Mike is away on temporary duty in a far far away region of the world. He told me not to say where. He called me today to tell me to post here and to say that he'd be back "soon."
He said he's really sexually frustrated because he's around dopey straight guys 24x7 and can't easily jerk off. He's probably going to unleash himself upon Seattle when he gets back...
Yes, yes, yes... Todays blog was supposed to reveal details from my trip to Vancouver. It's mostly written (about 75%). Google Docs, you have to love them. I can write and edit anywhere! Anyway, in between writing, working and lunch, I received an e-mail via the "E-mail Mike" links at the end of each post. After I stopped laughing, called and shared it with Zane, and after he stopped laughing, we decided that it had to be posted. And replied to.
To whoever you are, Mr. Mystery-Former-Marine, I'll respect your privacy by not including your full e-mail address. If you choose to break your silence, you may do so on the comments page; I don't feel comfortable giving your POC information out in a public forum.
That said, I do feel entirely justified in posting, and replying to, your Rhadamanthine missive.
So, here it goes:
****Begin E-mail****
Greetings from Virginia,
It seems to me that you are more than a little jaded. Intelligent yes, but nevertheless...hum? You talk about sex like you are a god....if this is your real pic, I have seen better. Also, your story about the dude who would not leave you alone sucked. It only shows how shallow you are...pitiful. I am a decorated Marine, who is gay, and has respect for others. Why don't you leave the corp and become a prostitute...seems to suit you. By reading what you write, you seem to be penis with a brain...In some of the countries I have visited, you might even be kept as the household whore whenever the master is horny. I am considered desirable by many men, but do not abuse this...you seem to think that the world is your oyster. In fact, I bet you are probably a better bottom than top. You are more than likely the Marine I have always avoided...shit eating grin and not much to show for it. Full of yourself for no reason. There are a lot of good looking guys out there bro....Oh, and then there is life after the corp..you probably should consider a career at the local bath house...this seems to be your skill set,,,,,Oh, and by the way..you may actually fall in love with one of these guys..hope they treat you the way you have treated others...peace out, Sempre Fi
Email: bhxxxxx@hotmail.com
Name: The one who called you out
Country: United States
****End E-mail****
I'll address some, where they are actually coherent, of this individual's ramblings. First, I'm jaded. Well. Shit. He figured me out there. I've been shot at, blown up (yes, in actual IED/EFP explosions), dealt with gay drama, and while I live my life to the fullest, I nevertheless view myself as a realist. I'm happy, always greet people on the street or at work, and take the time to help people with doors when their hands are full. I'm a nice guy. Genuinely (shhh, don't tell anyone).
The fact of the matter is, is that nice guys typically don't get shit, either with men or women. Bottoms want a take charge, tell you what the hell is going on, what to do, when to do it, and how kind of top. A man. True, not all of them, but a solid 80% at least. They want the top to be the rock in the relationship, be it a hookup or long-term partnership.
I know what I want: sex. I don't lie, going into things saying I want to explore serious avenues of love and then fuck the dude and leave him. When a guy gets into my bed, he knows the deal. I want ass. Period. Nothing else. If he accepts that and later pushes for more, I fail to see how that makes me a "shallow...pitiful" guy. People must stop convincing themselves, or others, that their desires are, indeed, reality. Got it, interested. I'm not. Move on.
Now, my reader claims to be a decorated Marine, a gay one at that, and holds others in respect. First, anyone in the military who has a pulse and is in for more than 8 months is decorated. I take it he truly meant "retired", which is fine, if slightly disingenuous.
I've been sexually active, as I've stated, for nigh on 13 years now. In those 13 years, I've learned one thing: guys are horrible. Evil, almost. I've never, ever, heard of a gay relationship past 6 years that has been completely monogamous. You can go on craigslist, manhunt, gay.com, a bar, the park, wherever gay men congregate, and ALWAYS find guys saying "wife is away, looking for cock", or "boyfriend out of town, breed my hole!". You all know it, and I know it.
Why I am the target for the readers vitriolic smearing simply because I have a lot of sex, apparently he believes I have a future as a prostitute, is beyond me. I am not better, and no worse, than any other gay man out there. So, bucko, get your ass off your god damned high horse and shut the fuck up. Perhaps I talk about it openly, but in the end, that just means I'm a shade more honest than the tens of thousands of other homos who you aren't moralizing at every minute of the day.
Lastly, "if this is your real pic, I have seen better...you seem to think the world is your oyster..." he writes. Let me address that. Am I an Abercrombie model with ripped abs you can grate cheese on? Nope. But, as you can see, I have a decent body, good build, and I am good looking. I don't flaunt it. I don't brag about it. I'm, somewhat, modest but also honest about what I am and what I can therefore go after. I'm not going to pull that false modesty, woman bullshit where someone who is a 10 on a 10 scale demurs that they're really ugly. I don't play that bullshit. So, ass monkey, if you do, more power to you. Glad to hear that there is life after the Corps, perhaps you can go and actually have one issued to you?
Oh, and while 99.99% of Marines are bottoms, a fact I fail to see shame in even if it’s not my personal cup of tea, there is a reason this blog is called TOP Marine. I don’t bottom. Ever.
As always, it's a Pleasure, yes with a capital P, to hear from my readers.
Some Italian details will be up tomorrow
Hoorah (just for you, Mr. Reader)
~Mike
Send Mike an E-mail
All concerned,
I fucked up today, and was royally chewed out by my chain of command. My car, bless it, also konked out, and is going to cost me $800 to fix. I had a crappy day. I owe you Vancouver details, and will try for tomorrow, but for now I am going to get completely shit-faced drunk.
~Mike
PS: Thanks to those of you who have offered advice... any more thoughts would be appreciated
When I checked my e-mail this morning, I had several requests for the "dirty little secrets" from Vancouver. While writing about each guy and situation would take too long, and I don't want to do another week long multi-post like last week, I will focus on the hot Italian boy I banged and post the details in their entirety. Look for that by tomorrow (Tuesday sometime).
But first, a Rant.
Several things attract me to guys. The beauty and tightness of an in-shape male body is beyond the pale in comparison to a womans'. The masculinity, similar thought patterns, lack of hormonal fluctuations... and the lack of drama. Which, as my gay readers know, is not necessarily always the case. Especially with the bottoms.
Sigh.
Two weeks ago, I managed to meet a guy that I didn't write about in the blog. I mean, I try, but lots of shit happens in a day, or week, and not everything makes it.
Anyway, his name was Jeff. He's good looking, about a 7.5 on a 10 scale face wise, great body and one of the top three asses I have ever seen. Just an amazing ass.
We met while I was shopping at Whole Foods for meat to take to a BBQ. We made some casual talk while we were waiting at the butcher counter and parted ways. I didn't think another thing of it. Then I ran into him again in another part of the store, and talked some more. I left the store and made another pit stop, and ran into him at the dessert counter. We laughed, and he asked if I was following him, a fact, he said, that wouldn't bother him at all.
Zing!
I picked up on the clue, and immediately got his number. I went over to his house that night after leaving the BBQ and fucked him 3 times nonstop, back-to-back. As I said, he had an amazing ass.
That was hot; I didn't mind that part at all.
The part I did and continue to mind, however, was how my performing the "you're hot, lets fuck" proposal was somehow translated into Woman inside his mind to mean, "I love you, please marry me". I think you can see where this was headed.
Text messages swarmed and filled my inbox, and if you have a RAZR, fucking things, you know that’s not hard to do. I got calls constantly, and had he known where I lived, or stayed when in Seattle, I have no doubt he would have parked his happy little ass outside there, too.
I finally got fed up with it, who wouldn't?, and told him the fucking deal. He was a trick; I don't meet my future husband(s) at Whole Foods and fuck them 3 hours later. It was a hookup, period. Had he not gone psycho on me and approached things slowly and with an open mind towards dating, that could have been a real possibility. Going ape shit, however, ensured that "NOT A CHANCE IN HELL" was firmly applied to the mental file I kept on him.
Evidently, however, I was not successful in my efforts to get rid of him, as evidenced by the following e-mail:
***** Begin E-mail*****
From: **********
To: *********
Date: Aug 5, 2007 3:49 PM
Subject: Dude, hello....?
On 8/5/07, ********* wrote:
I'm sorry about this past weekend and anything that I said wrong to you in the texts.
To be honest, I was very hurt by you and I felt very humiliated and embarrassed and like a total ass for the way I was acting toward you. The truth of the matter is that you are one of the very, VERY few people I've ever wanted to date and not just fuck. You're the first person that would have sex with me that i wanted to be with in 3 months. I'm guessing now, especially given this past weekend, it's going to be another 3 months or longer before I'll ever get sex again.
I wanted to be able to hang out with you over the weekend, but it seemed pretty clear you didn't want to see me at all. I'm guessing that all I am for you is a one night stand in which you said what you had to to get what you wanted and therefore you did.
I do want to know you and spend time with you and have fun. But I guess it's all up to you. I just want to apologize for anything I did or said wrong over the weekend. I'm sure you had tons of sex with lots of hot guys up in Vancouver. I hope you were safe. I finally left Vancouver last night without being able to meet even one guy to make out with. I'm glad to be home.
I hope you are well, and you won't hear much from me unless I hear from you.
*******
*****End E-mail*****
So, as you can see, my current "dude, back the fuck off" strategy is not working. Damn.
Short of telling him I will beat the fuck out of him if he ever talks to me again, which I am loathe to do for someone who just craves attention and affection, I'm not really sure about to proceed... Any ideas from the audience?
~Mike
Send Mike an E-mail
So, on a whim, I went to the Vancouver BC Gay Pride with my friend Zane.
Not necessarily the best of decisions. But, I did manage to have a great time. For the most part.
For those of you who aren't familiar with Vancouver, it's a beautiful city. The only real problem I have with it is the lack of major arterial roads. Everything is local. Makes traveling a pain. That, and 4 hour waits at the border when you cross back into the US. That kind of sucks.
We managed to get rooms in a decent downtown hotel. We went out, saw the fireworks, the parade, the typical things you see and do during a Pride.
My chief gripe, however, was regarding the distinct lack of high numbers of hot men. Zane had lured me here with lurid tales of how many gorgeous men would be in the city, all looking for cock, and how great a time I would have.
Well, I did manage to find a hot guy, or 3, but none were actually Canadian. Dammit.
Anyway, we went out that night. I wanted to try this place, Odyssey, but Zane wanted to go to some other club/bar. We settled by doing a choice neither of us were actively interested in. Compromises, you have to love them.
The club was the pits. The location sucked, the inside was shitty, and the clientèle...well, lets just say that I would NOT be picking up any hot holes here.
Instead of focusing on sex or trying to find a target, we just decided to drink and have fun. And be totally obnoxious. Americans are good at it; we excel.
When I finally swiped my keycard and made my way back up to my hotel room, painfully alone, I made a beeline for my laptop. I logged on, amused, noting the number of guys also looking for cock at that moment. Quite a few. Damn, why couldn't any of the assholes been out tonight?
Oh well.
Within 2 minutes of being logged on I'd received 18 messages. I hate when people do the little "wink" bullshit. If you don't have the balls to say something to me, online!, why the fuck am I going to waste my time on you? The assholes who don't have pictures, but have the stupidity to dare text me a message simply saying "hey, unlock?" can just rot in hell. Fuckers.
Anyway, after weeding through the extraneous, ugly, fat, old, and no picture messages that I'd gotten, I had 8 likely candidates.
Not too bad, I supposed.
First, I sorted through them by height. I found a nice little Italian boy, claiming to be 5'8", whose pics looked good, nice body, and a beautiful bubble ass. He said he liked it a bit hard, and I was more than willing to drill his head through the god damned drywall.
We messaged back and forth a few times, and when I received a warm fuzzy, sent him the information he needed and told him to get his ass over to my hotel.
As I logged off the computer, I reflected that between this unplanned trip and last weekends effort in Seattle, I was gonna be broke for upcoming week before payday. Oh well, you only live once, right?
My cellphone jolted me back to reality with the notification that I had a text. He said he was downstairs in the lobby. He could have come straight to the room, I wasn't in that swanky of a place, but I wanted to see him first.
I went down, and my eyes were instantly drawn to him. In his pictures I'd have pegged him for a solid 8. Great body, a 10 ass, but face was just above average. In person, it was more complex. While he didn't have that model beauty or classical "hotness" that you would see in an Abercrombie store, the way his whole person added together made him striking. Definitely someone you notice.
Hot. Damn.
Apparently, I wasn't alone in my laser eyes. Half the people in the lobby at that moment were homos and every single one of them was either overtly or shyly checking him out. Or me. We stood there, eyes locked, as I walked towards him, stupid grins plastered on our faces. If thought bubbles had formed above our heads it would have been something like "THANK YOU GOD, I TOTALLY OWE YOU FOR THIS!"
We didn't talk. I put my arm around his shoulder, guided him towards the elevator and up we went.
I could spend hours describing how I fucked him 7 times that night. I could mention how he used his ass muscles in a way I'd never felt before, a rolling massage on my cock that left me damn near breathless. I could describe the tenderness we would give each other one moment, and the hard, near rape, ass pounding he'd get the next.
We clicked. It was amazing.
And, damn him, too soon over. After the 7th time, both of us sated, exhausted, and falling asleep, I finally asked him where he was from, expecting the answer of Vancouver.
When he said originally from Vancouver but currently was living in London, I was floored. A 3 hour drive for amazing sex was doable, but a 10 hour flight was not.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuccccck.
And yes. If I get requests, I will post the little dirty details. Now, I have to walk a pissed off Shade I neglected for the weekend and wash my uniform. It stinks like sweaty ass.
~Mike
Send Mike an E-mail
So, this weekend, in comparison to the events of last weekend, was supposed to be low-key and relaxing. Get caught up on things like laundry, household chores, wash the car, that sort of thing. Instead, on a whim, I went with Zane and a bunch of homos to Vancouver BC for Vancouver Pride.
Oy.
It's 0124, and I just finished screwing a hot boy. I'm still buzzing a bit, and tired, so I will write more about it tomorrow after I get some breakfast.
Good times!
~Mike
Other than resting my chaffed cock from a weekend of overindulgence, I haven't really been doing much. Monday I went to work, hit the gym, went home and talked to the family on the phone. I fell asleep watching "Independence Day", just because I could. Tuesday, the same basic routine, only I had to fend off the married guy I'd fucked from my gym last week after he made serious advances during my routine. He was still hot, and I was willing to fuck, just not then. I took Shade for a long run when I got home, and called it a night.
So, now it's Thursday. The weather is beautiful, the weatherman forecasted 86 F today, and I'm stuck cleaning weapons after a range. Tons of fun. Nothing like scrubbing carbon buildup out of a machine gun all day long to get your heart racing. Woo.
To save time later tonight, not that I don't enjoy writing this, I brought my laptop to work and am writing this periodically throughout the day. If there are present/past tense issues, that’s why. Deal with it.
Saturday, if you read my last blog, was a mixed day. While I'd gotten good head from Jorge, and an amazingly good romp from Brandon, I finished the day with merely average-to-mediocre sex from the next three and was flaked on by Shawn. Those Tacoma guys, fucking weird.
Needless to say, the mixed results from Saturday had me mildly apprehensive as to what to expect for Sunday.
I'd only scheduled two guys that day. I figured, even though I'd not been having great sex, the frequency counted for something. I was still, at least, getting my nut off. I hoped that I would manage at least one more Brandon quality fuck and finish up the weekend on a high note.
The first boy on the schedule was Justin. Funny name, Justin. I had six Justin's in my phone, and every single one was a homo. Come to think of it, I don't even know a straight Justin. Very weird. Anyway, he was a tiny bit taller than me, something I typically don't find attractive, but with a nicely lean, clean look to his body. Just over 6'1" or so, 180 pounds, he was "flingable"; I could manhandle and fling him all over the bed. Very nice. He had dirty blond hair, starting to recede, hazel eyes, and some really hot tattoos. The pics definitely had me ready and willing to flip him over and use his tan backside.
Then there was Dave. Homos definitely seem to have common and boring names. Sheesh. He was sketchy; didn't want to give many pictures, refused to send a face pic, which traditionally would be an automatic "ignore" sign, and was light on details beyond basic stats. The 4 body pics that he’d sent, however, had me going against my doubts and scheduling him anyway. He was my favorite height, 5'9", with a perfectly formed, toned body. I could, literally, find no flaw. I figured what the hell, the worst that could happen would be that I had to boot him out, and penned him in as my last fuck of the weekend.
Nothing is as easy as you plan, however.
I’d again left the door propped open and was waiting on the bed in just a pair of boxers. When I heard a slight tap, and then the door opened I had my first sight of him. He was everything his pictures led me to believe. He almost ran for the bed, and as we grabbed each other it took all of 4 seconds before we were tearing clothes off. As I flipped him ass up and started to rub and nibble my way down towards his ass, I could smell he'd freshly showered. I inspected his hole and was pleased to find he'd also freshly steam cleaned it as well. Thank the lord! Bottoms up!
So there I was, hands spreading Justin's ass cheeks, munching his salad when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, and standing there was a young 20-something guy. Judging from the body displayed beneath the almost non-existent tank top and shorts, it could only have been Dave. Fuck.
Goddamnit.
I sat there, body still facing Justin's upraised hole, hands spreading his cheeks, while both of our heads were turned around staring at the newcomer. He finally spoke.
"Um... you told me to come over at 10... were we doing a three? I didn't know that's what you wanted..." he said as he wrung his hands.
I jumped up, went over to the kid, put my arm around his shoulder and steered him towards the bed.
"Actually," I said, deciding to be blunt, "I sent you the wrong time. Sorry about that. We would both, however, love to have you join us. You're fucking hot, bro, and we're game to play." Justin enthusiastically nodded his head. The greedy whore was nearly salivating at the thought of getting double stuffed. Which was an amusing thought. As if I would bring in another top, Jesus.
He seemed to hesitate a bit, but between my hands massaging his ass and Justin proactively taking his cock out to slurp it down, his inhibitions melted rapidly. He stood there, for a quick minute, eyes closed, swaying like a reed in high breeze, and then he was suddenly naked and making out with Justin.
There is a god. Fuck yes!
So my two bottoms were making out, Dave on top, and I resumed my earlier activity. This time I was focused upon Dave. I inspected his pucker, checking for cleanliness and my no dangling skin requirement and was enormously pleased to find a perfect pucker staring at me. I spread, took an initial whiff, and happily dived in. Damn, he was good. And tight! He was so sterile that he could have scrubbed with steel wool. Excellent.
While I munched on his hole, two and a half days of stubble rubbing his tender area while my tongue probed his insides, I used my right hand to sneak under Justin, fingers sliding into his spit lubed hole and searching for his prostate. I'm a pretty big guy; I have decently large hands. The wet, breathy noises that started coming from the boys beneath me were evidence I was doing something right. Moaning bottoms, is there anything hotter?
I stopped fingering Justin and, as I continued to munch Dave's hole, reached for the rubber I'd set aside earlier and slid it over my pole. Poor Dave only knew that one moment he was moaning and writhing as I tongued his 'bud and the next I had half of my cock rammed up his hole. He was tight; the invasion was quite a surprise. The kid took it like a man, though, and while he grunted in pain and tensed up, he didn't make an effort to squirm away or fight my tool.
There is nothing hotter to me than a tight bottom who takes a fucking like a real man. That's fucking hot shit.
I settled my weight so that half was resting on his ass, the other half on my arms, settling in a semi-pushup type position and sunk my cock slowly into his hole. As I reached bottom, I could hear and feel his staggered breathing. I bottomed out in his hole and his body quivered. Nice. Justin, meanwhile, was grinning like a madman at the bottom of the pile. He loved every second of it.
I stayed there a minute, most likely about 14 seconds, allowing him to get used to me, before I withdrew three-quarters of my cock and slammed it back in. Withdraw, pause, slam. Withdraw, pause, slam. I kept a slow, but hard and deep rhythm that had both of them moaning and panting for me to fuck him. Hard. "Harder, goddamnit, fuck me like a man!" he yelled.
Heh. Little boy had no idea what he was getting himself into.
I picked him up, sitting up on my knees, and flipped him around so that he faced me. Holding him by the ass and thighs, I held his weight completely while allowing his ass to sink just low enough that I could pierce his hole. Instantly, I started to slam my pelvis upwards. This position, hard to do without a lot of upper body strength, left the bottom completely exposed. If you spread his legs wide, you become hard pressed to find a position which gives better access to really drill his hole.
And drill I did. With extreme prejudice. Hah!
Justin, not to be left out, twisted Dave's head to the side and started to make out with him. I sat there, watching my bottoms make out, while I just drilled the fuck out of Dave completely turned me on. It'd only been 15-20 minutes since I’d entered his hole, but I could already feel the orgasm building. Typically I hate blowing my nut if I haven't fucked for at least an hour. I like it long. Knowing that I had two willing, available holes who would stay until I was completely sated, however, gave me the freedom to cum at any time.
Gripping his thighs so hard I left bruises, I shoved my fully into his hole. I thrust my head forward, joining the two in a wet, moan filled three-way kiss as I shot my load into the rubber. I could feel Dave's cock against my groin, which was, curiously, jerking and pulsing every time my own cock pulsed out a shot of cum.
Fucking hot!
As I withdrew from his hole, both of them looked at me uncertainly with a, "are we done now?" look clear on their faces.
I pulled off the rubber without a word, grabbed a wet towel and cleaned off my cock. I grabbed Dave's neck, and forced his head down onto my tool as I reached for Justin with the other hand and pulled him into a kiss.
No my boys, the day was just beginning.
At some point I called the desk and made a bullshit excuse that necessitated a late checkout. They assured me it was no problem, and that I had until 1500.
Guess what time they left?
As I watched the now extremely loose bottoms walk out of the room in charity with each other, I grinned in satisfaction. I'd fucked plenty of hole over the weekend, managed an impromptu threesome, and had some awesome sex. True, it ended up costing me $500 in hotel and food charges, but, what the fuck. Nothing in life is free, right?
I totally have to do this again.
~Mike
Send Mike an E-mail
