from an email to a friend

for anyone who still comes here and gives a rat's ass:  yeah, i've landed safe and sound in a fine new spot, two canyons to the right of the old one.  me being me, what should've been a simple, straightforward move turned into a clusterfuck of fairly major proportions, and i've got stories, but not tonight.  tonight, i'm offering up a little insight into what makes mkf tick, as recounted a few weeks ago to someone who knows me well.


he got it; you probably won't.



you haven't seen me lately, but trust me, age, blues and booze have all taken their toll, most noticeably in the face, which probably explains why i can now go for stretches of several days without a single viable new hit. needless to say, my time spent aimlessly yanking the one-armed bandit in hopes of hitting a triple-diamond is starting to add up.

and then, for no good reason, i suddenly hit a winning streak. like this week, for instance.

tuesday night was the young slutty bottom who was so cute i overlooked the fact that he was high and drove the 25 miles to south gate in order to fuck him. but, of course, fucking him wasn't enough--i had to break him. i knew i was succeeding when his previously open-mouthed kisses became little pecks--i said, "you're holding back now", and he replied, "yeah, because you've gotten me to open up and talk, make me believe you're actually listening, and now i'm starting to see you differently", and i said, "yeah, i'm listening--tell me more." and, of course, he did, and by the time i made my escape at dawn, his kisses were open-mouthed again, and he held my arms so i wouldn't leave.

thursday night was a slim, pretty 19-year-old japanese exchange student who insisted he wanted only a massage from gaijin daddy. yeah. i went to north hollywood and got him--he wouldn't look at me--brought him back to my place. at first he would take off only his shirt, which was fine--i eventually worked him down to his tighty-whities, rubbing and kneading every toned, exposed inch of him (i think it was the foot massage that finally broke him), then peeled off the underroos without resistance, poured on more oil and worked my fingers into places (and in ways) he wasn't expecting--or maybe he was, who knows. by the time he was begging me to fuck him a second time, i was ready to take him home.

tonight, i drove to alhambra--yeah, alhambra--for an honest-to-god straight guy, because i sensed he might be the holy grail. latino, 38, tall, solid, manly, handsome and recently divorced, with snapshots of his kids tucked into his dresser mirror. he was very businesslike, stripped down, laid on the bed, told me to keep my clothes on and my hands to myself--he only wanted a blowjob.

so i gave him one.

about halfway through, he started whimpering and moving, and his hands, which had been held stiffly by his side up until then, started caressing my head and face, his legs wrapping around my body. i reached into my pocket, fished out the lube, squirted some on a finger and started rubbing his crack as i continued giving the best head he'd ever had. he tensed, asked me what i was doing (but not with much fight in him). i said, "just go with it--i'm gonna do something your wife never did for you", spread his legs, and started with first my pinkie, then ring finger, then finally my middle finger--he was moaning by then--and then massaged and sucked him into the first pillow-stifling, screaming orgasm he'd ever had in his life.

immediately afterwards, i pulled out and away from him, stood up, wiped off and very quickly reverted to my masculine-fag persona, talking to him like a regular guy as he shuddered and recovered, as if what we'd just done hadn't taken place, and started in with the standard guttermorality post-coital interview.

turns out i was only the second guy who had ever touched him (the first, a couple months before, hadn't worked out, because he was too nervous and the guy hadn't played him well). see, after his divorce, a married friend of his suggested he do what he himself had done: place a craigslist ad for a gay cocksucker, because what the hell, they knew how to do it (his friend's name is javier--i told him to give him my number).

he kept asking, in wonder, "where were your teeth? i never felt 'em--my wife always scraped my dick with her teeth." i told him she probably did that on purpose so he wouldn't keep bugging her for blowjobs, and assured him that gay guys are the only ones who really like sucking dick.

and then i played my ace.

"trust me, i know--i was straight until i was 34, and i never got a decent blowjob from a woman. but that could just be because i'm kinda big."

of course he had to know how big, and i reluctantly took it out, showed him.  he reflexively reached out, jerked his hand back.  i told him it was ok, he could touch it if he wanted. he tentatively took it in his hand, and it started to grow--he couldn't take his eyes off it, and his grip grew tighter, he wouldn't let go. he said, "oh my god, i've never seen another hard dick except in porn--i can't believe how thick it is. what's it like to have one like this?"

i said, casually, "would you like to find out?"

well, yeah, he would, so i sat down on the bed to his left, took his right hand and wrapped it around my hard dick, squirted some lube on it, said, "jack it like it's yours."

he did, perfectly, and i came quickly, in huge spurts (looking into his eyes the whole time, imagining him leaning in to kiss me--that'll happen in time, if i play my cards right). he was in awe, said he'd never seen anything like it, called me a stud, conferred upon me alpha status, said he couldn't wait to tell his friend javier about what he did.

he works nearby in santa monica, gets off at 3--plenty of time before i go to work at 5.  i'm thinking three more times and i'll have him.

i'm not a whore so much as i am a safecracker, rob--a locksmith, a houdini. for me, people are puzzles to solve, codes to break. and then i move on.

evil in its own way, ain't it?