Reflective Moment

Monday afternoon and facing the seriousness of a new week - aren't we all? Sex was sorted out on Saturday night - so no sense of any unfinished business. Though I reckon rooting does give me direction and drive - and after, there are a few rubberless moments ... days.

But then I force my brain onto other things. So I completed the draft of an article I've been writing on my area in semiotic theory, and got this off to a friend, and to an academic acquaintance. No replies yet - why didn't they get up in the middle of the night, read it and respond (in detail) in the early hours? So self - nothing to do with me being impatient or demanding at all!!!

Another buddy's back from India and flush with photos and stories so I'd better front up for the debriefing. It'll be good cos the sub-continent is one of my all-time favorite travel destinations.

So then I started reflecting on a magical journey through Rajasthan, and in particular Varanassi (old Benares).

Along the Ganges:



People at work and rest:



Mourners on the river at dusk:


Laundry day:

Monkey raids on the hotel balcony:


A holy man - a saddhu:


India is truly one of the magical places!

Ultimate Zen Journey - The Snail Trail (and The Bush)

The trail can be everything (almost - don't wanna get too carried away here!). Even though it's just the sign-post to the Promised Land. Just the wine in the Holy Grail. Just ... well, you get the picture. ...But it's the pedestal, essential to present the object of desire. Imagine the Portland Vase sitting on the ground. It won't play.

This first one is a modest and well-mannered trail (ack. Bach) ... but scorching and mind-numbingly hot. Who cares about his Mister Willy-Bonker?

And another trail in the same pyrotechnique league:

Now I am also a fan of the trail-less bush. This can work. I think the key is: dark, dense, compact and very very thick:


Confession time - the second one is my very first bush photo. Of course, I feel a bit shy sharing this with you - it seems so intimate and special! LOL

Of course, the bush can be beautifully supported by a minimal even diffuse trail (role reversal stuff here!), especially if it's an olympic gold medal winning bush:


Now, compare all these hair-suit (joke - can spell) nirvanas with the mangy flea-bitten carpet of an effort below - no contest. At all. Mmmmm - but then again, taking a second look at this near-hairless crotch ... ! That's one hot piece of meat - fuck the trail! Or lack there of.

As I just said, manicuring can be excessive, but it can also be good:


A final note (and the ultimate justification) - a trail can be a stand-alone:

Sean Ellis and Mona Lisa

Sean arrested my eye cos he had such a terrific big ............. smile. And such dazzling blue eyes. Dimples - 12 out of 10. Oh well - 15.

Mona Lisa is creaking and straining in her frame. Nothing doing - can't get beyond that now-very-passe enigmatic look. 'Merde merde merde!!! Encore une fois!' (said with a thick Italian accent).

This time, the painting almost falls into the floor. The glass shatters. 'Pedi!'

And after a brief pause - 'Bakla!' (something she picked up from a cute foreign visitor last week, and has been dying to use ever since)

Actually, I don't think I've noticed if there is a thing at the other end - even yet. Is there one? Could be. Who knows? Or cares? ... .




Oh, right! Just noticed it. Maybe that's what knocked the smile off his face!

Daniel Erthal - An Encore

An encore .

The second photo is not quite the 'standard' (whatever that means?!) of those in the the original post - maybe Damiel was thinking bout something unrelated to being hot and gorgeous for us! Selfish bastard!!! We are so demanding.

But I kinda wonder why I didn't post the others! Just a bitta o lunacy on my part!

For Blackgold - Hope you enjoy!

A Clear-Skinned Clear-Eyed Cutie

I'm still in a fairly romantic mood. And this didn't change a bit when I saw this seriously clear-skinned cutie on the Corbin Fisher site:

But he gets me itchy and distractedly hot too. It's the sweet but seductive cum-on smile. Maybe it's a little too confident, but can I blame him? Don't think so!

I just wanted to push him back on the bed, roll ontop, and hold him down, arms back above his head. And then, after a pause, I wrap my mouth round his lips and suck them. Then, licking around his teeth, I slid my tongue inside, and over his own hard pushing tongue.

Then the temperature sky-rockets. As his big fleshy hairless balls pump his cock up. He twists his nipples - you know how, when someone does this and you're real hot for them, you feel the sensation sharply in ya own pecs. And to nail you, he gets that hard 'fuck me' look in his eyes.

And he starts to jerk himself and ya heart starts to race and ya breathing's heavier:

And you go down and his musky-smelling dick drives you mad. It curve up, so when he rolls you over, he can just work it into ya hole, no hands. Small head so it easily goes in, but he then has to push harder as the shaft is much fatter:

He holds it up to try to get you to sit on it. Just as you plan to jump it!

He starts to groan, deep down, and you know it's cumming. He pumps out a few drops but it's not enough - you wanna a wet gusher. But you can forgive him!


But he makes up for this by going for ya load, woofing it down:



With a cummy 'yum!' to finish:


This young bloke is perfect!

Daniel Erthal and Vanilla Essence

I've been in a fairly raunchy mood of late, as you might guess from my last few posts. Then I came across blond Daniel Erthal:

And I started to go serious vanilla. A long romantic kissing session, to be specific. This teasing almost girly photo put me in that particular state of mind:

And this one kept me there:

Then I was real excited by him apparently (half?) refusing me something:

Then delighted again as he offered me the back of his neck for kissing - I smelt the sweet dampness under his hair:

In this soft romantic haze, his armpit was disturbing, almost indecent:

A close-up, as he says 'good-bye':

He's wondering whether to see me again. Open-mouthed and fingering his chin and lip - the semiotics of 'I might'.

Reese Rideout and the Attack of the Killer Dildos

It's Saturday night, and not a hard cock in sight. And no prospects. What's a bloke to do?

Well, one answer is often closer at hand than you think - you know, hidden away from nosey relatives and prudish fag friends somewhere at the back of ya wardrobe.

Now Reese Rideout (love his name - no more needs to be said) is over-privileged - he has two different kinds of self-abuser.

So, in the first two photos below he gives himself a thorough working over with a tried-and-true solid rubber job - easily getting it in, right up to its 'balls' - though, through the expression on his face, he pretends it's real hard to take. Slut - it probably hardly touched the sides of his hole as he sucked it in!!!


Then for some variety, he turns to a battery-operated model. Which, as you can see in the last photo, has the advantage of no-hands self-abuse. But if that's not enough excitement, you could wag ya butt like a dog for a bit. Well, at least till the next better idea cums into ya mind.




PS Love the way he arches his legs and feet in the first two photos - I could cum just over that.