let's take a break from racism (both mine and everybody else's) for a minute and talk about something else.
couple weeks ago, in response to one of my trick posts, faithful reader noblesavage challenged me to write about my less remarkable hookups--you know, the everyday sex life of mkf. i blew him off because i couldn't imagine a way to make such a thing interesting.
but then tonight as i was on my phone, horny and flipping through the hangers, debating whether to go out and get something new or just throw on some old thing, it suddenly hit me: here, contained within this sleek, shiny little box is not only a meticulous record of my sexual activity for the last three years, but a post, goddammit.
i remember back when i got my first iphone and naively opted not to include that newfangled text messaging in my plan--that lasted about a week. seems laughable now, because today i live and die by it.
be warned--this post may set a record for the longest post in the history of blogger (which probably says a lot more about mkf than it does about blogger).
* * * * *
hot, ripped-up, tattooed lil' skater dude, but rick can't host and he won't make the time commitment necessary to come back to my place, so we're reduced to fucking in this open-air restaurant near his place that thoughtfully leaves its restrooms unlocked after it closes. it's always fun, but i'm getting a little old for that shit.
next.
lemme tellya, there's nothing like a boy who knows that when he graduates from UCLA in june his dick-loving ass is headed straight back to saudi arabia and an arranged marriage, so he'd better get it while he can. but i've been dipping into that well a little too often lately, so
next--and speaking of which:
the other thing about arab boys is their complete and utter lack of sentimentality when it comes to sex--they're hot, but don't ever fall for one. i'm looking for a little more tonight, though, so
next.
it's really not that big, but getting into fort knox is easier than breaking into this boy, and i really don't have the energy to work that particular combination tonight.
next.
hot asian guy--body like bruce lee, flexible as a gymnast, lets me play him like a stradivarius--incredible sex. problem is, johnny always let me know in subtle and not-so-subtle ways that he was tricking down whenever he was with me, and i knew it was only a matter of time before i'd get the above kiss-off.
i bided my time, knowing that, sooner or later
he'd come back (they always come back), but i'm not in the mood to be somebody's compromise fuck tonight, so
next.
it's true--in addition to my other sterling qualities, i am a brilliant conversationalist in the sack. but not tonight.
next.
ah, carlos 2--a perennial favorite. looks like he just spent the last five years lifting weights in prison, and a total top--until he sees me coming, that is. only available on saturdays, though.
next.
the reason carlos 3 fell outta rotation was because the last time we got together he kept texting me obsessively while i was on my way to his place, as if me pulling over every two minutes to answer him was gonna get me there faster. i'm still irritated, so no soup for him.
next.
you remember him, right? by the time i finally got him calmed down and into bed, i realized what a waste of time, charm and effort it had been. oh well, everybody hits a dry hole every now and then.
next.
it's really not that big. seriously, it's not.
next.
the thing about poor henry is, he'll never understand that a great smile, a great personality and all the gym muscles in the world won't make me wanna re-fuck a guy who refuses to clear the decks first. i even went so far as to give him a third chance. there won't be a fourth.
next.
in his quest to replace that high, david has gone down a dark rabbit hole in the last few months; i can't save him from it and i'm not in the mood to follow him there tonight, so
next.
show me a beautiful man, and i'll show you a man who's bored with him.
next.
little shane (who only rates a slot in my contacts so i don't reply to one of his incessant texts accidentally)--you gotta give the boy points for persistence. maybe one of these days i'll be feeling masochistic enough to invite him over for another roll in the hay (and a smoke, of course). it sure as hell ain't gonna happen tonight, though.
next.
this kid--i swear to god i had no idea how young he was that first time until he turned the lights on afterwards and i saw the hannah montana posters on the walls. he's a wild little fuck, but this roleplay business he insists on is getting totally outta hand, and i just don't have the energy tonight. where do they learn this shit at that age, anyway?
next.
sweet and vulnerable, lean, muscular basketball-player build, in his junior year at cal state dominguez hills, has no idea how drop-dead gorgeous he is, wants to get attached, impervious to hints he should find a boy his own age. and since i know if i keep seeing tony i'm either gonna hurt him or corrupt him, i stopped replying to his texts.
and holy shit, he just texted me as i wrote this.
next.
slim, argentinian polo-playing playboy-type--as suave as ricardo montalban outta bed, and a model of utter depravity between the sheets. if he could leave it at that, we could have a perfectly nice time, but no, he wants to bring a u-haul to every hookup. once and for all, gregorio, i am not dating material.
next.
yeah? then why aren't you answering your goddam phone?
next.
i could make this post even longer by putting up a couple dozen like this one--young, mostly beautiful, ruined bottomless pits all--but it's just too damn depressing.
next.
funny story about peter--first night i met him, he showed up fresh from the faultline in full twink-leather regalia. i stripped him outta everything but his wrist cuffs and the one around his ankle, which had a little red, glowing light--"kids and their disco-wear", i thought, and forgot all about it until later, when, since said ankle was propped up against my left ear, i heard it beeping before he did. when i mentioned this to him, he dropped his poppers, yelled, "shit! i left my charger at home!", threw me off and levitated outta that bed like he'd been called to jesus, grabbed his clothes as he ran down the stairs and was outta there in a screeching puff of smoke before i ever figured out what the beeping ankle bracelet must've been.
he's been back since and he's lots of fun, but i really don't feel like hiding all my valuables tonight, so
next.
who the fuck is rutul?
next.
and that's the thing--he literally means all night. i'm tellin ya, i could hook a dildo up to a jackhammer, shove it up this boy's ass, turn it on, go to work, come home, turn it off and he'd be, like, "why are you stopping?"
next.
seriously, it's not that big.
* * * * *
i'm stopping this nonsense only because it's almost six in the morning--trust me, i could go on, and on, and on.
reading this, you might think i'm some kinda invincible sex god or something, but i'm not--i'm just some schlubby middle-aged guy you wouldn't look at twice if you passed me on the street.
and it's not that big. really.
3 comments:
My guess is that you're not THAT schlubby if so many of them want you back; and if you ARE, then you must have skills and equipment that render schubbyness irrelevant.
I thoroughly enjoyed the post. It is a bit depraved, but that's guttermorality for you. Some bloggers pretend and put on an adult rating. Guttermorality has earned that Adult's only rating by being something you are not going to take home to mother, much less show the kids.
You skimped on the young guys who get high and look for someone to fuck them. I know it's boring to repeat, but my own estimation is that fills up a large quotient of the craig's list advertisements you seem to know how to scroll through with such skill.
You know, you never did tell else who you finally settled on for that evening's tryst.
I also did not know you had THAT many regulars. I thought that it was one and done with you most of the time.
Having spent enough time looking for sex myself in my younger years, I can only imagine just how much time in your life it has taken to build up such a reserve of available suitors. During that time, you could have done something else slightly more productive, like build your own Watts Towers.
I'm just guessing that of Rick, Hayil, Nazim, Jose, John, Grant, Carlos 2, Carlos 3, Carlos 4, Rico, Henry, David, Jason, Shane, Christian, Antony, Gregorio, Ariel, Chris, Peter, Rutul, Gustavo, or Manny -- not a single one of these guys is over 40 much less older than you.
Let me know if I'm wrong.
But here's the real moral of the story: You are the only one I know who could write an intelligent and thoughtful book on sex and, in particular, fucking another man and the ins and outs of men getting horny and thinking with their dick. And as you relate, it's an all too common story.
You know, Even though it's been a long time, i STILL get jealous!.. :-)
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