty.  I register in and get my complimentary mug which I’m very much grateful for. 

I pour me some water from the water container.  It’s lukewarm due to the outdoor heat. I swallow a few gulps and throw out the rest of the warm water. Tired feet from numerous trips from the parking lot to my tent,  heat, and unquenched thirst just isn’t the most comfortable situation.  But even with all this going on I’m glad to be here.

I fix my up my tent. As I shuffle to put my stuff in; I drop two of my pillows on the ground and somehow kick a shit load of dust in my tent.  These aren’t disastrous events happening. Honestly I would normally be annoyed but I am so much in a state of calm and have determined whatever happens; good or bad, I’m here.

8:30PM 

We all meet up for the rules and regulations of playing safe. As everyone exits, I run into Zero and his Alpha . This is my first time meeting him. We give each other a great big hug. As I move my body out he continues with this mighty hold.

“He won’t let me go.” I joke to Zero. 

“No I won’t.” He replies with a smile.

It is at that point that I feel my own social awkwardness and realize that it is okay to just fucking hold someone. I’ve been so careful to try not to make anyone uncomfortable with anything I may do. A big one on my list is hugging. 

I have no problem be compassionate and hugging during any type of play. For some reason I’ve never differentiated a passionate bear hug with an erotic embrace leaving me somewhat Leary of crossing specific boundaries. Maybe some of it stems from my slightly puritanical religious indoctrination.  Maybe I’m just not used to lots of physical contact outside of playing with someone. One thing I do know is that small gesture form Alpha Sky opened up a plethora of questions and observations of myself and a charge to let go and not feel I need to pull back because of my conditioning of physical contact. This part is a constant work in progress. 

Around 9:00pm

I’m back I’m in my tent.  I’m laying there as I can hear the person in the tent a few feet from me entertaining someone.

The guy starts off with meditative moans. They are sporadic at this time. 

A few moments later the moans pick up and I can hear them both giggling and chatting. I can’t pick up what they are saying nor do I need to.  I’m just enjoying hearing this visitor do whatever he’s doing to get the owner of that tent to moan.

Into a few minutes

Though his voice is low he is really moaning like crazy. I can hear the rustling of the tent. There is no doubt this guys getting railed. I’m really not trying to eavesdrop but I am without a doubt enjoying what I’m hearing.  I feel myself getting aroused imagining how he’s getting fucked. 

That’s it. I’m getting out my tent to “stretch my legs.” 

As I walk by I see the tent is zipped but the screen is open so one can easily see in. 

The guy has tent owner on his belly face down as he’s plowing him from behind.

The visitor’s body pretty much covers little guys body so most of what I see is visitor’s butt cheeks moving up and down as he thrust into tent owner.

I don’t gawk I just casually look back and take in the image as I walk back from the lodge to my tent. I may have done this three to four times. strictly for “exercise” of course.

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MY FIRST HORSE MARKET

 January 21, 2023

Saturday

4:39pm

LINKS: 

THE INITIATION  

THE MAKING OF DADDY SCRUFF

DADDY T

LB

HORSE MARKET

I spent a great time driving throughout the day and did some errands. But I finally made it to the hotel where I was staying.  I spent some time unpacking and then sat down to relaxed for a few minutes. The event took place at 6pm but it was just an 8 minute walk away according to google map.

5:35pm

I jumped in the shower, got dressed and spent the remaining time obsessing over exactly what looked better as if I was preparing for a prom.  I was sure I had enough time for my last few minutes to primp as it was 5:53pm according to the clock in the hotel. As much as I spent primping, I settled for my usual wardrobe; leather gloves, black ball cap, black t-shirt and jeans.  

I confidently pressed my iPad to shut down.

"6:03pm" came up before shutting down.

"Fuck !"

The stupid clock in the hotel was behind!

I ran out, made sure I had my printout of my code to get in along with my COVID vaccination card and I.D.

There was a small line of four guys waiting at the door.  After a few minutes, they let us in.

I've been to plenty of play parties, sex clubs etc. in my day so it was not like I was new to this.  I did feel a few butterflies as I got to the counter.

The crew checked my I.D.  He scanned my code and gave us all a bottle of lube with a wristband with a number on it.  That wristband number was both for checking in items as well as the number they marked on a part of your body to vote on as "Best in show."

The short version being :

Every stallion and mare had a number.  The stallion roamed around and fucked a mare or mares of his choice and voted on his favorite 3.

The stable hands (the assistances to the mares) pick their favorite stallion based on how attentive the stallions were to the mares' needs.

There was an up stairs and downstairs.  Upstairs was an area where the stallions (Tops) were.  Downstairs Behind the closed door, was a room for the mares (Bottoms).  We were kept separate until time for play.

As I went up into the room with the other stallions; my nerves kicked into overdrive.  It felt quite intimidating being in the room with so many hot men.   And of course with each person that came up; the attention was drawn to them.  So I couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling of being sized up.  But hell! I did it myself to each joining member!

After I stripped to my jockstrap, and was ready, I was guided to the back wall to get a photo of my body with the number assigned to me.

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50

Written sometime in 2021

For some reason I just knew I was going to love my 50s.

I loved my 30s.  That was the beginning of my sexual revolution. It was my sexual exploration.  

 My 40s were definitely not my favorite time.  It was when my hair started turning gray.  I started packing on the pounds; all 35 of them to be exact.  The once slim beautiful Black guy with the dark black goatee and black buzz cut was changing.  I was starting to look old.  I was actually feeling old.  

More than just the physical, I realized I just wasn't happy.  My relationship with my partner was not very healthy and I was in a friendship with someone who expected more out of me as a friend than I could give.

But I told myself when I turn fifty I am going to make changes.  This year I made the conscience decision to work on my relationship with my partner which has been so much better.  I made very clear what my personal boundaries are with my friend.  He wasn't happy with my declaration.  As a matter of fact he stopped calling me altogether.  He was the closest friend I had. 

 It hurt to know that everything was fine when we were friends on his terms but when it was time for him to respect my terms he bounced.

The  beautiful thing however is; though it does get lonely sometimes, I am in a better place. I realize that I don't have to settle just because that is my main friend at the time.  His leaving helped me to see just where his heart was.  My relationship with my partner is better.  And even though I have some physical limitations due to a recent injury, I am getting my weight back down.

I have more grays than ever.   Also, looking at my face I am starting to see small wrinkles and creases pop up.  But I'm not half as freaked out about it as I was in my 40s.  For some reason I seem to be getting a lot more flirtatious looks at the grocery store as of late.

I'm not saying 50 is some magical number; but I do believe as I get older I am finding myself caring less about some of the silly crap I worried about ten years ago.  Hell! Ten days ago.

 

COCKRING

The cock ring is always a favorite tool in bating.

The way it grips tightly under the testicles hugging the cock, gives my erections a stiffness like no other device.

There are times there’s so much blood flowing down there; I literally feel like it’s going to explode. 

Often times it’s not about the orgasm but the surreal feeling that such arousal brings feeling the stimulation and witnessing its tumescence.