Saturday, May 27, 2017

A Week of Beefcake and Bulges the Plains

Plains, May 2017

On college campuses, the best season for beefcake watching is spring, when the heavy coats come off, and even when it's only 45 degrees out, undergrads break out the bulgeworthy short pants and muscle shirts.

Winter is good, too -- it's too cold to play sports outside, so they pack the gym.

But summer is a problem.  Most of the students are gone, and those who remain go off-site for their recreation.  You have to be diligent to find beefcake and bulges.  Here are my main findings of the last week:






Saturday: Car Wash for Life

I was out jogging, and I passed two teenagers advertising a car wash.  Shirts off, muscular physiques.







Sunday: The Bulging Boy with his Parents

My date and I were on the patio of an Ethiopian restaurant, when a family sat next to us: middle aged husband and wife, and son of college age, wearing athletic gear -- t-shirt, blue gym trunks, tennis shoes.

From my vantage point, I got a view directly to his crotch, which was tenting, regardless of how much he squeezed it, changed positions, or crossed his legs.

How embarrassing is it to get aroused while eating out with your parents?

I see tents quite often in class, but it's only a glance as I'm walking by.  This one was an uninterrupted view for 10 minutes.

Monday; The New Bodybuilder at the Gym

(Top photo).
You rarely see serious bodybuilders at the YMCA.  This guy must have been on vacation: tall, long blond hair, hairless marble-statue physique although he wasn't lifting a lot.  I tried to get a sausage sighting in the locker room afterwards, but there was an open door blocking my view.




Tuesday: The Librarian

I was back in the library, hoping for an instant replay of the Glory Hole from last Friday.  Nothing happened, but there was a new reference librarian, not the usual Creepy Old Guy usually there: mid-30s, buffed, bearded, chest hair sticking out over his button-down shirt.

His face wasn't anything to write home about, but he definitely stood out on a campus full of twinks.  Worth keeping in mind for later cruising.









Wednesday: Ahmed

The cute undergrad from Dubai that I met at the International Student Office.  Wouldn't kiss, but he let m go down on him.













Thursday: The Workman

This was the night of my date with Ahmed, but also, as I was driving past the Islamic Center, I saw a guy working on the roof.  Black, buffed, shirtless, holding a hammer.















Friday: Grindr at the Ice Cream Parlor

My friend and I were out jogging, and we decided to stop for ice cream (I know, stupid).  He was taking his time with his sundae, so I pulled out my cell phone and clicked on Grindr.

There was someone 30 feet away!

I looked around.  A middle aged heterosexual couple, a large family all eating ice cream together, and a bohemian boy.  He was thin, bearded, wearing tan shorts and shoes but no socks.  Sitting at a table with a girl, checking his cell phone.

I had my "friend" profile up, not my "hot" profile, so I quickly sent him a photo of my chest.  He glanced over without cruising.

A moment later, a photo of his penis appeared.  Or somebody's penis, an enormous Kielbasa, semi-aroused.

I'm free Sunday night.

See also: A Day of Beefcake and Bulges on the Plains; Tracking Down the Glory Hole Boy

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

How Intimate is Your Sex Life?

We have sex for many reasons:

To express erotic desire.

To experience beauty

To boost our self esteem

To be polite

For recreation

To establish and maintain intimacy.

Intimacy: that feeling of intense closeness, of opening not only your body but your soul, is essential for starting and maintaining a romantic relationship, the only way to distinguish friends and roommates from lovers.

These are sexual acts rated on a scale of 1 (least intimate) to 10 (most intimate).

To determine the intimacy of your sex life, score yourself for each of these acts that you engaged in with a partner during the last week, then divide by the number of sessions.

For instance, if you had five sessions last week, twice as as an anal top, three times as an oral bottom, three times as an oral top, and and one mutual masturbation, your score is 6.0

But, if you had five sessions last week, all involving kissing, plus twice as an anal bottom and three times as an oral bottom, your score is 12.8.

Note:  They are rated on intimacy only, not on other ways to judge a sexual act, such as skill required, degree of erotic stimulation provided, and facility at producing an orgasm.


Anal Top.  Anal takes preparation and equipment (condoms and lube don't come cheap), and the top has to be minimally attracted to the bottom, or it won't work.   But if you go in from the rear, you're facing the wrong direction, and even if you go in with his legs in air, you can't see much.

Plus you have to concentrate on proper technique.  If you are big, how to minimize the pain?  If you are small, how to keep from popping out at every thrust.  2 points

Anal Bottom.  The same problem as with topping -- facing the wrong way, or you can't see much.  But the pain and sense of risk work to increase the intimacy. 4 points



BDSM Bottom.  Letting a guy bind and gag you  requires a lot of trust, and he's producing not only erotic pleasure but domination, control, and pain.  5 points


BDSM Top.  BDSM requires even more preparation and equipment than anal, but it's not just a matter of plowing in. You have to pay careful attention to the bottom's reactions, and modify your actions accordingly.  5 points.










Interfemoral/Frottage, Top or Bottom: No advance preparation or technique to worry about, and you're facing each other, feeling each other's entire body, not just a penis.

Frottage (through the clothes): 3 points.
Interfemoral (naked): 7 points.


Kissing.  So intimate that some guys won't do it at all, and others, only with a romantic partner.  10 points.












Mutual Masturbation.  But isn't that what kids do before they figure out more advanced techniques?  Sure, but think of what you are doing: you and your partner have your hands on each other's most sensitive body part, which requires a great deal of trust.  You are gazing into each other's eyes.

And you have to be very aware to your partner's response to move toward a simultaneous orgasm.  Very intimate.  7 points







Oral Bottom. Not very intimate at all.  Most guys will go down on anyone who offers, regardless of face, physique, or personality -- a penis is a penis, and beneath the belt they're all the same.   You can even go down on a disembodied penis, through a glory hole or in a dark room, and have no idea who he is or what he looks like.

And the thrusting requires so much concentration, so much attention to technique and breath control, that you don't have much time left to establish emotional intimacy.  2 points

Oral Top.  A little more intimate.  Just as with oral bottoms, most guys will drop their pants for anyone who asks (as long as they are male and over 18) -- a mouth is a mouth.  But putting your penis into a position where you could get bit requires a minimum of trust, and at least you can look at at your partner.  4 points

See also: The Ins and Outs of Oral Sex

Saturday, May 20, 2017

The Glory Hole in the Library Bathroom

Plains, May 2017

Last Friday the campus was deserted.  The secretary in the main office was gone.  I walked down hallways so empty that the motion-sensor lights were off.

The food service was closed, so I had to walk all the way across the street to get lunch.

The campus gym was closed for remodeling, so I would have to go to the YMCA later.  But I had a more pressing problem: I had to use the bathroom.

When I have to sit down, I don't use the restrooms in my building -- they're heavily used, and so rather gross (a surprising number of college students don't know how to flush), and not at all private.  I use the one in the campus gym -- closed! or the one upstairs in the Business Building -- out of order!


Ok, Performing Arts, second floor.

Ocupado!

The only other secluded, non-gross restroom I could think of was on the third floor of the library, quite a walk, but...I had no choice!

I climbed the stairs to the third floor.  There were three students in the study area, at separate tables: a girl, a cute Hispanic guy, and a young-looking Middle Eastern guy.

I was curious about the cute Hispanic guy  taking notes from a book -- classes were over! So I walked past and took a peek: pharmacology.  He must be working on a late paper.

He looked up as I passed and stared at me suspiciously.  He was slim, with a round face, prominent eyebrows, and sensual lips.  Long, thin arms, square hands.

The Middle Eastern guy was working on his laptop: all I saw was black hair, a thin eyeglassed face, and a red t-shirt.  He looked very young.  I wondered if he was a newly-admitted student on a tour, taking a break in the library?

 I didn't want them to think I was there just to use the bathroom, so I crossed the room and headed for the PQ Section, French literature.  I browsed through Medieval, Renaissance, 19th Century, and turned the corner to a dead end with 20th Century.

I almost tripped over a guy sitting on the floor, reading an old book.

"Oh, excuse me!"

"No problem," he said, looking up briefly.  He was tall and thin, with black hair and a serious tan, wearing a purple university shirt and jeans.

I was already in this corridor, so I had to pretend to be looking for something.  I picked out a book on Gide and walked past the floor guy again, through the quiet study area.  I put the book down on one of the tables and headed to the restroom.

It was a long, narrow room.  You walked past the sinks into a little alcove with thick, heavy walls, for the urinals, and then another alcove with two very large stalls.  I chose the farthest one and sat down.

Then I heard the far door swing open.

I'm gunshy -- I can't do anything with someone else walking around outside, not even a boyfriend.  I would have to wait for him to urinate, wash his hands, and leave.

He didn't urinate.  Was he just standing there, admiring himself in the mirror?

Maybe he didn't realize that there was a guy in here!  I coughed to let him know.

Now he walked toward the urinals -- and past them.  He stood outside the toilet stalls, as if trying to decide on one.  I was invisible -- he wouldn't know mine was occupied.  I coughed again, to let him know.

He opened the door to the other one, went in, dropped his pants, and sat down.  I saw his tennis shoes and jeans, and a little of his tan socks.

Great -- now I would have to wait until he finished his business.  I pulled out my cell phone and waited for the sound of...you know.

No sound.

He must be gunshy, too.  So we would play the waiting game.  I tapped my foot impatiently..

Suddenly he shifted position and knelt on the floor, facing the wall between us.  I saw his cock under the stall, very thick, uncut, maybe a Kielbasa.  He was playing with it...

Was this...tea room trade?

But this was the University library!  I was a faculty member!  Besides, I had an apartment.  I could go on Grindr.

He was aroused: not a Kielbasa, a Bratwurst, but thick as a beer can, and close enough to touch.

I reached down and wrapped my hand around it.  He moved forward until his cock was sticking out from under the stall.

I got on my knees, crouched on the cold linoleum floor, and started licking the head.  He pushed it through even farther, arching his back.

I went down on it, steadying myself against the wall.  It was an uncomfortable position!


This is silly! I thought.   Invite him home!

I thrust up and down.  He was breathing heavily.  I reached out and stroked his balls, licked the huge mushroom head.  He arched his back farther.  Some more thrusts, more tongue action.  Soon he let out a little cry and pumped out his load.

He stood, pulled up his pants -- he was still partially aroused -- and left.

I returned to the toilet seat, flushed with erotic satisfaction.  I finished my business, washed my hands, and returned to the quiet study area.  Hispanic and Middle Eastern guy and the girl were still occupying their tables. Floor guy was gone.

Which of the three did I go down on?  I couldn't tell by the skin color, size, shape, or any other factor.

I sat down and read my book, trying to make eye contact with one of the guys, or both.

Middle Eastern guy looked up and smiled.

That's not proof positive, of course, but...

I might have to use the restroom again on Monday.

See also: A Glory Hole at a Rest Stop in Arkansas; Tracking Down the Glory Hole Boy.

L

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