strong sense

you're the piano man

2012-02-27T06:04:00.000Z

more than a song

talking heads

2012-02-25T16:24:00.000Z

It’s all on the face. Nine men, no need to show more than their face; on the contrary, I find it exciting the way it is.

incredible Hulks

2012-02-24T05:59:00.002Z

burly bear...

2012-02-23T18:16:00.004Z

...cum-shooting, all for his young man; his big hand resting on the slender thigh.

digitus quartus

2012-02-22T16:14:00.002Z

I prefer him without the goatee. But, I have to admit that the (wedding?) ring in his right hand is intriguing and appealing, at least to me. It makes him 10 times sexier.

two years

2012-02-21T05:45:00.002Z

Two years of Strong Sense. Two years of blogging against the existing, current trend of the so-called sexual counterrevolution; of celebrating sexuality, which is life itself. And more: sexuality, by itself, makes a political statement; it has the power to send the strongest political message.

size

2012-02-20T05:01:00.009Z

It was interesting to observe the reaction of the men at the club on Saturday night. A man stood on the corner, next to the entrance of the maize that wound through the booths. He was an average looking man; slim-bodied, with an attractive face, goateed and side-bearded. The man had the most astounding cock. A big and thick rod with a tremendous cock-head; similar to a small fist spotted by an outstanding and large cock-hole. His ball-sacks made a perfect match to the shape and size of the extraordinary dick; large, thick-skinned, round and full. They seemed ready to eject with force a ripe volume of man-juice through the long shaft of the man’s penis.

The man leaned with his back on the wall, holding his magnificent tool, stroking, putting his palm underneath, supporting and displaying its weight with a slight up and down motion of his hand. Passers-by decreased their pace, or stopped astonished, to admire this amazing manifestation of manhood. Many touched and felt the large cock; some lowered their heads to touch it with their lips or taste it with their tongue; a small few came on their knees and opened their mouth to briefly suck part of the bulky cock-head. My impression was that all of them enjoyed this size-novelty, they wanted to pay their respects, but no one was willing to take chances and try full-play with the man. The endowed man was definitely the king of the mountain, but kind of lonely at the top.

Finally, this man approached; tall, heavy shouldered and hairy. The second man stood face to face with the big-cock man. The noteworthy muscular body of the newcomer made a big contrast to the average complexion of the, by nature, gifted man. The two men started talking; it looked as if the muscular man commented or asked questions, while the other answered, using his hands to exhibit his stupendous tool and balls. At the end, the muscular man made a courteous gesture with his hand, as if asking for permission, to which the big-cock man responded with a “go-ahead” gesture.

The muscular man came to his knees and started working the colossal cock and balls with obedience and seriousness. Systematic and disciplined cock-worshiping and not brief, superficial pilgrimage; a serious effort to service with his mouth the massive sphere of the cock-head and part of the thick supporting rod. It was gratifying to see the broad-shouldered, leather-harnessed man to grab firmly with his hand the solid, big and hard dick, while his tongue traveled all the way from the base of the balls to the dark cock-whole, fucking it with its tip. He was methodical in his task; another serious and successful blow-job effort followed every tongue-job.

The muscular man stroke the huge cock close to his face, when it erupted. Large and continuous flow-loads of thick but fluid man-cum cascaded on his face, rolling down his cheeks, chest and thighs, all the way down to the floor. More than a few eruptions, one following another, all spewing momentous amounts of man-cream. A circle of excited men surrounded the playing couple; they all witnessed the extraordinary scene with big wonder.

the practicality of narrow corridors

2012-02-19T06:16:00.000Z

bearded

2012-02-17T13:29:00.004Z

"...The theory of sexual selection has been used to explain a number of human anatomical features. These include rounded breasts, facial hair, pubic hair and penis size..."

(from Wikipedia)

butt and thighs

2012-02-16T19:24:00.006Z

love these thighs – thick and sturdy

police brutality!

2012-02-15T17:47:00.002Z

eyeglasses...

2012-02-14T20:40:00.002Z

...do make the man, after all.

muscle-man with buddy

2012-02-12T08:13:00.010Z

The muscle-man lay on his back on the bed in my bedroom. He was about 60 years old; he had the body of a working class man: short, muscle built; not very hairy, almost smooth. Rich grey-white hair covered his head. He lay with his legs spread, his head rested on the pillow against the head of the bed. The soles of his feet pressed against my thighs, as I knelt on the bed, finger-fucking him. At the same time, I was going down on him, sucking his cock, big and thick and hard as a rock.

We were three: my buddy was on his knees, standing above the face of the muscle-man, feeding him with cock. I took turns sucking both cocks. From time to time, my buddy licked the chunky nipples of the muscle-man. Every time I blew my buddy’s dick, a slight growl came out of the muscle-man’s throat. I pressed my thumb inside his tight hole, touching his hard butt with my fingers. Me and my buddy exchanged glances; we smiled contentedly at each other. The muscle-man had totally lost it; it seemed as if he tripped from the strength of the pleasure; with his eyes closed, a blissful serenity shone on his face.

The muscle-man whispered that he was ready to cum; he confessed that he wanted to unload on me. We changed positions; I crawled and lay with my back against the bed; the muscle-man and my buddy stroke their big cocks above me. They shot two thick loads on my chest; simultaneously, a forceful orgasm sent potent convulsions that gripped my whole body.

nipple-work

2012-02-11T08:02:00.003Z

When it comes to nipple-work, he is his own boss. When it comes to a hand-job, he leaves the work to his partner.

home after work…

2012-02-09T19:31:00.004Z

taking his time, pleasing his man

SOPA and give me a PIPA

2012-02-08T14:56:00.004Z

For the case you didn’t know, SOPA is one way to say “shut up” in greek. Also, PIPA is one way to say “blowjob”.

PS Good to see that Mature and Bear Men Hideaway is up and running again!

the postman rings

2012-02-07T13:12:00.011Z

There was a card left in his P.O. Box: You have received an oversized mail piece. Please check at counter. He turned around and walked towards the postal clerks working behind the counter. He was still looking on the card when he heard a friendly and masculine call: “May I help you sir?” He raised his glance to meet the voice. The postman stood in front of the counter to the left of the sitting clerks, with his eyes fixed on him. His brain scanned and registered without delay: crew-cut hair cut, hazel eyes, roman nose, moustache; a little less than 10 years younger than him; stocky-muscular complexion; navy blue short-sleeve shirt; a well-fitted belt around his waist. For a split of a second he stood there, absent-minded, looking at the handsome postman. “Can I help you sir?” repeated the postman with polite persistence. He gathered himself; he approached the man and handed him the card with the notification and the code number.

“Let me check for you sir,” said the postman. He took the card and walked behind the counter at the end of the big room, towards the shelves with the big parcels stacked upon them. He searched, grabbed a box from the shelf and returned. He stood behind the counter and left the box on it.

“It’s from out of town, from my cousin, she likes to send me goodies”, he said spontaneously to the postman. Straight away, he felt a little embarrassed for allowing an exhibition of slender familiarity between himself and the postman.

“Very kind of her, sir” replied the postman, “let me fill this short form for you, as you had the package delivered outside your P.O. Box. You’ll sign it for me; then you will be ready to go”.

He spelled his name and the postman filled the form. Mesmerized, he looked at the wooded valley of the postman’s chest behind the top two unbuttoned buttons of his shirt; the bulge of his bicep; his strong wrist.

...

He was a man in his mid-fifties, single for the time being. There were the bars, the internet and the sauna. However, during recent years a strange response had developed, a kind of saturated reluctance, every time he ventured in the venues to meet people. He did not resist, he had always been honest with his feelings; he forced nothing on himself. The world around him was full of handsome men who still stimulated his fantasy and desire. He chose unexpected chance to be his guide; he was not only ok with this, it also made him happy. Desire was the undeniable prerequisite for meeting someone and he could not act differently. “What will be, will be,” he said to himself.

...

Several months had passed; he went, regularly, to the post office to check his P.O. Box. But no chance with the handsome postman. He didn’t see him again; he had forgotten all about him.

Yesterday, towards the end of the workday, while at his office, he received a call at his cell phone.

A friendly and masculine voice asked for him over the phone. After he confirmed, the voice said “Sir, I am calling from the post office, I work in distribution. You have received an oversized mail piece. I took the courage to get your phone number from your filed contact information. I am sure you remember me, sir”.

He remained silent, for a split second. “Of course… I am expecting the package… and I do remember you. Thank you very much, I shall come and pick it tomorrow, during lunch time”.

The postman introduced himself. “I am off-duty tomorrow Mr … But, for sure, you can come and pick it anytime it is convenient for you. A colleague will be here to assist you”.

The postman had called him with his name.

“Well… maybe… then I should drop by the day after tomorrow… to pick it up”.

“Sounds good Mr …, there is no rush. You can come by after work. I will be working late on Wednesday”.

He thanked the postman and he hanged up the phone. Wednesday, after work then. Two days and one big question mark.

Fantasy and desire rushed back to him; not unexpectedly. Hitting him, full-blast, on the face and inside; He felt the most welcomed ambiguity, filled with the joy of the greatest possibility.

a walk in the dunes

2012-02-06T17:06:00.003Z

What lurks behind; not only wishful thinking.

Mr Never on Sunday

2012-02-05T06:16:00.002Z

hanging soft and big

2012-02-03T15:44:00.004Z

the forgotten guard

2012-02-02T19:19:00.002Z

Yannis Tsarouchis, 1957

a man for all seasons

2012-02-01T15:15:00.001Z

All kinds of mood show on Allen Silver’s face (of Hot Older Male); all during the shooting of a single scene. Calmness, genuine contentment as he looks into the eyes of his partner, lust as they kiss, wild pleasure, tension as he concentrates while fucking his lover. But most appealing is that bestial, kind of lost, animal look of his, with lips a little open and some spit wetting the lower one; all these at the moment that cum-shots spring out of his cock-hole, ready to hit the face and chest of his man.

life-force

2012-01-30T10:04:00.008Z

I opened the door of the shower room and saw him across the room, sitting on the wide marble slab. His muscular back was turned against me; blurry through the mist of warm and soothing steam. I saw his triceps in tension, as they held the weight of his massive body. He leaned backwards; in front of him was a man on his knees, blowing his cock. I approached, and when they saw me, the big musclebear laid his body on the slab, his legs and feet still hanged out, as the other man continued sucking him. He looked at me and raised his hand towards me. I loosened my towel and climbed on the warm slab; I looked into his eyes and lowered my head towards his face; he put his hand behind my head and we kissed; then I moved my face towards his chest; my tongue worshipped his hairy pecs and turned-on, hard nipples. He groaned. The man who sucked the bear got up and, with a polite gesture of his hand, offered me to taste the big bear’s cock. On my knees, I sucked the juicy cockhead; the musclebear raised his body and held my shoulders. He groaned once again, loudly. Then he pulled me up, we kissed and he grabbed both our cocks together and stroked them. He warned, in excited voice, that he was getting ready to shoot; I felt both cocks exploding, spewing thick cum-globs on our bodies. Our lips remained sealed, my tongue pumped life-force from the strength I held tightly in my arms.

We showered, then into the sauna room, then into my room. We talked. He was bisexual, he said, 32 years old, he had a girlfriend. But he missed the company of men. He was confused. I held him and told him not to be harsh on himself.

Later, in the showers, I sat on the stool under the water; he held me firmly from the head and my shoulder, standing above me; he released a second load, another full cum-load, on my chest, which I received with closed eyes and unprecedented gratitude.

full suit

2012-01-29T06:28:00.001Z

shirt and tie

2012-01-27T06:25:00.004Z

the look of love

2012-01-25T05:34:00.002Z

Dreamy-watery and grateful eyes. How can’t you not fall in love, looking down at his handsome face?

Christmas slumber

2012-01-23T04:28:00.005Z

This story appeared exclusively in the free, subscriber only, special Christmas issue of ALL BEAR. It was a way to say “thank you” from Colin and the rest of the contributors to the magazine; a special “thank you” to all those who showed their support to ALL BEAR over the past two years. A collector’s issue.

I needed some time away from work and the city, so I decided to spend Christmas Holiday alone in the small country house, a place I go mostly during the summer. I was out of wine. So late afternoon on Christmas Eve, I drove to the next village, further above, before the road reaches the top of the mountain. There is a man there who sells wine, from his own small vineyard. I saw his pickup truck in the yard, but the winery was closed; I walked and knocked on the house door but there was no answer. After I called, he appeared from the back of the house; he looked very masculine in his wool cap, with his broad shoulders and his heavy flannel shirt. He looked surprised to see me. We talked some; he said that “snow might fall tonight”. He stopped, looked at me for a split second and continued thinking aloud: “So…here alone, getting ready for Christmas supper…but what about today?”

I accepted the invitation.

We talked a lot at dinner. He is always busy during the summer and we never had time to say much, more than some chat. He told stories about himself. His childhood there and that life in the city was not for him. Three years of married life, no children, divorce. After that he came back to the place he grew up. In his mid 50’s these days, in peace and – he presumed - happy.

I reached for the wine to refill the glasses; he reached from my wrist and held me. Firmly. “My job,” he said. Silence followed as he looked at me in the eye, with his hand holding me tightly. Three, maybe four, seconds passed; I did not react. More than enough for me to get the message and respond. A mutual, silent understanding was reached.

I helped to clean the table while he made coffee. As he added logs to the fire, he looked up, outside the window. “You’ll stay here tonight,” he said in a calm and imposing way, “it’s already snowing at the top”. Then he sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and I followed. Some talk again, while he unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, looking at the growing flames. He pulled his leg on the sofa, turned his body towards me and leaned comfortably on his back. An obvious invitation; no invisible barriers; his body was there for me to reach. I hesitated but the brief uneasiness was broken when his hand held mine. Lightly this time. I moved closer, closed my eyes and kissed him. I felt the roughness of his face on my face and smelled the musky manly smell of his skin. A strong desire to dive into this rough and olfactory sense overwhelmed me and my hand reached for his crotch. He unzipped his fly. Still with my eyes closed, I felt the release of a thick, fleshy and warm cascade of cock and balls. I knelt in front of the sofa to work on his erection. He took off his shirt and I saw the barrel of his chest, all covered by grey-white wool, all the way down to his stomach. The hair on his pecs was spotted by the chunky ellipses of his nipples.

We moved on the carpet, to be close to the fire. He made me lay on my back and took pleasure in undressing me slowly. With his eyes fixed on my body, I saw his lips moving; he said something but I couldn't hear a thing. I saw the volume of his shoulders silhouetting against the glow of the flames; the hair on his strong forearms shone. He lowered his head and he plunged his face into my cock and balls. He started blowing me, savoring with force my manhood, growling with contentment and relish. He gulped my dick all the way in, my cock-head pressed against his throat. Then he held my thighs up and moved his face down to my butt; he licked my hole meticulously, preparing me.

Suddenly he stood up, left the room and appeared holding some condoms. He put on his reading glasses and looked on the wrappers. “Always need to check the expiration date around here,” he laughed.

“Just go slow,” I pleaded as his cock entered my ass, his fist against my mouth, giving me something to suck and make for the pain as his rod pushed, unhurriedly, inside me.

After I relaxed, it felt great; he was exceptionally good. I sucked his fingers, my fingers on the fleece of his chest hair and on the hardness of his nipples.

...

He brought pillows and a heavy blanket and we slept by the fire. The pillow had his smell. I slept cocooned inside his arms, legs and chest. He got up to feed the fire; pretending I was asleep, I glimpsed at his massive and mature body; his ball-sac hanged heavy as he bent to place wood on the diminishing fire. He came back; after he rubbed his dick against my body, I felt his cum released in thick jolts on my buttocks and lower back; he pressed his face on my neck, his lips on my shoulder. I heard him whispering, the moment the warm flow came out of his hard cock; I felt his whole body in slight tension and his effort not to wake me up.

We slept again and I woke up by the first morning light, confused by my surroundings. I heard him breathing in peaceful slumber. I remembered that it was Christmas Day; I felt that there was nowhere in the world I would rather be, this particular day. This was the place, under the blankets, by the fire, on the carpet with him. Hearing him breathing, I fell back asleep to join his slumber.

thick

2012-01-22T05:52:00.004Z

Thighs, calves and cock. For some reason his big semi-hard cock, turns me on more than a full erection. A big hanging cock bouncing around.

brute continued

2012-01-20T05:43:00.002Z

Another shot, seconds later, showing the full load.

Or, perhaps, a new cum-shot.

bartending

2012-01-19T14:35:00.004Z

The bearded face of the man fucking, makes a nice contrast with his smooth broad shoulders and chest.

still swinging the bat

2012-01-18T16:05:00.010Z

John from the U.S.A. sent to me this story. I asked for his permission to post it in this blog. Quite an interesting story.

Little story I would like to tell you since Strong Sense has such intimate and loving stories. I met a man on Silverdaddies.com. He said his name was Jake and that he was 80 years old. We agreed to meet at a nearby McDonald's for coffee. As I was placing my order I heard my name and turned to see an older man looking at me. His whole body language spoke of expected rejection, hunched shoulders, eyes downcast, no smile. But we went to a table and I sat next to him and rubbed the inside of his thigh. "However your day has been I am going to make it better", I said. So then he relaxed. The McDonald's was about ten miles from his home so I know he had driven to it. Finally he said that he had a confession to make - he was not 80 but 91! He lied in his profile because no one wants to meet a man so old. I said that I was amazed. Still driving at 91! So he followed me home and we had nice relaxed friendly sex, oral - but with lots of biography added. Will probably see him again next week. For 91 he still swings a thick hard bat.

Very intriguing. I have deep respect for older gay men; the amount of experience they have gathered is something to be appreciated by all younger men. As a young man, I was fortunate to have a mentor; a mature man who taught me how to master my sexual self and how to harness my impulse to get the most out of it, for myself and my partners.

At any case, if you wish to share, anonymously, some of your experiences with the rest of the readers of this blog, do not hesitate to send it to me via e-mail.

strongsense2010@gmail.com

Kalos kagathos

2012-01-17T04:44:00.007Z

I am a big fan. This post is more a comment on the way he talks: direct, simple and calm. Man talk. Reserved politeness and assertiveness; the right combination of both. I wonder whether it shows when you don’t speak the language.

καλὸς κἀγαθός

See more of him here.

sexy and real as life

2012-01-16T13:22:00.002Z

ALL BEAR issue 13 is out, sexy and real as regular life; with all the regular features, plus a non-regular one, a model from the Yoga Bear Studio; a feature that is going to become regular.

an exceptional moment

2012-01-15T08:48:00.010Z

The cop tried to keep his body upright, slightly bending. I touched his muscular buttocks and caressed his skin, all the way down his firm thighs. He leaned forward a little, over the bed, with hands against the wall, to support his weight. I pushed my cock into his ass, forced its way slowly through the tight man-hole. He groaned. I felt his broad shoulders with my hands. He held his cock in his hand, a humongous thick and hard rod. In front of him, a young man sat on the bed, no more than 25 years old. The young man grabbed the enormous basket - cock and balls - with both hands; then, he took the big dick into his mouth. The cop said something; it felt good, he said, to have his hole filled with dick and his dick feeding a sweet mouth; to have his big cock as hard as it could ever get, while he was getting fucked. We played like this and after a while the cop asked me for a brake. I sat on the bed, next to the young man, and we shared blowing the cop’s solid-hard cock.

Later we moved to the shower room. All three of us under the water; I stood behind the cop, washed his head and rubbed his back with lather, as the young man kept giving head to him. I bit his ear, tenderly; kissed his neck and shoulder; he kept growling from pleasure. Two other men came in and stood watching; the first, in his early forties with an attractive face; the second, an impressive older man with the massive hairy chest of someone who had been doing bodybuilding for years. I turned the water off. The cop leaned on me and I held his body, as his hands reached for the newcomers. He raised his face towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. The two men brought their faces to the cop’s chest and started sucking his nipples, while the young man went on blowing his cock. Somehow, the whole scene became too intense from the pleasure and, even though I wanted it to last longer, it didn’t happen. As I touched the burly and hairy pecs of the older man, my cock burst in spasms, releasing a stream flow of cum on the firm buttock of the cop.

I left the group of men and went to the opposite corner of the shower room. I pulled my self together and showered. Soon enough, through the buzzing rush of hot water over my head and ears, I heard the chamber echoing loud with the masculine voice of the cop, who groaned, reaching orgasm. I felt it was a shame that I was not a part of the man group anymore; to have missed and not to have shared with them this exceptional moment.

its most blissful right

2012-01-14T07:22:00.007Z

"...Here, in the love which, with an intolerable mixture of contempt, desire, and curiosity, they call “sensual,” here indeed are to be found the worst results of that vilification of earthly life which Christianity has felt obliged to engage in. Here everything is distorted and disowned, although it is from this deepest of all events that we come forth, and have ourselves the centre of our ecstasies in it. It seems to me, if I may say so, more and more incomprehensible that a doctrine which puts us in the wrong in that matter, where the whole creation enjoys its most blissful right, should be able, if not anywhere to prove its validity, at least to assert itself over a wide area.

…

We are anyway—do not forget it—entirely in the province of guiltlessness. —The terrifying thing is that we possess no religion in which these experiences, being so literal and palpable as they are (for: at the same time so inexpressible and so intangible), may be lifted up into the god, into the protection of a phallic deity who will perhaps have to be the first with which a troop of gods will again invade humanity, after so long an absence".

Rainer Maria Rilke, ON LOVE AND OTHER DIFFICULTIES

brutos26604

2012-01-12T14:55:00.003Z

His lover sits on his body; his hand rests on his lover’s thigh. His lover’s hand finds support on his shoulder, after the rewarding effort. Seconds before, words were uttered, full of tolling tension; now the bodies will seek to rest.

With lips half-open, he looks at the cum-shot with affection; the same affection with which he looks into his lover’s eyes.

I found this picture in the web, saved as “brutos26604”. Brutal? Possibly… I never believed that brutality and affection were exclusive of each other.

Happy Birthday

2012-01-10T05:30:00.005Z

Yesterday it was the birthday of J.K. Simmons. A sexy, “man-next-door” type of actor. And – of course - a very good actor.

Peter

2012-01-09T05:31:00.006Z

He was an average kind of guy with an easy going life and a nice job; not in the fast lane, just the way he wanted, providing for his life. He valued friendship and cared for his friends. He had been through some relationships but, for the time being, he preferred being single. In his mid thirties, having friends was important to him. He was attractive; having a good time was also important to him. He was unapologetic for his sexuality; all the experience gained through previous years had begun bearing fruit and he generously shared with other men.

He looked good bare-chested with jeans lowered and t-shirt hanging from his back pocket. A young man, in his late 20s, bent in front of him; his hands felt the young man’s naked back. He mastered the play, with his muscular torso moving vigorously back and forth, thrusting cock to pump the young man’s firm ass with skill. He was getting close and, with tension in his voice, warned his play partner about the imminent orgasm. Right after that, this man, older in age, who stood and watched motionless the whole scene from a short distance, approached. Before he felt the dizzy rush of pleasure overwhelming his body and thought, the older man grabbed him from the forearm, as his hands held powerfully and still the bent young man’s shoulders. The older man’s hand reached for his hand at the moment when, with a forward shove, he shot a full load inside the young man’s ass. The two hands joined in a tight and warm embrace, like two friends seeing each other after so long.

Breathing deeply, he gained back his awareness and put his t-shirt on, preparing to go; the older man stood sideways and watched him. “Let’s talk a little,” urged the older man, touching gently his arm, before he headed for the exit. Sociable by nature, he accepted the invitation. He always welcomed some friendly chat after sex; he didn’t like to rush; he liked filling the unwinding time after the release of sexual tension, with small and enjoyable man-talk.

The older man flattered him for his looks. The conversation rolled on, the older man felt comfortable and recounted his life’s tale of 30 years before, when he was in his mid-thirties. He was a family man; a wife and a young daughter; and a secret relationship with another man of his age. He was much in love with his lover; they used to meet at his apartment, where they spent time together. And that was their life together. He lived in two parallel universes, one man with two lives which could never meet. But he was content with this arrangement, it was as good as it could get. It was emotional balance for him, for he loved his wife and child. But Peter, that was the name of his lover, got tired after almost ten years. Peter said that they were getting older and that he deserved a man and a full-time life, not a sharing arrangement; a man to grow old with, to spend time together; not some brief and coded phone calls, during holidays and vacation.

The older man said that he acknowledged his lover’s claim to a fulfilled life. He was also aware that it is impossible to have your pie and eat it at the same time. But each person’s life is unique and, considering the times, that had been the best he could do with his life; as far as he could go. And when Peter, who was half his life, left and moved abroad and disappeared, his whole life crumbled into pieces. He pretended to his family and he fooled his doctor, that it was depression due to a job situation. It took time for him to recover and rebuild his life, little by little, which ever since remained half-empty, never restored to its fullness.

“You remind me of him,” the older man added.

“I remind you of him, like all else in their mid thirties remind you of him”, he responded; “I think it’s a shame and waste to keep telling your story, anonymously in the dark. You deserve more. But, after all, you had made your choice; you had, and still have, your family - if I understand correctly.”

“And a grandchild,” the older man emphasized.

“There you are! The rest is water under the bridge. All will be water under the bridge - eventually”.

He felt empathy for the older man. At the same time, he could not appreciate the self-pity the man felt, when he had been given a choice. No matter the difficult circumstances, he had chosen his life, the way his partner Peter had followed his own will. And it was not that the older man was left all alone.

“I still love him,” said the older man, somehow desperate. They hugged goodbye in the low light, against a fuzzy background of man silhouettes, within an atmosphere of sexual anticipation and accomplishment.

That was 20 years ago; which makes the older man’s story 50 years back in the past; he never met the older man again. And this story he remembered after the holiday season, drinking coffee by himself on his kitchen table. He is older than 50 years these days. He still has a good life; he has all that he needs and an agreeable personality. He has good friends; he spent the holidays with friends. He is attractive, with a rewarding sexual life. But reflecting in his kitchen, he felt that he had been a little harsh in his judgment of the older man. For, after twenty years, he felt that something was missing from his own life, through the parade of encounters and pleasant relationships; a parade that had begun to get a little blurry. Possibly it was a name; something like “Peter”; a distinct mark on his life to keep the senses acute and the memory sharp. A mark, similar to the scar that the older man of 20 years ago, was blessed to carry along his whole life.

that’s what friends are for…

2012-01-08T06:16:00.001Z

Support: one for all, and all for one.

each and every day

2012-01-06T06:07:00.001Z

ordinary men with beautiful beards

perfection 2

2012-01-05T05:52:00.001Z

Focal point: hands and feet

perfection 1

2012-01-03T05:50:00.001Z

Most of the times, the one having the greatest pleasure is not the one who has the greatest view.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T05:43:00.001Z

For a strong and sensual 2012

strong bearman

2011-12-30T07:58:00.010Z

It was a dazzling view: the big and burly bear who sat on the chair, suit and tie, with shirt unbuttoned and tie untied; the beefy and hairy topography of his chest; his chunky nipples. In front of the big bearman, a man gave him head, on his knees, in between the brawny bearman thighs; one of his hands twisted the chunky nipple of the bearman, through the open shirt.

They both felt my presence. The bearman looked at me and the man who sucked him turned his face towards me. They asked me to sit next to them. Soon, the man on his knees offered me his place. I brought my mouth close to the bearman’s big and thick cock, I brought his cock into my mouth; a sweet wetness and the taste of the condom. I sucked the bearman until he came, one of his big hands on my head; the other held my hand strongly against his thigh. With the other hand I felt the forest on his massive chest; my mouth felt his cock jolting, felt the warm cum-rush through the condom.

the bearable lightness of being

2011-12-28T14:53:00.005Z

a familiar face

2011-12-27T05:35:00.008Z

I met him at a friend’s house. His face looked familiar, but I could not remember from where. Firm and composed features; he was in his mid forties. The image of the man surfacing on my memory was of a young man in his early twenties. He seemed relaxed, he sat next to my friend on the couch; I sat across in an armchair. Yet, at the same time, he seemed restrained, a novice; reserved but not reluctant. He sat all quiet looking at me, as I spoke with my friend. My friend put his hand on his shoulder and started rubbing his back and scratching his head; he did not react much, he just lowered his face and closed his eyes. An intriguing image as he was a grown, solidly built, stocky man. He kept on being silent, as we went on talking. When we had exhausted the topic, we sat there quietly for a while; my friend turned towards him, looked at him, touched his cheek and scratched softly his face. They started making up and my friend took the lead; I enjoyed the sight of them, in silence. I watched them as they kissed; my friend talked to him in a low voice and directed his body with his hands. He acted according to direction.

I got up and went to sit on the floor, next to them, resting my back on the couch. I stared at him for quite some time, captivated. “Look at me”, I uttered spontaneously and held his chin as he gave head; he turned his face and fixed his gaze on my eyes; I brought my face close to his and held his head. His hair was cut short, going grey, baldy on the back of his head. “Go deep, I want to hear you”, I pleaded whispering. He gulped my friend’s cock, all the way in; I pushed and held his head still with one hand and held the balls against his chin with the other; I held firmly until he released himself free from my grasp, to catch his breath. I held his head with both hands, kissed him deeply and then we shared, taking turns sucking cock. I unzipped his fly; I felt with my hand his cock, hard and thick, and his warm and meaty balls. I felt his ass; I had him stand on four and he went on giving head. I got him undressed and fucked him; he did not stop sucking, all naked, as I pumped him from behind. I held him from his strong shoulders. My friend and I remained dressed, with just our shirts unbuttoned.

I took pleasure in cleaning his face with a towel, holding him. Then, I helped him put his clothes on. We talked a little and had a drink, as my friend prepared a snack for the three of us. He could not remember me when I said he seemed familiar from years back in the past. He looked directly in my eyes, with a clear gaze. This man appealed to me. His calm firmness, his reservation as he spoke, his receptiveness during play, all appealed to me. It often happens that the one who is in control, the real alpha male, is not the most assertive or obviously aggressive. This was one of these cases.

“What did you think? Did you like him?” my friend text messaged me the next day.

“Very compliant,” I answered, “I did like him; we should get together again. Did he mention anything? What did he say?”

“Not particularly and nothing much”, my friend responded.

Jeff

2011-12-26T06:15:00.001Z

Absent-minded, daydreaming

Patriarch & Archetype

2011-12-25T05:53:00.001Z

...The butcher-boy puts off his killing-clothes, or sharpens his knife
at the stall in the market,
I loiter enjoying his repartee and his shuffle and break-down.

Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil,
Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great heat in
the fire.

From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements,
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms,
Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, each man hits in his place...

Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

all the men ever born

2011-12-24T05:22:00.015Z

...I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue
to my bare-stript heart,
And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass
all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women
my sisters and lovers...

Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

submissive men

2011-12-23T20:03:00.003Z

brute

2011-12-22T19:04:00.001Z

The first expression of relief after shooting a load. Cum drips down his hand from a hard cock.

morning glory

2011-12-21T16:18:00.002Z

Getting up, rise and shine.

slowly

2011-12-20T19:22:00.004Z

Don’t rush when you first bring your face close to it. Touch it with your lips, feel it with your nose.

contrast

2011-12-19T19:01:00.002Z

A headless shot, cock inside the ass, all we see it’s the smooth back and buttocks and the fury stomach and pecs. They make a nice contrast. Beautiful masculine veins on the hands of the man fucking.

an unfamiliar night

2011-12-18T18:38:00.013Z

(pics from bears gone straight)

This happens rarely, actually it was unexpected. A straight couple entered the upstairs movie theater room and went to sit on the couch at the side of the room. Three other men sat on the seat rows, all away from each other. The three men watched the couple feeling somehow excited, somehow uncomfortable; the presence of a woman added a degree of awkward complication to any fulfillment of their expectations from their visit to the theater. But, still it was exciting. The man passed his arm around the shoulder of the woman and she rested her head on him. They started watching the film.

After some time the couple began to get excited. The man rested his hand on her breasts and they got involved in a long kiss. The woman rubbed his crotch and they kept on kissing. Then, he stood above her and unzipped his fly to present a set of hard and thick dick with big balls in front of her face. The woman lowered her head to give him head and the man raised his face towards the ceiling and closed his eyes. After some time, he turned his face towards the three men and fixed his gaze on them. The woman continued blowing him.

This was an invitation to some unchartered territory. One of the men was the first to trust his excitement; that it could lead to some untried pleasure. He got up and walked towards the couple and sat on the sofa next to the woman. He brought his face next to hers, expecting that she would share her man’s cock with him. And he did suck a little; after that, the straight man helped the woman to arrange her body comfortably on the sofa and loosen her dress. He spread her legs slightly open and then he touched the other man’s head and pushed it gently towards the woman’s pussy. Although the gay man felt uncertain, his excitement overwhelmed the hesitance. With his tongue he touched the woman’s clit; her body responded to his touch with a shiver. He went ahead; he became more confident as with each movement of his tongue, the body of the woman slightly trembled. All this time, the hand of the straight man touched his head, caressing it with care. He raised his head to look at the couple. The men looked his lady in the eyes with kindness and yearn, and held her hand with his other hand. The woman had her eyes closed and breathed softly, a big contrast to the exaggerated, almost grotesque and comical behavior of the women on the screen. No make-up on her, just a serene face showing some early marks of the passage of time. He felt attraction towards the beautiful woman, he even felt something more than attraction. “How is it going babe?” the man whispered to his lady and she nodded in affirmation; she took a deep breath and tightened her grip on his hand. For some precious seconds, the gay man felt as if he was in love with them both. He lowered his head to plunge it deep into her, spreading her legs to open some more, parting the leaves of her pussy with his fingers, pushing his lips into its spicy-sweet dampness. The woman uttered a low sigh and raised her torso slightly towards his face.

The two other men soon joined the action. One joined her partner in sucking her nipples; the other stood behind the couch, jerking his cock above her face. “You will get it now babe, all big and all inside, for sure,” said the straight man to the woman in a calm and reassuring voice; he passed a condom to the man giving her head.

The gay man fucked the woman, cautiously restraining his thrust; her vagina held a firm and wet grip around his cock. The woman played with her clit; with the other hand she held the big cock of the man who stood above her; the two other men sucked her breasts.

Engulfed in the scene, he released a big load inside her; the woman moaned.

“Thank you gentlemen,” said the straight man with his arm over his woman, as they stood before they left. “This was one of my special treats for my lady, a small surprise for tonight and I knew that you, especially you among other men, would not fail me”.

After the couple left, the three men stood above the couch, confused and in wonder. What was to do next? He, the most involved in the scene among the three, had the answer at once: next was business as usual. The straight man had given the hint to the question: “you, especially you among other men” he had said. The gay man would wait for his desire to recharge, in expectation of the familiar and, always, happy ending to an unfamiliar night.

wholesome and decent

2011-12-17T06:41:00.015Z

JPP, a visitor to this blog from California, U.S., sent to me this message:

..Interesting that for me these days a man partly dressed is very exciting like the recent ones on your site of the men in business suits--why does that guy take a gun with him to bed to play with his nipples? Well whatever works for him. How times change. Once we yearned for totally naked men in pix--when total nudity was illegal. Now clothes give a dimension of reality to a man--we see him in his daily life as a person. Still sexy still desirable but the whole person is what we want in our bed. I am taken with the pix of the man with his cat next to him on the sofa. I find pix of gay men with their pet in the picture very wholesome and somehow decent--like a family portrait. I am attaching two of my favorites. Hope that you like them...

Very interesting, indeed, and very true. Not only partly dressed but fully dressed, I would add.

“wholesome and, somehow, decent” - You hit a point there, J.

J also sent to me two pictures of men with their pet. I post them with some additional, similar ones.

Big Jim

2011-12-16T07:39:00.001Z

The view from below: cock, fur and nipples - Carolina Jim.

Bruno

2011-12-15T07:36:00.000Z

let’s leave it

2011-12-14T05:33:00.007Z

He asked me to leave my pants and shoes on; he wanted to be naked. He was young, in his mid 20s, with a trimmed and agile body. I sat on the bench of the booth, where he prepared me and got me hard; on his knees he sucked and jerked my cock with devotion. Then he turned around. His buttocks were muscular and firm; I enjoyed feeling them leisurely with my hands, I looked at his tight hole, then I spat on my palm and fingered fucked him, to open him ready. I probed his ass from behind, as he leaned with hands and head on the bench, moaning. After a while, he stopped. He turned around; he took my condom off and gave me more head. I stood above him as he asked me for a second round. He wanted me to pump him fast this time.

I searched in my pocket, but I had run out of condoms. I asked him for one. Otherwise we had to go out and get one, I said. He responded that I should pull out and cum on his back. “Let’s leave it,” I replied. Then, he put his hand inside the pocket of his jacket that hanged on the wall and passed me a condom.

I did as I was asked. I fucked him fast; I had him turn around and emptied a cumload on his chest. I looked at his face, a beautiful young man’s face, with fair skin and blue eyes; I touched his cheek with my hand. But after we finished and he wanted to have some small talk, I was not in the mood. Somehow, I had lost interest. I put my shirt on, “see you around” I said and opened the door to step out to the walkway with the cruising men.

two men

2011-12-12T18:37:00.004Z

On bed, after love making, with cocks still dripping cum. One is already asleep, the other looks at his partner lost in thought, with an unfathomable gaze. A beautiful drawing. I scanned it from an old G-Men issue.

3 muscle men

2011-12-11T13:33:00.001Z

2 smooth, 1 hairy

solitude

2011-12-10T14:15:00.000Z

A moment alone, away from the rest. Perhaps, things didn't work as expected; he was left out of the party. Perhaps, it was his choice; he seems to enjoy what he does, that's for sure.

beefy red bear

2011-12-09T06:03:00.002Z

Handsome man, with teasing body language. The missing picture from the previous post. A good example of a man with a healthy attitude towards his own body, always easy going and working towards its improvement.

nipple hard

2011-12-08T16:15:00.008Z

He sat next to me on my sofa. In his early 30s, he wore a white t-shirt that I took off, pulling it above his head. I kissed him. Then, I lowered my head, tasted with my tongue his nipple and felt the other with my fingers, playing hard. He moaned and I went ahead nipple-sucking and playing. He brought his face close to my unbuttoned fly, out of which protruded a wet cock-head. “Let’s save it for later, it’s nice like this”, I said. I took off my pants and moved myself to stand above him with my knees on the sofa. I looked at him under my thighs; my hard cock faced his chest. I grabbed his hands from his wrists and pulled them to touch my own nipples. “This is good”, I said and we played for long, not touching our cocks, with my pre-cum dripping on his body. He drove me mad and kept me hard. I put one hand behind his head and with the other I clutched his chin. “Show me your tongue, let me see”, I demanded with force in my voice; he passively stuck his tongue out. I looked at him, inside the watery eyes, and spat him in the mouth; he kept playing with my nipples. “Get ready for it, all on you” I said abruptly; it sounded like rage. It did not take me more than three strokes of my cock to get me off, to splash a heavy and thick load on his chest. I spread cum with eagerness on his skin. I held him from the chin again and took some cum on my hand, to make him smell and smeared it on his face. His body jolted in orgasm; he left a deep groan as he bit my hand.

condoms...

2011-12-07T06:16:00.005Z

...around and hard and thick dick that probes with force a tight man-ass, are sexy. Similar to a nice fitting t-shirt that shows up the masculinity of a man’s body.

doubling the order

2011-12-05T05:45:00.004Z

A nice treat that we owe to ourselves from time to time - to have a little more fun.

flannel classic

2011-12-04T06:49:00.001Z

The clothes do not make the man but we still like a flannel shirt on a bear.

G Men

2011-12-03T06:38:00.000Z

domesticity 2

2011-12-01T06:32:00.007Z

This has been going on for years. Late evening after dinner, when dishes have been washed and dried and all household deeds are done. His man sits in the armchair in the living room, with the newspaper or a book in his hands. He sits across the room and watches him, as he reads in concentration. A serious look in his eyes; his eyes move slightly to follow the lines on the page. Sometimes his man moves his lips to read in a muted whisper, to make sense of a difficult phrase. Or he scratches his beard and plays with his moustache; this helps him focus. Nowadays, his beard has turned grey-white and wears reading glasses.

He moves and sits on the floor, resting his back on the leg of his man; he turns on the TV, putting the volume low. His partner goes on reading but he puts his hand on his head and starts caressing him; this also helps him focus on his reading. Sometimes he falls asleep as his man’s hand strokes his head, absentmindedly. His man wakes him up, and they go to bed. Sometimes, his man leaves book and glasses on the table and starts rubbing his shoulder; then he taps his neck lightly and this is a signal to go to bed for more. Sometimes, his partner rubs his own crotch and stretches his body on the armchair to get comfy. Then he turns around and on his knees he unzips his man’s fly; he takes his cock and balls out of his pants and sniffs at the familiar scent, the sense of safety it brings. And before they call it a day, he sucks the day’s tension and fatigue all out of his man; warm man-cum in his mouth and on his lips, as he feels his own cream flooding his hand, the thick globs drip down on the carpet.

Other men have walked into their lives. Some of these men remained anonymous and some of them they shared. But at the end of the day, they always have their habits, their own silent rituals that reset and confirm their bond.

maturity

2011-11-30T19:06:00.005Z

Three hairy dad photos, almost vintage. The first one is a classic, an all virile man with a nice smile, big arms and a hard and veiny cock. Good-looking, he has something of Anthony Hopkins about him.

don’t waste a drop

2011-11-29T06:30:00.003Z

Also well known for its use as a hair gel.

some thoughts

2011-11-28T05:55:00.006Z

I read an interesting article in issue 12 of ALL BEAR, written by Xavier Axelson. Starting with the question of what constitutes a bear, Axelson makes some valid points on the traps of following the exact rules of classification. He acknowledges the importance of classification, the practicalities of a simple nomenclature used by the bear community, based strictly on physical characteristics. At the end of the article, however, he reaches some strong conclusions on masculinity, the “manliness” that captures the essence of being a bear; conclusions that apply to all men. Be yourself; go natural, physically and emotionally. Go with the flow; the ultimate driving force of masculinity is cyclical nature, manifested in seasonality. Xavier reflects, following the correct instinct and perception and wraps up: if with the term bear we express our desire towards the laid-back and natural masculine, as an object both of attraction and identification, we should avoid by any means simplistic trappings of categorization. Trappings, I would add, which hide the risk to tear to pieces and fake this object of our affection and lust; keep us away from it; most important, the risk to alienate us from ourselves, our own expression of masculinity.

This is essential. One of the few points I try to communicate with this blog, is the dangers that lurk in categorizing; in the fitting and filing of our desire as men into organized “boxes”. Right here, to give an example of categorizing, another trap sprang up like a Jack-in-the-box. I almost wrote “our desire as gay men”. Don’t get me wrong. I classify myself as a gay man. I am a man who is sexually and emotionally fulfilled when partnered with another man. But the term gay is mostly effective only for practical political purposes. It is an extremely important classification for the achievement of social parity. However, it reflects the perspective of a citizen of a certain country, with social conducts defined by a specific place and time. It is naïve to believe that if we took a time machine back 200 years in the past, in any part of the world, we would find that men who fell in love with other men and / or practiced homosexual sex, could fully comprehend the social behaviour of an out-of-the-closet gay man, as he functions in many countries, in the early 21st century. Do not get me wrong again. I do not make any judgment on when and where was and is better. I am just saying that the behaviour of individual human beings adjusts to societal norms tied to history and geography. Change always takes place, but it needs to ripen. Nobody ever started a revolution all by himself. End of the side tracking.

Having said that, I cannot avoid in this blog impressions from the various surroundings and places where I have expressed my sexuality as a man who desires other men. But realizing that the readership of this blog comes from all over, I try as I can to avoid emphasizing on the settings; I focus instead on the act and on the act’s impression – physical or emotional - even if it is anonymous or instantaneous. I strongly believe that any homoerotic sexual act has the potential to be fulfilling. Men read this blog who are possibly reluctant to, do not want, or cannot identify with an out-of-the-closet gay man. Men who are married to women; who did not have another choice; or who had another choice but they chose not to follow. And that was their right. Men who love their wives, honour them emotionally and sexually, but are also attracted to other men. And it’s difficult or impossible for them to go the whole nine yards. And they seek ways to fulfil their all-too-human desire. But by no means are entitled to lesser rewards from its fulfilment, physical or emotional, than any out-of-the-closet gay man.

I notice a certain phrase in Xavier’s article, “Their partners male or female will notice a somber virility of a beast…”, to bridge my thoughts to another type of classification, the one that he also refers to. For us who call ourselves openly gay men, trappings lurk within stereotypes that are imposed upon ourselves (or we impose upon ourselves). The perception that only those with certain physical features, those who match certain categories, are worth to appear in depictions of experiences that seek to communicate sensuality and invite the viewer or reader to identify with. This is a contradiction. The emphasis in projecting certain physical types or behaviours (the latter many times as an over-exaggeration, almost caricature, of maleness that eclipses the natural masculine) distances the majority of men from the possibility to be a part and become one with the experience.

masculine power

2011-11-26T06:08:00.000Z

alpha male

cock worshiping

2011-11-25T06:11:00.003Z

the right way. Use mouth, lips and hands on the cock and balls of your partner. Ignore your own body and erection, no matter how hard, no matter the strong urge.

perfection 3

2011-11-24T04:22:00.003Z

Being on top of your man. Riding him with rage, committing for him every muscle of your body. Or kissing him compassionately, your muscles relaxed, your hand covering his head, the blood in your veins warming him.

Carpe diem

2011-11-23T19:48:00.004Z

Carpe diem is a phrase from a Latin poem by Horace that has become an aphorism. It is popularly translated as "seize the day". Carpe literally means "to pick, pluck, pluck off, cull, crop, gather", but Ovid used the word in the sense of, "to enjoy, seize, use, make use of".

In Horace, the phrase is part of the longer Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero – "Seize the Day, putting as little trust as possible in the future", and the ode says that the future is unforeseen, and that instead one should scale back one's hopes to a brief future, and drink one's wine. This phrase is usually understood against Horace's Epicurean background

(from Wikipedia)

funny man

2011-11-21T06:00:00.007Z

He stood above me and, as I held his buttocks, I felt his strength. I was going down on him and he fed me fervently mouthfuls of his manhood. Next to me sat another man, watching and participating, giving him head occasionally, when I needed a break to catch my breath. But it was mostly the two of us. His thick cock tasted very good; a smell of sweaty and soapy cleanness on his hair, as I sniffed his balls, after he pushed my head down and asked me to use my tongue on them. I could go on for long, but he pulled back his body and held his cock in front of my face, pointing the cock-head towards my pecs; it was a heavy sperm load that he released on me; not unforeseeable considering his virile and vigorous sex-play. His hands massaged my chest thoroughly and spread the cum-load all over me. His slippery fingers rubbed my nipples and pressed their hardness with the fingertips. The electrifying signal brought strong spasms to my whole body. I rested my face on his hairy stomach, breathing deeply and slowly; a desire to sleep overtook me. He held my head for awhile, then he pushed it away, gently. “Look at all this mess we did, all on you”, he said; his hand still on my head. He asked me to follow him to the shower room.

We cleaned ourselves under one shower; he made rich lather and washed me, starting from my hair. I bowed my head and left my body to his systematic touch. After that, we entered the sauna room, then back to the showers. In the sitting-room, we waited to dry ourselves, wearing our towels. We chatted a little, as he was about to leave. “I will head to the gym, to lift some weights,” he said and looked at the mirror. He flexed his hard bicep, making a comical frown. He was shorter than me, bulkier and baldy. A sexy devil. He smiled in a funny way. That made him even sexier. He could joke with himself, in front of the mirror, in a witty and mannish way; I found this very attractive. His eyes flickered with joy. He stopped talking and looked at me, for seconds. Somehow he became a little serious. He felt my bicep and then punched it, gently. “Maybe we could pump some iron together, sometime”, he said.

My hard on returned. I smiled back. I gave him a minute to decide whether he would leave or stay. I was ready to drag him back to the room for some more pumping. “Here and now,” I thought.

Wood

2011-11-19T17:17:00.002Z

A heavy wood that goes deep.

man seeking man

2011-11-17T16:26:00.000Z

Real life is complex, much more complex than any simple fantasy world. We are all acquainted with its complications. However, at the end of the day, it’s these complications that make real life interesting to live.

A finnish film, directed by Matti Harju (2004)

living next door

2011-11-16T16:36:00.001Z

The new man in the neighborhood

aspects of handsome

2011-11-14T19:55:00.009Z

Transformation. This is a fitting word to describe handsomeness - the masculine handsome. It is more a matter of stance towards life and less a matter of physical features. If someone realizes this, handsomeness is there and will never fade away. It gets transformed to stay in harmony with the time that passes or with the moment. Paul Barresi is an example. Handsome through the years and handsome as the instant requires. Serene at the moment of love-making, brutal when taming the animal - at the second when all sexual tension is in charge, exploding.

the correction (strongman and jock)

2011-11-13T08:06:00.014Z

The bulk of his torso showed under the heavy grey turtleneck sweater. He was a strongman; a big head, with a round face, stood on his muscular neck; one large hand with sturdy fingers rested on his stomach, as the other hand stroke dick slowly; the thick cock-head protruded above the curled fingers, wet, reflecting the dim light.

He stared; he lowered his head and fixed his gaze on my groin. As I approached, he did not react but kept looking. I unbuttoned my fly, took my cock out to work on my hard-on, slowly, as he kept looking and jerking off. I brought my cock closer; its head touched his face. I rubbed the cock-head against the shaved face. The fresh roughness added to the pleasure, which was strengthened by a fresh pre-cum flow. I took good care to spread the emerged wetness on his face. He moved the face slightly towards me; his lips touched my cock-head and I forced my shaft deep into his mouth.

I went like this for some time, alternating, switching from mouth-fucking to face-fondling him with tenderness. I felt it was time to move onto something more, so I touched with my hands his big bicep and chest, under the sexy sweater. But he pushed away my hand, politely, nodding negatively with his head. I moved my hand and touched his hand, the hand playing with his dick; he reacted in the same way.

It became obvious to me that there was a single rule in his game - a simple and clear rule.

Even though not my game, I went ahead abiding to the rule, for I wanted the strongman to have his good time. I noticed an athletic jock who watched the whole scene with big interest, hand-rubbing his crotch. I invited the jock, with a move of the hand, to come and join. He approached, mesmerized. He stood next to me, looking down to the face of the strongman and to my cockhead poised on the air above it. I turned towards the handsome jock, lowered my head and kissed him in the neck. I whispered that the strongman needed a hard cock-head to deliver a full man-load to his face. A quick and fast delivery. As I kissed the jock, I unzipped his fly and took out his cock, already swollen hard, excited, with the vigor and the swiftness of his age.

That was the correction needed to the game. Being a man who likes the use of hands, the whole scene found again its appeal to me, not in taking part but in watching. The jock was physically gifted; he hit the face of the strongman with a big cock, rubbed it against and fed his hungry mouth with eagerness. The strongman participated with the minimum, just the necessary, movements of his head. “Getting ready to cum on that face”, muttered the jock, before he delivered a full cum-blast on the expecting, although expressionless, masculine face of the strongman. Then, the jock pulled back and we both watched the strongman unloading. He moved his whole body forward, aiming his shot to land on the floor. At the same time, heavy cum globs dripped from his chin on his sweater. He allowed, with eyes closed, his face to take an expression of pleasure.

a type of beauty we call alternative

2011-11-12T06:55:00.018Z

On the photography of David Trullo:

'With the intention of drawing a parallel between the apostles, fishers of men for the Christian cause, and the bears as bait for other men (real men, with hair on their chest), Trullo establishes a series of suggestive connections: the representation more or less sexy of this type of beauty - which we could call alternative - which distances itself from the mainstream representation of the ideal gay man by using the cultural context which underlies many sociological phenomena, mainly at an unconscious level'.

Juan Redón, Barcelona, March 2006

big chief

2011-11-11T05:34:00.003Z

Buster’s face

2011-11-10T01:19:00.019Z

“Bear Sex Party” of Brush Creek Media is one of my favourites. A classic all male flick, with all the men sexy and natural. They look mellow and act with no imposing pretension of toughness, which in many cases annuls masculinity. There are scenes where two or three of the men pack around the man getting ready to shoot; this is quite alluring. Jack Radcliffe is one of the first to get off, but he does not leave the set. He remains, participating joyfully in the play.

Another favourite cumshot scene is when Jack joins the subgroup of men around Buster, to prepare him to unload. We see three hands on Buster’s chest and stomach, his whole body getting ready with anticipating tension. Buster releases a large amount of precum, before ejecting the big load that Jack tries to collect in his palm, under Buster’s balls.

The intensity of the sensation is all captured in the expression of Buster’s face, which switches from laughter to pain and then to relief, all in a second.

Here are two recent pictures of Buster from Pantheon’s “City of Men”.

ordinary men

2011-11-09T04:22:00.003Z

…getting off, perhaps after a good work-out or a friendly wrestling match, dealing with their testosterone levels. Laid-back looks and sexy baldy heads.

domesticity (the cub)

2011-11-08T05:08:00.014Z

A friend introduced him to the cub. They all three went out to dinner. The friend and the cub had met through one of the websites and friendship sprung out of the acquaintance. The cub was quite attractive, although reserved; didn’t speak much. He sensed that the attraction was mutual. The cub had just finished college in his hometown, was new to the city and worked in a security firm. He didn’t speak much, but was not aloof or rude. The cub just would not talk much. That was ok with him. Before leaving the restaurant, the mutual friend sent him a signal with his eyes to get the cub’s phone number.

Some days later, he called the cub and invited him to go out on Saturday night. The cub was off that day, but instead of going bar hoping the cub proposed to make dinner for him, at his place. He claimed he was a good cook; it was the first time the cub boasted about something.

The cub rented a studio apartment downtown. He was dressed in his pajama pants and a t-shirt, with heavy socks on his feet. He searched his memory for another occasion when at first date, on a Saturday, his date would wear pajama pants and heavy socks. He could not recall anything like this and for some reason he felt pleased. A Viking tattoo on the cub’s right forearm; and his beautiful hairy wrist that had captured his eye, under the sleeve, at the restaurant.

The cub had cooked spaghetti bolognaise. While the cub set the table, he checked around the room. A computer, a small TV, a DVD player. A uniform on the hanger. On the shelf some books, mostly sci-fi, one on the Solar System. A model of Wolverine from X-Men, some cds and many dvd’s.

In addition to the pasta, the cub set tomato salad on the table.

After dinner, the cub asked him what movie he would like to watch as he adjusted the heat up. Winter had arrived early. They sat on the sofa. He was ok with whatever the cub suggested. The suggestion was “Fantastic Voyage”. “Cool!” he agreed. “That was long before you were born, maybe before I was born”, he remarked.

The cub sat next to him and they watched the movie, sipping beer from the can. He was 45 years old and the cub could be his son. There was undeniably attraction between them, a lot, but he had to make the first move. When he put his hand on the cub’s back, with affection, he felt inside something more than simple sexual longing. It was rather undefined, with no shape yet, but he gladly accepted it without questioning himself or rationalizing. The cub, without delay, curled his body and rested his head on his arm.

Soon he found himself on his knees; his hands crawled over the cub’s hairy legs, with fingers spread, under the pajama, pressing against the warm flesh of the chunky muscle; he closed his eyes and relished with lust the warm precum, flowing from the cub’s cock into his mouth, on his tongue. Then he undressed the cub and took his own shirt off. The cub lay on his lap and he held him strongly and tightly. The cub’s face shone with a smile; they kissed for long minutes; he made the cub cum, finger fucking him, holding their lips together in the long kiss, tongue and mouth wet. After that, the cub sucked him dry and he whispered things to the cub. He held the cub’s head and looked at the cub’s face. With his thumb he touched his own cum, thick and dripping down the cub’s beard; he caressed the cub on the cheek above.

Before leaving, he asked the cub if he would like to spend Sunday afternoon together, but the cub had to work the next day. He was available on Monday evening. They decided to go to a movie. The cub would suggest which movie to see. He had to take care of the dinner arrangements.

Sunday afternoon he took a long walk. It was cloudy and cold and he wore his heavy jacket. He had a late lunch, by himself, at a small laid-back restaurant. Later, he read the paper in a coffee shop. He text-messaged the cub. “Everything ok?” he asked. “Everything fine”, answered the cub.

big arms

2011-11-06T05:42:00.000Z

Strangely, with this massive cock and balls, it’s the arms that attract my attention.

fighters

2011-11-05T05:15:00.001Z

small previews

get real

2011-11-04T05:34:00.002Z

David with friend

2011-11-03T05:27:00.002Z

These must be older pictures.

handsome & furry

2011-11-02T04:25:00.003Z

A head I would like to hold for hours, like a puppy dog. Hold it close to my face, feel it scruffy, my lips moving from the eyelids to below the ear, kissing him, and back. Right there, what else do we need?

And, it seems to me that this is exactly what he wants.

the intruder

2011-10-31T21:43:00.009Z

There was definitely some chemistry, between us. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure whether he was attracted to me. But he turned his head, two or three times, towards me; then, he lit a cigarette and stretched his body slightly on his seat; a relaxed posture. The flame glow shone upon his face; an all-man, everyday face. He didn’t look at me again; he turned his face towards the screen and kept it there. He smoked in self-confidence. And that was it… We were on the right track, both anticipating the building up of the right amount of tension to bridge the gap of the empty seat that separated us.

Suddenly, another man appeared out of nowhere and sat next to me on the other side, on my right. This man was younger than me. Good looking but super-assertive, rather aggressive, in a way that I find unappealing if not repelling. He sat, almost lay on the seat and turned his face towards mine, very close to mine, looking at me. He didn’t lose much time. He unbuttoned my shirt, then he moved his hand down, on my crotch; he unzipped my fly and assisted my already hard cock to emerge out, fondling it. He lowered his head, preparing to blow me. At this moment, I brought my hand between his face and my cock-head. “No need to be in a rush”, I said calmly.

He looked at me perplexed. At the same time I heard his cell phone’s low buzz. I looked towards my other side, to check on the man on my left. He looked at the whole scene expressionless. I patted the empty seat between us and left my hand resting there. The man nodded in a negative way.

“Listen”, I said to the man whom I had allowed to invade my space. “I had something going with this man, before you appeared…” An ugly frown marred his face, expressing deep aversion. He replied abruptly that he disliked the other man. Turned off by this appalling and cruel rudeness, I pulled my cock back in, zipped my fly and buttoned my shirt. “Mate”, I said, “somebody’s just called you, maybe it’s something urgent, go and check… we’ll talk later”.

After we were left alone he finally came and sat next to me. I put my arm around his shoulder and he rested his head on it. We talked a little and I apologized for the awkward incident, my “wants-it-all” nonsense. We kissed and he proposed to go together down to the basement’s cruising maze.

Down there we were all alone. We ended up in one of the small chambers. He was shorter than me and stocky. His fleshy nipples stuck out of firm pecs. I chewed and licked them before I went down on my knees to suck him and taste his precum. We forplayed for quite some time. He gave me a condom, took his shirt off and turned around. With his hand on the wall, balancing the weight of his body, I entered his ass and started pumping his hole hard. With one hand I worked his nipple, the other hand held him tenderly from around the torso, feeling his manly warmth. He sighed and breathed heavily.

I heard footsteps approaching. The young man reappeared at the entrance of the chamber. He looked at us for some seconds and then he moved closer; I stretched my hand and sent a negative stop-signal with my palm. He stood there staring. The man I fucked turned his face towards him. Lost in bliss, he looked at him and beyond him; a beautiful expression of deep pleasure overwhelmed his face.

We were both getting close…

man in repose - five

2011-10-30T05:09:00.000Z

four (plus one hard)

a big hint

2011-10-28T04:13:00.000+01:00

For the case you didn't notice, the cock head protrudes slightly behind his thigh. Very sensual; the way the man looks at his manhood, his body in readiness.

tenderness

2011-10-26T04:29:00.003+01:00

Get well soon!

happy conduct

2011-10-25T05:44:00.009+01:00

These two young men in TitanMen’s “Bad Conduct” they do enjoy being together. They are not self-aware and behave as if the camera is not there, as if they are all by themselves. Friendly and warm, they know how to smile. It’s the first time I have enjoyed so much something in leather. But these two men are on the top just by being themselves, no need of accessories. And the bearded one is an outstanding shooter.

Chief Executive Officer

2011-10-23T08:47:00.011+01:00

Once a week he escapes, all by himself, away from everyone. Usually on late Saturday night, after all obligations towards family, friends or colleagues are fulfilled. No fancy suit, tie or footwear. Just plain sweat-pants, jacket and sneakers. He goes to his quiet refuge, a haven that he reserves for himself and no one else. He nests inside one of the booths, at the back side of the upstairs movie-theatre room, and sits on the comfort of the short bench. There, behind the glass, he checks the men who stroll outside and lets them check him out. When the right, instantaneous communication is established, he opens the door and lets the passing stranger into his den. After that, he draws down the curtain. Sometimes, if the chemistry is correct but something additional is needed, the glass door remains slightly open for a third man to join their play.

It was at this place where he recognized the man. It was the first time he met him outside the office. Many times, very late in the evening during weekdays, he meets him. Not much interaction, no more than a brief and polite acknowledging nod of the head; and a hasty “thank you”, after the man empties the waste basket next to his desk, into the big bin with the cleaning equipment that he rolls outside his office. He does not pay any attention to the man. He goes ahead with his work or with the late meeting with one of the department heads. Well, he pretends that he does not pay any attention. There are times, during a warm day, when the man wears his overalls slightly unzipped over the chest. A few fractions of a second are more than enough for his memory to keep a beautiful snapshot of the pair of strongly built hairy pecs.

He has a charisma. He always stays cool and never loses control. In fractions of a second, he realized that the known stranger had recognized him. Immediately, he greeted him with the polite, familiar nod of the head; then he pulled the glass door of the booth open. The stranger hesitated, then he entered the booth. The door was closed and the curtain was drawn.

Sitting on the bench, he unbuttoned the shirt of the visitor, took it off and hanged it carefully on the door knob. He proceeded to unzip his pants. He saw the bell shaped big cock-head; he gently grabbed the whole basket, cock and balls, pulled it out of the fly and started sucking dick. His left hand felt, for the first time, the all familiar from visual memory pecs. He felt grateful that chance would eventually fulfil this desire; a desire he had underestimated.

He had the stranger cum-unload on his chest. After the release of the last drop, he took paper from the roll to clean the big and beautiful cock, cautiously and painstakingly, almost in a ritualistic manner. He threw the paper in the waste basket, with care, unhurriedly. He held the warm cock against his cheek and looked at the man above him. He said “thank you”, but not in an hasty way. The two words came out of his lips clearly, as he looked the man deep into the eyes.

bear in t-shirt

2011-10-22T06:05:00.002+01:00

In most of the cases, a white v-neck t-shirt, worn above a thick hanging cock, is enough. Three unbuttoned buttons, the only accessory.

bear in uniform

2011-10-20T06:21:00.004+01:00

In exceptional cases, a dark uniform will do the job for me. Such is the case of this stunning muscle bear. His pictures in uniform turn me on more than the picture of him bare chested.