Monday, October 28, 2013

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Learning Respect, the Hard Way.


In 1981 I lived for about a year in a small town in the Rocky Mountains, and I worked at a cabinet shop during that time. One of the men there was instantly aware of my feverish and constant sneaking glances at the bulge that hung down his leg all the time. He was about 6'6" and a wide-shouldered bruiser with big hands and arms and a big black beard. He always wore a baseball cap and had a big gold wedding ring and a mild Tennessee [?] accent.

Whenever we were working in an area where the noise of the sanders and fans and saws would block out our conversation, he'd say stuff like, "Well, suck my dong, this sander belt's gotta be changed again," or "Well, suck my dong, it's almost 5 o'clock!" I got the message, and pretty quickly there were a couple of nights a week when we'd stay late after the others left and he'd take me back to the shed and let me suck his huge, juicy, uncut cock.

The foreman was an asshole who I never got along with, a short, pudgy, balding, mean guy. He had a big moustache, and I had no respect for him. I had never had any interest in him at all, but on the morning he fired me, he suddenly, for the first time, was showing a huge long dick in his pants, complete with wet spot!

Of course I couldn't help but stare, even though I didn't like him. I know he saw me looking too, and when he called me in at lunch to tell me I was fired, his contempt was palpable. He said he had been planning to fire me for a while, but that my latest work was even shittier, etc. He really made me feel terrible. Plus, I was suddenly turned on by him, hypocritical little size-queen that I am, and now felt he was unattainable.

Even though I was no longer working there, Greg would set times for me to be in the shed, for his regular servicings. One day, he surprised me, and only told me afterwards that they had planned it, but didn't tell me beforehand. In conversation, he and Parker [the asshole] had gotten around to the fact that I was a cocksucker, for real. They set it up so he'd "catch us" and, then take part. And that's what they did.

One evening, with Greg leaning against the wall, pants lowered, his hands wrapped around my head and my face wrapped around his cock, I'm on my knees wearing nothing but socks and a t-shirt, and I hear the door slam and footsteps behind me. "What the fuck do we have here?" says the familiar voice. He stands next to Greg, looking down at me with my mouth stretched open like a blowfish, my eyes wild and no doubt bulging out of my head. "I thought I fired you." I can see his dick in his pants, inches from my face and widened jaw, and it's obviously stiffening. He plays with it through his pants. "See, I told you he was a cocksucker," says Greg.

"Well, I've got a new job for you, bitch, right here."

Needless to say, he finished his degredation of me that night, and the two of them amused themselves with a cock-size contest, of which I, the loser, was judge. I had a hard time deciding who's was bigger, and it was fun listening to them bragging and asserting their superiority. Parker made sure that I respected him by the end, and that I was utterly humbled in my previous defiance of his authority. I did, finally, worship him and submit to his will.

He completely re-arranged my thinking on what makes a Man "Hot."

The economy turned to shit, the shop closed, people moved, the scene ended. But for the rest of that summer, one or both of them exploited my adoration regularly, and kept my throat well seeded.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Rick, the Impregnator


Rick was one of the first guys to answer my ad in 1984. He was 31 and I was 29. He kept getting his girlfriend, Margaret, pregnant, and they finally had to get married and moved to North Carolina where she was from, which broke my heart because we had been having lots of fun.

He'd drop by a couple times a week and get a bj, or we'd drive around in his truck all night while he snorted coke and let me suck his dick. He was playful and funny, and really confident. He liked taking me with him to titty bars for a couple shots and then facefucking me afterwards in some dark parking lot. He fucked me a couple of times, but mostly liked head. He shot copious loads, and liked that I would swallow all of it. They probably have ten kids, AND he still gets bjs somewhere on the side. He was really big about 6'3," with big rough hands, and he made me feel like a little kid next to him. He was in my life for almost 2 whole years!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Delivery Man ~ My Screenplay

Here are some more treasures from my scrap book....






Instead of just complaining about porn movie direction, here's an example of how I would do it. It would be my ideal, that all of the footage prior to "standard porn movie cocksucking" would happen in 3 minutes max. Then you've got a whole hour for the other stuff. Remember, my esthetic is a strong distinction between players, none of this everyone getting naked and doing a dance number.

Here's the screenplay for the first 3 minutes:

Bobby, a plumpish, bespectacled clerk sits in a messy old office by himself, furtively looking at muscle magazines. If possible, include a ceiling fan in one of these shots. Short cut: He fingers his pants, a pale pastel, revealing nothing. Cut to his inner imagination. He goes into a porno theater. Cut to him at an empty gloryhole, desolate.

Fade to a handsome, rugged delivery man, yelling at someone in traffic. He gripes about having to take that asshole's delivery route, cause he's such a fuckhead, etc. Use fleeting glimpses of him, tease the viewer. Show his physique and bulge with flashes of him working. Show him taking a piss, but just from behind. Use a "peeping-tom" camera angle, peeking around a stall wall. It doesn't have to make sense.

He sees a slutty girl. Zoom on his crotch fading to his eyes closed, depicting his inner thoughts, with image of his hard cock getting a deep sucking. Show him from the cocksucker's point of view, looking down at the camera, and show him watching his cocksucker, but show only the lips. Inner thought shots should be dreamlike montages, maybe use old movie filters.

Back to the office. Show an old clock ticking, it's 3 minutes to five. Bobby's ready to punch out, his lunch box and bag are on the desk. Loudly, suddenly, Ethel, [get a real character for this: a "grotesque" as they say] the old secretary, sticks her head in the door and says: "Bobby, the delivery is late today. You're going to have to take it. I'll lock up the front on my way out." Her appearance is shocking, out of
place, very brief, and it sets up the whole "plot."

Bobby is petulant. Fade to his inner eye: show hot construction workers crowding into the bookstore, pacing restlessly outside the glory hole booth, one tapping his foot. Fade-out with close-up of tapping boot. Bobby wearily grabs a clipboard and trudges to the door.

At the end of the long hall, show the porn star in silhouette, backlit almost to white.

Prolong the approach by showing cuts of Bobby's changing expression. Use brief, glancing close-ups on the top's eyes looking directly into the camera. Close-up of Bobby's face looking at the man's pants in awe and yearning, cut to closer shots of the Talent. Cut to two-shot of him looking down at Bobby, who is nervously and exitedly trying not to stare at the man's crotch.

"Where do you want it?" His voice is deep, tough.

"Um, well, I guess it goes back in the stock room. It's this way." Bobby leads the way. Close-up of his out of shape ass as he walks, cut to close-up of the top's bemused expression.

Close-up of Bobby's face as he walks: He nervously sneaks near glances over his shoulder at the man walking behind him with the handtruck and crate. Sound track of creaking wooden floor and awkward silence, Bobby blushes.

Make it obvious when they pass the men's room. Mr. Delivery Man notes the sign on the door, sideways glance at the marshmellow walking in front of him.

Prolong this with a two-shot of them walking from behind, moving away from camera, with the men's room at frame-edge. Adjust lighting to show off the star's physique. He should be wearing Carrhart's or Levi's standard button-downs. Close-fitting work pants, comfortable fit [not absurdly tight], and a dark belt.

Cut to close-up of the handtruck being withdrawn from under the carton. Zoom out to two-shot of them in a nondescript, poorly lit room with shelves and boxes. Use a bare bulb in a wide tin cone as the only lighting. Show his readyness to leave, and impatience with Bobby. He hands him the signoff clipboard.

Bobby, confused by his puppy love horniness, is speechless, breathless. He clumsily signs the signature, hands it back. He realizes the encounter might be over; show his panic; then he gets an idea. He falls to his knees to read a label at the bottom of the crate, whipping off his glasses. Inches from his knee is the man's boot. Show a quick close-up of this.

Looking up at the star, he says: "I'm supposed to get the BHS number off the label." Now, on his knees, he can't help himself. When lowering his eyes from the man's eyes, he lingers a little longer on the substantial bulge in the man's pants.

Now, as he pretends to copy the number onto his clipboard, the guy says:

"Hey, you know there's something I've been wanting to ask you since I first saw you."

Bobby looks up at the man. "Oh? Yes?..."

Pornstar looking down right into camera:"You know where I could find a good cocksucker around here?"

Close-up profile of of Bobby: he gulps, smiles, looks up, then down, slackjawed. Now, half smiling, opening his mouth wide and openly ogling the man's cock, he says "I'm a good cocksucker" whispering the word "Sir" at the end, afraid to really say it aloud, looking up worshipfully. Slight zoom-out showing two-shot of Bobby's tongue-licking mouth and the Talent's hand fingering his stiffening penis in his pants.

Up-shot into the man's searingly handsome face: "Yeah, that's what I figured. I saw you and I thought to myself: "Yup, that boy's got "blowjob" written all over his face."

Close-up of him chuckling, montage this: he unbuckles, unzips, whips it out, and grabbing Bobby's head, puts it deep into his wide open mouth.

[end of first 3 minutes of film]

Now, standard porn movie cocksucking can begin. Move it along by montage, showing Bobby very soon mostly naked, maybe just socks. The Top wears a dark, sweat stained teeshirt that displays his muscles, and Bobby pushes it up occasionally to show the abs and pecs.

He never takes off his boots or pants, which never go below his knees. He should be really handsome, but scruffy, blue collar. Continue with camera shots showing his aft side, shoulders, buns, etc. Pan from these to close ups of Bobby swallowing the man's cock.

Use the questioning and interrupting techniques [see my other postings] and allow the Top to improvise, keeping the focus on his dick and the blowjob action.

Directors always want to extend a good thing, so segue with an abrupt close up of the Top looking down, saying: "Hey, you know what, I gotta take a piss." Fade to the bathroom door from before, fade to next scene, by the urinals.

Lather, rinse, repeat, that's how you fill an hour long DVD!

This is Lee, a guy I serviced regularly for almost 20 years.


Tuesday, June 28, 2011

A Study in Contrasts

I like contrast. When all the guys in the movie are super hot, well, that's OK, but for there to be excitement, there must be 'frisson,' that is, a sense of definition, which I believe intensifies the passion. If I could direct porn movies, they'd be a lot different. And in real life, that's how I've always directed my own sexual encounters.

First, make it more realistic by exaggerating the differences! Have a hot, very Masculine man, paired with a boyish, awkward submissive. Then, instead of the Top saying "Yeah, suck it" over an over in a stupor, create dialogs. Establish the scene very quickly with wide shots, then focus on the action, that is, the appealing attributes of the Top.

Make the script about the shared admiration of both parties for the Top, and don't get tangled up in fancy props or plots. This little clip illustrates the principle well, with it's Bergmanesque austerity, and rigid assertion of roles. Anyway, that's just my two cents worth in case anyone wants to let me direct a film!


Monday, June 27, 2011

He Blasted His Load, and I Took it With a Smile!



Testosterone builds up in a man's balls something fierce. It makes him cocky, and makes him think with his cock, constantly reminding him of it's desire to penetrate something, anything. Even though he probably fucked his wife/girlfriend that very morning, and even the night before, his cockhead still craves attention. He thinks: "Hmm, maybe a some hungry, wet boy-mouth would be nice on my lunch break." So he heads to an office building he knows of, where there are a lot of vacancies. That's where I come in.

For about a year, when I lived [stationed] in Spain, I serviced this guy a couple times a week in the third floor men's room in an old office building, kneeling on a tile floor, next to a giant wall-floor urinal big enough to bathe in.

We first met in a place a few blocks away, where there was no privacy, and then he took me to the 3rd floor toilet. The first time we met was so hot, in the busy place, I'll never forget it, even though it only happened that one time. All of the subsequent meetings are like a long blur, always in the same setting, so the time we met is still a wonderful memory. I was at a suckhole overlooking a long floor/wall urinal that I had been spending time at. I had seen several mouth watering sausages, but never had gotten to suck one, because of the way the place was set up.

One day this guy walks in and he knew I was at the hole when he walked in, and he looked right it, as I ogled his crotch. He was a stern looking Hispanic daddy, with a big moustache and big hands, about 6 feet high, about 35. When he flopped his cock out, he was pissing in about half a second, a full force stream which I'm sure was already eroding the enamel at the back of the urinal. In that first half second, I gasped audibly, and I'm sure he heard it. I could only see his hand on his hip, his belt, and a long thick uncut dong gushing piss.

From the other side, he used his fingers to flop it, and milk it, and as I showed him my lips and tongue through the hole, his big shiny helmet started to emerge from the wrinkled nozzle. Then, the entire length of his shaft began standing straight out, perpendicular to his thigh, curving up insolently.

Still pissing.

Finally, when he got to the last few squirts, he abruptly turned and put it into the hole! My mouth, already glued like a suction cup to the rim of the crudely hacked wooden partition, captured his last urinatings, the hard knob knocking against my quivering lips, squirts of hot piss splashing down my gulping, thirsty throat.

And then, I was utterly crushed to have him withdraw just as suddenly, pull away, and put it [with some difficulty] back into his pants. He pulled up his zipper and adjusted his belt. Someone had come in, and now, he was leaving! Through that wet, slippery, cruel and taunting hole, I could see him, walking away, swaggering right out of my life!

Feverishly, I clambered out the door of the stall, pulling up my pants at the same time, and made my way past other people and out to the sidewalk. I was ecstatic to see him standing at the corner, furtively gesturing down a side street with his eyes. I could see his dick in his pants, and looked directly at it. He took off walking, and I followed, lusting at the hardness of his manly buns a couple blocks ahead, my taste buds and sinuses fragrant with his nutty, salty, virile flavor.

All of this happened only once, because from then on he would tell me when to be there, so I never got to see him outside that 3rd floor men's toilet.But that day, I followed him about five blocks, and then when he turned to go into the entrance of an old building, he stopped, and held three fingers pointing up, looking up into the building. Quick like a bunny I followed, running up creaky old stairways, to a creaky wooden hallway on the third floor. Doors with frosted glass windows lined both sides, with light from the outside windows illuminating them from behind the empty offices.

Towards one end, was the men's room. I entered what would become for the next year, a holy spot, a place of sheer ecstasy that will sustain me forever. It was there that I really began to understand cock worship, and where I first felt truly subjugated, as if my brain and consciousness had been replaced by a huge throbbing cockhead, around which I had opened my face and throat to utter submission, providing a mindless, hungry, eager and happy orifice for a man to use HIS way, However the Fuck He Wants.

He came really fast that first time, because I'm sure walking all that way with that big thing half hard only massaged it more. His balls were fully tightened, and almost immediately he had my head wrapped in both of his hands and was pushing his cock down my well trained deep throat, groaning in amazement and delight as I swallowed the knob well past my glottis without gagging. He fed me a big sloppy load and was gone before I knew what happened, but not without telling me to be there on Thursday at the same time. Lots of times he came really quick, but sometimes he'd extend it with some face slapping or piss play.

Well, as I said, he used me to pleasure his big cock about 75 or 100 times over that year, and I just hated to leave. I still want to go back. He had a big gold wedding ring so I think he's stable. Just musing. Anyway, after a while he got more inventive, and in the really hot part of the summer he rewarded me with some cooling showers.

I adored him because he enjoyed all kinds of cockworship, from aggressive skull-fucking to foreskin cockhead cum cheese tease, but he wouldn't fuck me, and made fun of me for begging him to.

Oh well, I made up for lost time with Dan, Mike, Sean, Tony, Steve, and so many countless more men who have blown their loads into me I can't name....anyhookisses kiddos

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Coming Up For Air

Rip Van Suckle, that's me! Anyway, I'm back for a brief taste, posting this delightful video, which I'm not going to name so it won't get flagged. It's full of sexy, half-nude Italian men, horsing around in the countryside, with lots of subtle dick-play.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Sucking Master's Cock

I took some video stills of me sucking Dan's cock - i've been servicing that thing 2 or 3 times a month since 1983 !!! I just got the picture [at the bottom of this post] of Him from when he was in 'Nam, when He was 19! What a fucking STUD! Now He's a mature Daddy, and i'm His personal cocksucker, and he still gets so hard i can barely take it when he's squirting, but believe me, i do, even if i'm seeing stars from not breathing, because the satisfaction of the Man's cock is Job #1 for this Very Horny Little Cocksucker.....



There have been many year-long stretches when He wanted it sucked a couple times a week, just dropping in for a quick one on His way home from work, and a lot of times, when He stays longer, He comes twice in a night, letting me groom Him in between blowjobs. I spend the entire evening on the floor at His feet, giving Him total service, fetching His beers, loading the bowl, trimming His cigar, and hanging on His every word, etc.

The first time He let me suck it, He answered an ad i had put in a paper, [long before the 'net] and came over for a blo-n-go, and then I didn't see Him for a YEAR! When he called again i was in sheer ecstasy, because i had been thinking of Him constantly, yearning for His call. After that, though, His demands were frequent and constant, and i've been there every minute. We go camping sometimes, and He lets me suck it in the great outdoors, under bridges, in parking lots - -- He's so dreamy!

One time in the 80s, He came 5 TIMES in one night - we did some acid and never slept. He took me out to breakfast but I didn't eat much... i was full of His hot sperm, and my mouth and throat felt like the Holland Tunnel - so breakfast wasn't very appealing. But it was thrilling to be with Him in a truck stop restaurant full of men, coming down from the acid with my face covered in a fine veneer of smooth, dried snot, semen, and spit. Much better than pancakes!

Sunday, October 18, 2009