Sunday, December 25, 2011

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

I know that it is a sex blog cliche to post pics with Santa hats on Christmas, but indulge me, this is my first Christmas as a blogger.

I wish you all well and many presents.
I wish you all the joy of loved ones
or the joy of quiet solitude.

I wish you all a Happy Christmas.

And to those of you who don't celebrate, have a fun day off from work,
and enjoy your Chinese food.

Look, I even unwrapped a gift for you:

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Where's My Tropical Christmas?

First, I would like to say that this is just another fun post for the holiday season. I'm still swamped with extended hours at work, and don't have much time to write up blog posts. I did come up with this blog idea during a slow spell at work yesterday, however, and wanted to write it up and post it. I hope you enjoy and that you all have a safe and happy holiday.

Below the stuffed animals is where I hid your sex toys.

OK, so there is not horrible snowy weather preventing my movements and no absolute zero temperatures to deal with, but this weekend I am still left to wonder where my tropical holiday trip ran away to. Thanks to various aspects of my life, most of my recent holiday seasons have been spent at least half way down the East Coast, if not all the way down to Florida. I posted an entry back in September about one of my trips down to Disney World, which might give you an idea of why I like going there so much. When I'm in Florida (be it at Disney World or any other part) I enjoy spending a lot of time lounging either by the pool or on the beach in just a small speedo-style suit, happily showing off for all the men and women walking by. I like jogging in dangerously short shorts and no top, outdoor showers, and the off chance that some cutie might ask me to help with their lotion.

This year, however, I'm staying mostly in the Boston area, with maybe a quick trip back up to Maine at some point. There will be no lounging on the beach, as I'm sure Cape Cod will be frightfully cold with the wind off the ocean. There will be no running around in my shorts, because the idea of frost bite is not appealing to me. And sadly there will be no cuties of either gender wandering by my nearly-nude body and asking for some sunscreen help. So what is a horny young man to do with his time?

Believe it or not, I'm actually planning a lot of hours snuggled on my couch with either a book to read or a DVD to watch. I'm more than a little behind in my TV shows on DVD thanks to a heavy amount of purchasing in a very short time (I'm a sucker for Amazon sales). Yes, your friendly neighborhood Ace is planning days of cozy comfort in the coming season, unless I have work, of course. And the coming weeks might see me venturing out to the bars again and perhaps picking up a cute boy or two. Or maybe a bear. Or a hairy muscle daddy with an ass I could munch on for weeks. Mmm...pardon me while I wipe up my drool.

I've been so busy lately with school and work and my own problems that I have sort of slacked off on the meeting new people plan I had set in place. Maybe my New Years resolution should be to get out more and have more fun. Hell, I definitely deserve it. Besides, I've been in the city for three months now and I've hardly put a dent in the bottom population on my block, much less the rest of the city. I'd be ashamed if I weren't so dreadfully in love with myself (kidding). Time to make my name around here...

Friday, December 23, 2011

Festivus (for the rest of us)

Festivus Pole: No tinsel, no problem.

Today is December 23, and you know what that means: Time to break out the Festivus pole, air your grievances, and challenge others to feats of strength. For those of you who are slightly confused about what I mean when I say Festivus, you can click here to read up on the fake and fun holiday. Basically, it is a fake holiday that became popular after appearing in Seinfeld, and is supposed to represent a holiday for those of us who are sick and tired of (or maybe just too poor to take a part in) the over commercialization of the current December holidays. While it was first introduced to me as a joke by my father and my father's family (none of which I ever saw watching Seinfeld, so that confused me a bit in later years), I actually enjoy the socio-economic statement behind the humor. I mean, this year I saw Christmas decorations out before Halloween had gone by. That has to be pushing things a bit much. It reminds me of the old Charlie Brown Easter special when they go to the mall and there are already signs up about shopping for the next Christmas. But Christmas isn't the only offender. Most major religions have holidays this time of year, and most of the symbolism of those holidays in lost in consumerism. I'm not objecting to that, I happen to like being a consumer, I find it interesting. I mean, when you take a step back and look at it, what does it really say about our culture?

But enough of the deep, meaningful thought-thinking and what-not. Festivus is a day of fun and revelry, and also a day of realizing that you still haven't sent out those Christmas cards and you STILL have no idea what to buy for your mother. Or maybe that is just me. I get a little slack this year because I was without a job for six months while still paying for college, my rent, and other living expenses, so no one is really expecting much from me, but I know plenty other people who are last minute shoppers. In fact, I spent all day yesterday, and will spend all day today (and maybe even tomorrow) selling to them at my job. Let me tell you: it is constant go, go, GO this time of year when you work at a cash register. For my fellow retail workers, shall we all grab our swollen feet and cry together when the holidays are finally over?

In case I don't have a chance to post any more before the holidays are done with, I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Yule, and Glorious Festivus. Thank you so much to the readers who have sent me gifts so far! I have really been enjoying piling the boxes and packages up in anticipation of opening them. Those of you who want to buy me something while the winter holiday sales are still in effect, can check out my Amazon wishlist for some ideas (and don't worry about trying to get it shipped before Christmas). I also love emails, Facebook messages, Tweets, and comments. Be sure and have happy and safe holidays everyone!


Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Steven at Christmas

Please pardon me if this post is less coherent than usual. I didn't get much time to relax yesterday thanks to a mouse terrorizing me most of the day. Won't go in too much detail, but let's just say the entrance to my kitchen is blocked off by boxes. Also, any of you last minute shoppers still have time to cash in on some holiday deals. I've already gotten some gifts from readers, and while I'm not opening any until Christmas (mostly because they're about the only gifts I'm going to get this year), I can say that I look forward to taking pictures with any and everything that gets sent my way. And, of course, I will share those pictures with all you fine readers.

It has been way too long since I wrote about my first boyfriend, the wrestler, Steve. If I had to give a reason for this, it would be partly because I didn't feel like exploring this old relationship, and partly because I wanted to save this particular story for Christmas season. I suppose this is what could be considered the "Christmas Special" of my life. Not the last time I had sex around Christmas, but definitely the most memorable of all my experiences so far. I even came up with a lame little rhyme about it:

Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the place
not a creature was stirring
except for our Ace

The stalkings were hung
by the chimney with care
the furnace turned up
'gainst the cold winter air

When all of a sudden
Ace made a commotion
excited to see Steve's car
in the street (still in motion)

Steve parked in the driveway
he raced to the door
where he and Ace hugged
as if they'd never done it before

Enough of that foolishness. Basically, my mother had left to spend Christmas Eve with her sister, and my father was going to be picking me up the next morning to go to his own family thing, setting a precedent for leaving me alone on holidays (not as bad as it sounds, honest). That meant I had the house to myself that night, and that was something Steve and I were damn well going to take advantage of. A quick explanation to his parents that I was going to be alone that night was all it took for them to allow him to visit me and spend the afternoon and evening. Like I have said before, his parents liked me and thought that Steve was acting as an older brother I didn't have, which worked for us as far as sneaking around went.

Within moments of him walking through the door, we were both naked and making out on the couch. With his cock pressing against me as hard as it was, I couldn't do anything but pull my legs back and let him enter me. It was a quick fuck, spurred on by how horny we were to be alone in my house for the whole afternoon after not having seen much of each other over the school break. After we simply enjoyed each other's company, kissing, groping, dozing off in each other's arms. We watched movies and talked and kissed some more.

When it was dinner time I started heating up some food for us and he pulled out a bottle of wine (that's right, underage sex and underage drinking, what a blog!). I politely sipped the wine, but I wasn't very interested. Back then I thought the fruity flavor was gross and hated the after taste. Steve didn't drink too much either, though it was clear that he was much more used to drinking wine than I was. Just another way that he was cooler and way more mature than I was, at the time.

After dinner I started a fire in the fireplace, even though my mother had told me not to. We curled under a blanket and cuddled for a while. Then Steve pulled out a box and handed it to me. Inside were three things. The first was a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly, and the second was a nice shirt, both things which must have cost him some serious cash (to a fourteen year old at least). The last item was more of a sexy/cute gift: a pair of small green boxers with little bells made to look like something an elf would wear. We both laughed with the joy of youth while I posed in my new, sexy elf shorts. Before long the shorts were on the floor and we were naked and fooling around again.

Steve stayed later than he was supposed to, partially because I refused to stop clinging to him. Sitting in the dim living room in the flashing lights from the tree, we talked about everything and nothing and held each other close. When the clock on the TV turned to midnight, Steve pulled me in for a deep, soothing kiss. "Merry Christmas," he said softly to me. It was the first time I ever felt perfectly in love with someone. When I think back on my time with Steve, that moment often is the one that I see first. I returned his Christmas wishes and then watched as he dressed and drove away.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Formspring and My Odd Life

As I am typing this entry, I'm taking a break from cuddling in bed with one of my ex-girlfriends and her current girlfriend. My ex and I actually look a lot alike, except for the fact that she is a girl and I am a guy, and her girlfriend keeps telling us that we should have sex because we look like twins. She thinks that would be very hot. Around the fifth time she tried to wake us up (we are both deep sleepers) by talking us into fucking, I realized that there are some aspects of my life that I really don't share with most people. My current situation being just one example of these aspects. As often as I wander through life thinking that I don't have much of anything interesting going on, you would expect me to be very boring. But maybe the reason I feel so bored by these things is because they are so common place in my life. I guess I am living a strange life after all.

Of course, on some level, I am always aware that I walk a unique path. After all, I wouldn't be keeping this blog and telling you all about my strange goings-on if I truly thought I was dull. I think that sometimes I just need a little reminder. Like when work/school/family/money/whatever has me down, I need a reminder that I am actually a pretty cool, fairly foxy, and wildly interesting person. Believe it or not, I don't think that about myself all the time (though I go on about myself enough to make you wonder). It makes me truly glad to be around and living my life and sharing it online like I do. And I wanted to share this life-affirming moment with you too.

Now: on to the questions for the week! As always, you can send me more questions on my Formspring page, or just email them to me. I love answering them and you all have thought of some really creative ones lately. Some have even been challenging to answer. Very cool!

If you were to have your next workday off by surprise, what would you do on it?

Oh dear gods, I would sleep and sleep and read and sleep and maybe sleep too. Oh, and order pizza. And sleep.

Which feature or body part on a man (and a woman) catches your attention the most?

On a woman, I would say the legs and the hair. The perfect woman for me has great looking, smooth, muscled legs (preferably in heels), and long hair down to her waist. That really does it for me.

For guys, I prefer at least a little fur. A little beard or some chest hair is great. A guy with big hands is nice too, because I like to hold and be held by big hands.

How were your grades in school, and how did you do on standardized tests?

In high school I was mostly an honor role student, except for when I slipped into a bad depression and couldn't keep up with my homework. In college I was an A student, with a few exceptions, two of which involved professors who hated me.

As far as standardized tests go, I usually rock them. My SAT, ACT, and GRE scores were all very competitive. I view standardized tests as a game. All you really need to know is the type of answer that corresponds with a certain kind of question. They are only hard if you try to actually know everything on them.

Very unique question. Thanks.

Feeling good? Better?

I am definitely doing better than I have been, but the combination of various stressful situations in my life and sleep deprivation has certainly been...tough. I thank everyone for their concern.

When you have anal sex, do you prefer to top? Have you ever bottomed?

I definitely prefer to top. I am a top in so many ways. I don't know why, but I am somehow able to flip most tops that I meet and reconnect them with the idea of bottoming. I am equally good with virgins as with power bottoms, and I love doing what I do. That being said, when I was younger and first starting out in sex, I was a total bottom, and probably a power bottom slut. It took me a while to switch to top, but since I have, only one man has ever topped me. As much as I do find pleasure from anal stimulation, I just think I am much better at topping.

Have you ever participated in a threesome comprised of yourself, a woman, & another man?

I have. Multiple, in fact. Of both the bisexual (men touch) and heterosexual (men do not touch) variety. I have had the odd threesome with two women, but that is a situation that is very hard to negotiate, and can cause problems if it is not handled well. Why do you ask? Are you and a lady-friend interested in one?

What's your favorite physical feature about yourself?

Do I have to answer this? There are so many features that I don't like...I guess I like my hair, based on how much I care for it. I have very nice teeth too. And my cock isn't so bad.

People are always telling me I have a nice ass, though. I have to say, once I saw it in the mirror and was impressed.

That's all for this week. I'm still in the busy season of the year with work and everything, so I'm not sure how much I'll be posting. On days I work I don't usually get home until 9:30-10pm and have to make dinner, so I have less time for fooling around. But mark my words: This nut will get shot!

Friday, December 16, 2011

Three-Way Eye-Fuck

I'm still caught up in the Attack of the Busy Life to the point where I'm falling behind in blog reading and emails (sorry to those of you still waiting for me to catch up; be patient and I'll get there). Needless to say, I haven't had a chance to blow off all the steam I'm building up, but there was a fun little experience I had recently while on my way to work.

I was on the subway with a book in my hand, which is arguably my usual position on the subway. I felt a prickling at the back of my neck that was distracting me from dreading the shift I was going to be working and glanced up to be greated with a latino hottie looking at me. Sure, you're probably thinking, of course he was looking at you smoking hot body and mane of golden blonde heaven. And normally I would agree with you, but I actually don't get scoped out on my way to work that often. Or if I do, I'm not noticing it. I was surprised and excited by this cute boy looking me over like so much candy to be licked and eaten.

He and I began to pose for each other a bit. He took off his coat and flexed his arms in his shirt, pivoting so that I could see his ass. I spread my legs, casually drawing attention to where my tight jeans met my crotch. We were basically cruising each other in front of all the other passengers on the train, only they didn't notice. I began to think about how badly I wanted to skip work and do all kinds of terrible things to that cute ass of his.

My thoughts were put on hold for a moment when another piece of eye meat, this one a white, blonde, scruffy boy, came on the train. At the same time both I and the latino began mentally taking off his trendy grey coat and unzipping his sexy jeans when he caught us staring. The eye-fucking began again, only this time it was three of us posing and staring and wiping tiny bits of drool at the corner of our mouths (OK, maybe that last one was just me). I was thinking of how badly I wanted to take both of these young men home with me and have one on top of the other, both asses facing me, so I could eat out the white guy while fucking the latino's bubble, then switching them until I finally came.

Unfortunately, like all good things, our mutual appreciation of each other had to come to an end. But I was left with the memory of the sexy latino's smouldering eyes as he looked at me through the window one last time, and I gripped my hardened cock for him.

Oh, and I was left with the picture I took of his ass.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Busy Busy Busy

I'm sorry that I've missed a few days that I normally post to the blog. As usual, holiday seasons make it tough to post regularly because of everything that is going on (not to mention, my first semester at grad school just finished). Allow me to explain some of what will be making my posts a bit more sporadic in the coming weeks.

Aside from those of you who follow me on Twitter, and those of you I've mentioned this to in emails, many of you probably don't know that I now have a job. The reason I haven't made a big deal out of this is because, while it is money, it is hardly the saving grace I need. On average I am working 6-8 hours a week, which isn't too bad, and doesn't take up that much time. This is, however, the season when everyone is pulling out all the stops. To give you an idea of what that means for me: The week leading up to Christmas I will be working Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. The severity of that schedule means that by the time Christmas morning hits, I may be too crazed to do much besides drink and smile with faux entusiasm at gifts other people are getting.

If that sounds dreary, welcome to my Christmases.

And I did recently finish up my first semester at grad school which, while rewarding, was just mentally draining towards the end. Having a ten-page paper due one week and then a fifty-page paper due the very next week in one class was a bit much, but I made it through. I might have caught a cold, and I might have just been fired, but whatever the reason, when I got home from working an extended shift late Saturday night and sprawled out on the couch after dinner, I woke up the next morning as my alarm went off having never gotten up and gone to bed. So tired I am and tired I will be in the forseeable future.

On top of my growing work schedule (and increased responsibility at work) I have to impending doom of Family Drama coming my way, and the added fun of having to explain to people that I can't make it to the middle of Maine Christmas morning this year because of how late I will be working the night before. And on top of that, I know someone performing in the Boston Ballet production of The Nutcracker and there is definitely an obligation to go see that show because of it. I don't have a problem with that, really. I love ballet, and the Boston Ballet and I have a long history going back to before I was born when my mom and dad met Rudolf Nureyev in the early 80s (before he became HIV positive) at a party in the city, and it has kind of been a thing ever since for us (though my increasingly conservative father now avoids ballet). What I have a problem with is finding a way to pay for my ticket and getting to the show (which happens to be performed right around the time I'm normally working). I'll figure it out, but man will it be hard.

While I realize that this post has mostly been an excuse for not writing, I would like to add that there will be posts. You can count on it. Even if I don't get to fuck around before Christmas or even 2012, I have some wonderful stories from my past that are Christmas-y that I am sure you'll all enjoy.

Thanks for hanging in with me. You guys (and gals) rock.

Friday, December 9, 2011


I have recently been a part of a few conversations online dealing with the topic of erotic hypnosis. Personally, I have little hands-on experience with hypnosis, but a lot of theoretical knowledge of how it should work, so hearing from people who have actually been a part of erotic hypnosis sessions has been very interesting to me. For those who don't know, the difference between erotic hypnosis and regular hypnosis is, essentially, that all the suggestions given to the person who is under are sexual in nature. They can range from the suggestion to get an erection whenever a certain word or phrase is spoken, to imagining an entire sexual scenario while in a hypnotic state.

My own experience with hypnosis has been incredibly short-lived. I attempted to get hypnotised by a professional once just for entertainment purposes, but I was told that I'm not receptive to induction and suggestion. I'm not entirely surprised by this, as the way suggestions work in hypnosis is they basically lower your inhibitions to do certain acts by telling you there is no reason not to do them, that you have permission. The problem with that in relation to me, is that when someone suggests something to me, I have an almost immediate reaction of at first not wanting to do the act at all, then closely examining why the person would suggest it, and ultimately deciding for myself if it is a good idea. For example, if I were put under (which I'm apparently very resistent to anyway), and someone were to sugest I pretend I was a dog, I would first think, "No way!" Then I would think, "Why would they want me to pretend I am a dog? What are they getting from this?" I guess you could say I'm stubborn as a mule. I blame my parents.

I first learned about erotic hypnosis while I was arbitrarily surfing the internet early one morning my Sophomore year of college. I have a funny habit of soothing my insomnia or boredom or whatever by just clicking links online and absorbing all the information I can. It is why I know so much about so many different topics. I'm not sure exactly how I found the information or what spurred me on to the erotic aspects of hypnosis, but I believe I found the topic on some BDSM related site and explored further to find entire sites dedicated to recording and selling inductions and suggestions for a whole range of erotic purposes. I found the whole thing incredibly interesting. This wasn't just a fantasy, these people actively studied and perfected the art of hypnosis and suggestion to mold their submissives or slaves into more cooperative and happy individuals, as well as to exert that extra bit of power over those they owned. And the people getting hypnotised were just as active, sampling suggestion tracks and breaking them apart to make sure nothing harmful was ever suggested.

I actually ended up writing a report on the culture I found on these sites for a deviant behavior class I was taking (back when I still mistakenly thought I would get a job as a criminal sociologist). The culture and community I found in those forums so interested me and drew me in that, even after the paper was written, I would still frequent the sites to see how everyone was doing. Many had journals detailing their experiences with certain suggestions and how their Master/Mistress was controlling them. I was hooked and I wanted to try it out.

I downloaded a few of the files and quickly learned that I did not know much about hypnosis at all. That is how I started reading up on the theory of hypnosis, and ways to better induce people into a trance state. By the time summer hit that year, however, I had moved on from my fascination to other things. However, I still remembered the interest in the back of my mind, which is how I got brought in to the conversations online.

The first conversation was very straight forward. It was me talking to a Dominant and a submissive about their experiences with hypnosis and their own interests in it, while I professed my lack of experience, but heavy interest in the topic. The second conversation, however, brought me into the practice of erotic hypnosis.

The two men I was talking to that day had a session that I was not a party to while I was working on school work. When I came back online, what had been done, was done, and, much to my surprise, I was part of the suggestion that the Dominant and given His sub. The suggestion was a simple one: get hard when the trigger happens. It turns out that I was the trigger. Whenever I speak to that sub online now, he is triggered to respond by getting an erection. Nothing else, he isn't coaxed into jerking off no matter where he is or who he is with, but still, it is an interesting power to have over someone.

The experience has diffinetely renewed my interest in erotic hypnosis. As someone with a strong Dom streak in them, I have to admit to enjoying having the power of triggering an erection in someone whenever I want to (not that my extra-sexy looks don't do that anyway). I think I will be once again reading up on the topic in the hopes of some day practicing the art on a submissive of my own. Obviously there is a huge trust issue, both from the sub and from myself, so it will not happen soon, but when it does, I will write up a full report.

Incidentally, if any of my readers have experience with erotic hypnosis, whether with BDSM overtones or not, please let me know in the comments or emails. I would love to hear about it.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Ace Candy: The First Christmas Gifts

Recently I received my first Christmas presents from a reader and dear friend of mine who some of you will recognize from my comments section as boy johnny. As always, I am posting pictures of myself posing with the presents, this time in a suit I bought from C-IN2 years ago to tan in on a trip to Florida. The suit is not longer in stock. It has a small hole cut out in the side, and a built-in cock strap.

If you would like to buy me a Christmas present, I have a wishlist full of things I would love to model for my readers. I am, of course, extremely grateful for any gift I get.

Today, boy johnny gets extra awesome points for buying me the Lion King box set, as that is my favorite Disney movie. Thanks so much!

Enjoy the story I decided to tell with the pictures.

Once upon a time, two packages came in the mail.

One was large and green...

...The other thin and blue.

When King Ace opened the first one, he cried out in joy.

All three Lion King movies on BluRay and DVD? How wonderful!

The second package was another of King Ace's favorite films, The Kings Speech. This package was full of Kingly things!

"Come here, boy," King Ace said to the one who had given him the gifts.

"I've got a present I'd like to give you in return."

johnny knew exactly what King Ace had in mind.
johnny first sucked King Ace's cock to hardness, then bent over like a good boy...

...And he was rewarded with a load of Sir Ace's joyful, cum. A very happy ending.
 Thank you so much!

Monday, December 5, 2011

Romeo's Kids

As I mentioned in my first post dealing with Romeo, he had two kids, a boy and a girl, who he loved very much. They were young kids, and they lived mostly with their mother in a town about an hour drive away from Romeo, so he didn't get to see them very often. When they came to visit, they would often stay the night on his couch, which folded out, and play video games with him and his roommates (he lived with two guys who went to my college, even though he was about ten years older than all of us). He wasn't one of those guys who tries to throw pictures of his kids at you, and he certainly didn't only talk about them. But when they came up in the conversation, you could tell how much he loved them.

When they came up in a conversation with me, however, it was a reminder of why I could never get too attached to this man, no matter how much love he showered on me regularly.

Don't get me wrong, I love kids and I would not mind having kids with the right man or woman some day in my future, but being romantically involved with someone who has kids when you're only twenty-one is not an easy thing to do. He would tell me that they knew he was gay and were totally cool with it, but there is a difference between knowing that your father likes men and being introduced to the young, college kid your father is in a relationship with. Especially at the age his kids were. How do you react knowing that these kids will always see you as the "other man?" I felt like every time Romeo brought them up, I was being tested to see if I would be a good future step-father for them. Which makes perfect sense, from his perspective. But that is a type of scrutiny I was not (and still am not) prepared to be put under.

The awkward came to a head one night when he was texting me after he came home from work, asking me if I would like to come over. We were still in the early, whirlwind stages of our romance, and there would be nights I would stay up later than I normally would have just to see if he would text me when he was home, asking me over. But then one of his messages stopped me in my tracks: "Just be quiet when you come in, my kids are asleep on the couch."

"Your kids are over?" I replied back, thinking this was a bad idea.

"Yeah, they are spending the night. They're asleep, just come upstairs."

I hesitated. I didn't feel comfortable sneaking by his kids. Sure, I had pulled the quiet, tip-toe down the hall routine on his roommates in the past. But this was different. I was sneaking by two kids for the purpose of having sex with their father. And they knew who his roommates were. If I were to wake them, there would be no way to explain my intrusion. It all felt very bad to me.

But like I said, we were still in the whirlwind part of our romance. I let him talk me into walking over to his apartment. He had left the door unlocked so that I could just come in and come up to where his bedroom was. On the way over I tried to think about everything but how I was going to sneak past the kids. This, of course, had the opposite effect and I spent the walk reviewing every trick I had learned over a lifetime of sneaking by my parents and sneaking in and out of my house and sneaking men in and out of my dorm late at night. I felt like a criminal as I reviewed in my head ways in which I could get caught, things I could do to limit my detection (take my shoes off right at the door, moves swiftly and fluidly) and things that could cause me to get caught (loose floorboards I didn't know about).

When I finally got to his apartment, my heart was racing. I let him know I was outside and that I would be up soon. I entered, took my shoes off, and started making my way to the stairs. I was going by the fold-out bed when I heard a grunt and a shift. I froze, nearing panic, but not letting myself do anything that might wake someone who was merely rolling in sleep. When I was reassured by small, childrens' snoring (which sounds equally adorable and strange), I made my way up the stairs and to his room.

I felt exhausted by the energy of sneaking around, and I felt relieved when I was finally in Romeo's bed, holding him and kissing him. But I honestly don't remember much detail on the sex we had that night other that swallowing each other's loads at the end of it. And that is because the entire time we were with each other I had a niggling voice in the back of my head reminding me not to be too loud, or do too much, just in case one of his kids heard it and woke up. And there was always the chance one of his kids simply had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and they heard us through the wall. All-in-all, I was very reserved in bed that night.

When we were finished Romeo asked, "Do you want to spend the night here?"

If I was worried about explaining my sudden, late-night arrival to his kids or being caught while having sex, then the idea of having his kids first meet me the morning after I had snuck in like a thief and had sex with their father was horrifying. I couldn't believe he was even suggesting it as a possibility. The only true options I saw me having was to either leave then or hide in his room until the kids were gone the next morning. And I knew he wouldn't understand my reasoning on the second option, I knew he would try to force my hand and come downstairs to see the kids, so I made my excuse and left, as the saying goes.

I played petty thief one more time to go out the door, and when it was shut and locked I stood on the porch for a moment and looked down at my feet in the snow. My hands were shaking, but not with the sudden cold. "What am I doing?" I asked myself. I knew that this was a turning point for me. I was stuck at a cross-roads. I knew that this was not going to be the last time Romeo asked me over while his kids were there, and eventually he would want me there while they were awake. I had told him I wasn't looking for a serious relationship, but here he was, forcing my hand, even if he didn't know he was doing it. I have to believe he didn't know, because otherwise he was intentionally using his kids as leverage to force me into a more serious relationship, and I would like to think better of him than that.

There I was, only hours after having been in the whirlwind stage of my romance with Romeo, seeing the path that was leading to our separation. I felt bile in my mouth and tears in my eyes. It wasn't fair. I was the younger man, I wasn't the one with children, and yet I was the one who had decided that the romance was over. Even then, on that porch, I knew that my love affair with Romeo was over, it just hadn't snuffed out and died yet.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Formspring and a Heads-Up

I just wanted to give all you wonderful readers a heads-up that next week might be a bit lacking in posts. It is the last week of my school semester, so naturally everything is hitting pretty hard at the finish line here. I'm hoping to not have any real problems finishing everything, but who knows? I could get everything done very early, or I could be cramming in some last minute work to finish everything off to perfection. Being in graduate school, it is all the more important that I get good grades. And since I am strongly considering transferring to a different graduate program (due to some issues I have previously mentioned), I really need those grades to all be As so I can have a 4.0 transcript. Not that I don't usually get good grades, it is just more imperative that I don't slack off because of those circumstances.

On top of all of that stress, I have a friend who is going to be crashing on my couch for the next few weeks while she gets herself situated in a place of her own. I'm not anticipating that she will get in my way (I wouldn't have her over if I did), but there is always a chance her presence could make it hard to keep this blog. When I have guests over I generally feel the need to keep them entertained, so I might be spending a lot of time doing that too.

Anyway, just wanted to give you a heads-up. Like I said, this might not even be and issue, or I might not get a chance to post until next weekend. Either way, once all of the stress from college is over, I am going to need some major relax time. The bottoms in the city better beware, I will probably be on the prowl.

And now that we have that out of the way, time for some questions. I am getting close to the end of my stash, so I would really love it if you guys could ask me more on my Formspring page. Or, as always, you can send me an email with some questions and I'll be sure to include them in the next update. Thanks to everyone who has asked so far. I love answering these.

Is Standard or Received English dead? Have any of your courses limited you to it? (The question is serious. When, all too long ago, I went to college, contractions were allowed only in dialogue. Today . . . Ye Gods!)

I really don't see it as dead. Like all forms of English, it is a dialect and has it's place in speech. You will find that many (if not all) BBC anchors speak it on camera, and can be found spoken natively in Southern England. The only reason it is considered "standard" is because of the social status that dialect developed as it was spoken by the Royal Family. Other than that, it is really not any better or worse than other forms.

And yes, I did take a linguistics class.

Why not move to a warmer climate?

I would LOVE to live some place warmer, but there are a few reasons why I don't move. One major one is that I really don't have the money to drive from New England to some place farther south. To be where the winters don't require more than a hoodie would be lovely, but they are more than a day's drive in a U-Haul. I also don't have much money to hire movers, and I'm currently in a year-long lease on my apartment. Who knows what I'll do next year, but I suspect I'll be living in these parts for the forseeable future.

If you receive a call by someone who isn't aware of calling you because he or she paced that call mistakenly: Do you discreetly hang up or do you continue to listen in?

I usually take a while to realize what happened, but once I realize they called me by accident I will hang up and either call/text them to let them know they called me, or just leave it. I've never really been able to hear anything over the phone anyway, so it has never been a temptation.

Thanks for the insight on Standard English. You are no himbo, and the quip about Linguistics was to laugh. So is Standard English still expected in papers and exams (as in, say, Science), or are contractions and less formality now good enough?

Thanks. And yes, as far as papers go, it is expected that you will keep things more smooth than contractions and other dialect choices allow. A formal paper is expected to appear formal. If you are like me, then you know ways to still be funny or sarcastic within the confines of more formal tones. So while my papers are formal papers, they can often feel less formal, even if they follow formal guidelines. I think most profs don't care about some of the lesser-known things like the Oxford Comma (which I always use) though.

How did you first meet The Breeder?

In person? The weekend before Easter. I made a trip to see him and to see the penguins at the Detroit Zoo. And to just get the hell off campus after basically crashing from too much school work. Online? Well, we were talking for about two weeks before then. So yeah, our relationship is not that old, but still damn strong, kids.

Does verbal abuse heighten or diminish your sense of the erotic in a sexual encounter?

It depends, is it consentual verbal abuse? Because there is a difference between a little hot verbal play and someone actively seeking to degrade me with horrible language. So, usually, yeah, I go for it. But I have known guys who go over the line and hit some iffy territory for me.

What works as hot verbal play for you?

I frequently will defer to the other guy for what to say. I normally won't call someone "fag," but I will if they want. I like someone who tells me how I make them feel, someone who is dirty and physical, and someone who isn't afraid to just growl. Of course, "I love you," turns me on like crazy. Any man or woman who has loved me knows that.

That's all the questions for this week. Thanks for asking them.

Friday, December 2, 2011


Before I start today's blog post, I would like to comment about yesterday's World AIDS Day. I would have posted something yesterday, but I was very busy all day, so I decided to say my two cents here. I have been and always will be a huge supporter of research in the prevention and treatment of HIV and AIDS as well as other related STDs. I believe that everyone who has sex has a stake in treatment and protection from STDs, and everyone in the world has the same rights to be tested and treated. In America, we are lucky that there are many options for HIV/AIDS patients, but other countries are not as fortunate. There are many countries that seem locked in views that most American's have forgotten in the past few decades. It seems hard to believe that only a short while ago (though still before I was born) the American government was actively ignoring the spreading AIDS epidemic, and thousands of people were dying without knowing what was wrong or receiving care because no one knew what to do. I encourage all my sexually active readers to get regular tests for HIV and other STDs, and to support foundations that are seeking better treatments and hopefully, someday, a cure.

Now back to your regularly scheduled smut.

It was the dead of winter, I was cold, I was tired, and under no circumstances did I even want to be at the party. My first few college party experiences had been mediocre at best, causing me to decide to avoid parties altogether for a while, and this party was not shaping up to be different in any way. The parties were not made bad by any over-drinking on my part, or any awkward party moments. In fact, those first parties I went to generally had beer that tasted like total shit, to the point where I would hold a half empty cup in my hand all night simply to avoid people asking why I wasn't drinking or offering to get me a drink. I'm not a big beer drinker when it is good, so trying to get me drunk on what essentially amounted to swill was like trying to teach a fish to walk on land.

I only knew a few people that were at the party, and I no longer knew where they were. I had been invited to come, but peer pressure had been what made me go. I was perfectly content with spending a cold mid-west weekend cloistered in my dorm, doing nothing but watching TV, going online, jerking off to porn, and venturing out twice a day for a meal at the cafeteria. More social minded personalities deemed that to be a horrible plan and dragged me out with them, down the main road to one of the large buildings housing the off-campus fraternities. My college didn't have any of the dark off-campus fraternities you hear about in the news, the ones that are only off campus so that they can have harsher hazing rituals and lots of crazy parties. These guys were simply off campus because the fraternity technically owned the building and they could let things break and get messy without having to pay for damages.

The building amused me a bit to walk through because there had clearly been a lot of renovation done since the place had first been made. It had clearly once housed multiple apartments, but the inner walls had all been opened up with doors, meaning there were tons of cramped spaces and stairs leading up or down almost everywhere you turned. None of the rooms seemed to be exactly level with each other, and moving from room to room required at least one step up or down, if not more. Hallways would dead end or open up into huge rooms without any rhyme or reason.

Eventually, after walking around for a while, unimpressed by the filthy walls and rugs and drunk people barely dancing to the music, I found a staircase down to a room that seemed cut off from the rest of the party. Even the loud music seemed to be muted. There was a small futon, a smaller table, and a large TV with football playing on it. The only other person in the room was a guy sitting on the futon in just a pair of boxers and a tank top, staring at the screen, with a large textbook open in his lap.

He looked up when I entered the room and asked, "Party too much for you?"

"I'm not really feeling like partying tonight, actually," I replied.

"Yeah. Same here. I have a test on Monday and I don't feel like getting drunk and ruining my chances."

He moved a blanket aside so that I could sit down on the futon with him and we started talking. I learned that he was this frat house's token smart kid. Most fraternity members who were serious about school would join a fraternity but not live in the frat house, instead choosing quieter locations so that they could study. But this guy was able to live in the frat house for free, and all he had to do was be available to tutor his brothers if they needed it. As such, he got the small, quiet room in the back, and was essentially left alone during the parties, if he wanted to be. While he spoke, I alternated between brief eye contact and staring at the football game I didn't care about. I couldn't help but notice that with his legs spread I could see a bit into the hole in his boxers, and my thoughts drifted to what might be in there for me to see.

I was not being as subtle at my peeking as I thought I was, but neither was he, and as our conversation drifted off, we both became highly aware of the increased sexual tension in the room. I was sitting very close to this nearly naked man on his lumpy futon, and with just a little shift, my leg would press against his. I made the shift. He did nothing for a moment, but then he surprised me by making the first move. He leaned in for a kiss and pushed me back slightly on the futon. His tongue and mine swiped at each other as I sucked on his lips, pulling them into mine.

Our hands went everywhere. His moved in my hair (still short back then) and then ran down my chest. Mine crawled up his back, lifting his tank top and running down his boxers, grabbing his ass. We moved down more, him on top of me, grinding his crotch into mine. Our mouths hardly left each other except to kiss other areas. I could feel his cock swelling against my own, and I reached down to start opening my pants. His hand was down and helping me fish out my cock, getting closer and closer to touching it.

Then, through the thin wall of the room, we heard what was clearly some girl throwing up into a toilet. She went on for a long time, retching even after she had expelled everything in her stomach.

He lifted off of me and turned the volume up on the football game to try and drown her out. But it doesn't change the fact that the mood has been broken. All the sexual tension we had built up evaporated with the puking sound. We sat in silence for a few awkward moments before I stood up and told him I was probably going to go back to my dorm and see if I could get some sleep. He replied that he should probably get back to studying and we parted without another word. I found my friends and told them I was leaving, in spite of their protests that I needed to have a good time.

As I walked out into the cold night alone, my cock finally shrank all the way back to flaccid, leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum that cooled in the chilled air, reminding me of what almost had happened.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

What I Need

I know I had warned you all in Sunday's post that my writing was going to be a bit sparse in the coming days because of different stresses that are newly piling on my life, but it wasn't much of a warning (as I was rushing, thanks to some of the stress) and I figured I owed you all a better explanation of what is going on with me.

I guess what I want to talk about first is my lack of any sort of a sex life to talk about recently. I have seen an increase in people asking me how things are going with that in my emails, and I wanted to address that issue in the blog because I'm sure more of you are wondering. I have not had sex since my post with the Professor at the beginning of the month. Once again, this is not because I have stopped being my usual horny self. If anything, I am way more horny because of my lack of sex. There just seems to be a constant barrage of things getting in my way, and I don't have the time I used to have to cruise for sex online.

In reality, I also don't have much of a social life these days. To the point where in a recent bout of depression I wondered if I had done something to run my friends away or upset them. There are certain people I talk to pretty regularly and when I don't hear anything from them it can really tweek me out and I start to worry. I know I sent more than one of them a message along the lines of, "Are you ok? I'm worried because I haven't heard from you in a while." I hate to admit it, but when I don't hear from people I really care about, I immediately assume I did something wrong and it grates on my nerves. I assume it is part of my constant struggle with that annoying depression voice in the back of my head. But something about it makes me believe it.

I think part of the problem is that, before I moved, I had a fairly active social life at school, and a group of people I was close to that I saw almost every day. Now I hardly hear from those people, and a few of them I haven't heard anything from in a while. And those I have heard from have mostly been through emails and other things like that. What I really miss is being able to talk to people face-to-face, or even just voice-to-voice. I've always been one for long phone conversations and I miss having them with certain people.

I can't help but think that with my old solid social network, I would be able to get past all the other stresses in my life a bit better. But these days I feel so disconnected it amazes me to remember that I live a rather short distance from people I know in the city. I talk about not liking my apartment, yet I have somehow (without even knowing it) allowed it to cut me off from the outside world. Some days I feel like I'm on an island off the coast instead of attached to the continent. It is a very strange and displaced feeling.

What makes it worse is that I already have all these strings pulling at my heart anyway. As I have said before on this blog, when I love someone deeply and unconditionally, that love doesn't just go away. It is forever. Yet, with my move and other circumstances, I feel myself very far away from those I love, and it affects me a lot more than I ever thought it would. Recently people who I don't usually think about except as fond memories have been weighing on my mind and I can't really explain why. But the pressure pushes the more recent and closer bonds down on me too.

I'm not sure if I'm making sense in what I'm saying anymore, and I don't want to come off like a crazy person. I'm actually functioning very well (thank you). But it is very difficult to explain how going from being a very social and in-the-moment person to the hermit-like man I have become can cause strife. I guess the best way to explain it is to imagine you are holding a bundle of balloons and each balloon is one of your friends and the strings are your communication. If the strings are cut, the balloons fly away, and you don't get them back. Obviously friendships don't work that way, but in my darker moments I have the irrational notion that they do. Add to that the equally irrational notion that all the strings have been cut at once, and you're left with Ace jumping around trying to grab at balloons that are flying everywhere. It isn't a pretty picture.

I'm sorry to vent into the blog like this. Once again, I never intended for this blog to be anything but a telling of my sexual adventures. But I suppose to talk about the ways and hows of sex, you have to talk about the ways and hows of the times when sex is one of the last things on your mind. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, right now, I would love to be fucking, but I don't need it. What I need is to make some friends.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Formspring and All the Family Stuff

Pretty much going to dive right in to the questions this week. I have family coming to visit today and a lot on my plate with school work. Add to those two stresses the fact that I've been perpetually tired recently, and you have yourself a mixed bag of explosive Ace. I'm not going to bore you today with my woes, but I might at a later date. And I might be missing some posts in the next couple of weeks as the semester and month come to a close. Thanks for understanding.

Now on to the questions, which, like always, can be asked of me at my Formspring account or by emailing me.

Do you prefer a male or female doctor?

I really don't care, though I can see why some people might. Last time I got a check up by a female doctor she asked if she could perform a genital exam (my male doctors always have just gone for it) and I replied, "Sure. Not like you're going to see anything you can't find online."  

What's the fetish scene do for you?

Um, I guess the simple answer would be, "A lot." The things I have a fetish for, I'm really into. Like, my leather fetish: all it really takes is the touch and smell of leather and I'm thinking dirty thoughts and on my way to a hard-on. I have two leather jackets for just wearing around in the street because I like having something that I find sexual close by to me. It is like a sexual security blanket. And when someone else is wearing leather...well, let's just say that they're getting a lot of attention from me.

What are your favorite pizza toppings?

Pepperoni and bacon. I used to have extra cheese but lactose intollerance has made extra cheese a thing of the past for me. Sad face.

Have you ever dyed your hair?

I have died my hair blue multiple times (the last time it didn't come out for four months though, so I haven't dyed my hair since). And once I died it a crimson red with sections of it black and it looked like fire, which I loved.

Why isn't your beard as long as your cranial hair?

Hmmm...While I have let it grow out very long before (longest was three and a half months in the winter of my Sophomore year) I don't like it to be much longer than a week's growth. I'm not good at taking care of a beard and I certainly would not look good with multiple years worth of beard. I'm content with my Grizzly Adams look as it is.

How do you like to use cockrings?

I only have one, and it is the leather snap-on variety. I do want to get a metal one soon, though. And I like to have it fairly tight so that my balls get pushed forward when I'm fucking a guy. It also helps my cock get that extra bit of pressure to get even harder. When I'm at my hardest, I can reach 7.5 inches, and I get REALLY thick.

I am in a curious mood today. As usual actually :) Do you ever ask others a question (on Formspring)? If yes, what was your most intrusive question (one you considered the most intrusive)? If no, why?

I have asked others questions, but they aren't usually that intrusive. Generally if I have an intrusive question (which is rare) I will ask in private. I figure there is a higher chance of getting a response if it is not public. However, I find that I don't tend to ask those kinds of questions, not because I'm not curious, but because it rarely occures to me to ask.

Have you tried waxing?

Sure. As a swimmer I tried a ton of different ways to get rid of hair, but shaving really is the best way unless you're willing to pay out the ass for professional waxing. Yes, that means I waxed myself. Not that hard and seriously, if you do it right, it doesn't hurt that bad. I've gotten my eyebrows shaped for important events (where pictures get taken) as well and there is some waxing and plucking in that. Easy.

What do you think of Classical or Art music: Interesting, dull, intolerable? If not just bored by it, is do any particular periods or instruments make an impression? (I know: This question is probably on the weird side.)

It really depends on the mood I'm in. I say that because I really like most forms of music from classical to metal to rap to dance. I used to play trombone, barritone, and tuba, so anything with a strong low brass section really makes me happy. I would say that as far as styles go, I really like chamber music, but some of the larger symphonies are great too. I also like operas and ballets and have many recordings of both.

That's all for this time. Keep the questions coming, I love to answer them.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving!

I want to wish all my readers a very happy Thanksgiving today. If you don't live in America or just don't celebrate Thanksgiving, then happy Thursday!

This year I am incredibly thankful for you all, my readers. In the six months (half a year!) that I have been keeping this blog, you guys have kept me going through some tough transitions, moves, and general bad moods. You have all helped me carve out a small niche in the internet where I am able to share my experiences and thoughts with people I have grown to know, and readers who are so very nice and caring for me. Truly, you all have made the blogging experience so much easier and enjoyable for me. I know other bloggers have regular rude commentors, but other than a few rare bad seeds, all of my readers have been amazing to me. Thanks to you all, as of the writing of this post, I have 112 published blog entries, 942 comments, 70, 285 views (WOW!), and people reading from all parts of the world: America, Europe, Australia, and the Middle East have all made a huge dent in my statistics.

So today I want to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart all the way to the top. I have included in this post some extra-special Thanksgiving Ace Candy, which I hope you will all enjoy.

You can tell this was in the mirror.

I tried to make my cock the exclamation point.

And then I covered it in my cum. Who wants to lick?

Thank you all so much.


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Bottom of the Pile

As Turkey Day swiftly approaches and I am faced with the realization of my own lack of concrete plans (aside from knowing I have to be at a restaurant at 11am on Thursday) and a suddenly large work load. I am not sure where I'm going to be at any given time this week, I'm not sure if there will be internet there, and I am not sure how much free time I'm going to have for writing. All this is to say that this might be the last post until next week. Or I might be posting at the same intervals I seem to have adopted lately (Mon, Wed, Fri, Sun). Hard to say. If I don't post again, I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving and I can't wait to hear about all the family drama when I get back.

It was my friend's birthday and I was recovering from mono. We were all staying the night in the beach house her parents rent out every year, the same thing we had done the year before. The idea was to give us a safe place to drink away from her parents and with plenty of bed and couches for us all to have a place to sleep. The previous year the party had been full of drunken antics by all of us, staying up until four in the morning drinking and playing games, and then half of us woke up again at seven to discover that those of us who had eaten potato skins had food poisoning. I can tell you from first-hand experience that being drunk, sick, tired, and a little hungover at the same time is not a good combo.

This year I did not want to make the same mistake. I knew I was sick going in. I had a cup in my hands, but I never finished the drink and I never filled it up more. I simply would hold on to it and act like I was drinking from it regularly. As my friends got progressively more drunk, they just assumed I was keeping up with them. In reality, I was way behind and enjoying the show to a great extent.

Something that seems to always happen when this particular group of friends gets drunk: we get naked and pile on top of each other. The previous year, after those of us dealing with food poisoning finished (to put it politely) expelling the bad food, those of the poisoned who were still drunk ended up passed out in a pile on one of the couches. I don't remember who I was on or who had their head in my crotch, but there are pictures if I ever want to know.

This year I didn't expect to be a part of the rough and tumble antics. Partly because I assumed that my friends, like me, had already gotten over their love of heavy party drinking and were more social drinkers; and partly because as the night wore on, those of us not drinking started to separate from those who were. I was wrong, of course, and soon found myself the center of attention of the three other guys there.

At this point in the night, all three were shirtless, making me the only dude there with a shirt on. They were ragging me about it and finally, in an effort to get them to leave me alone while I washed the dishes and put the leftover food in the fridge, I took my shirt off.

"Woah! You have nipple rings?" They all crowded around for a look, amazed at the metal rings in my chest. I was a little surprised by their reactions, considering two out of the three had already seen them before.

"Can we touch them?"

"Um, sure?"

That was a mistake. They started groping and flipping my rings and all that did was send shock-waves of pleasure straight to my hardening cock. I quickly pulled myself away from their hands before my bulge got out of control, and they pouted and sulked like children losing a toy. Finally I told them to leave me alone so I could wash the dishes without breaking any. It wasn't a concern, but it was a believable excuse.

I continued with the dishes for maybe ten more minutes, cleaning up all the cake and ice cream and other strange alcoholic mixtures, when I was surprised by arms grabbing me from all sides. I was soon pulled to the ground and covered by three men. It took me a few moments to realize that all three were naked, and a few moments more to note that all three of them were working to get my pants off. Meanwhile all the girls of the party were sitting on the couch across the room, watching, and proving my theory that all ladies like to see some male-on-male action. I admit that I did not put up much of a fight, and soon I was naked and at the bottom of a four man pig pile.

I would love to tell you that we ended up in some kind of amazing orgy, but all the energy of wrestling and stripping me after being up all night had tuckered the guys out. After a while of all of us just laying there, I got them to roll off me and we were just four guys plopped out on the floor. I was the first to start putting my clothes back on, and the others followed, though none of them got fully dressed again.

Shortly after that one of the guys who was really wrecked threw up and we all got together for the clean up, considering the party to be pretty much over. Once he was safely washed off and in bed, a few of us walked to the beach where one of the guys and I strolled over to group of rocks. It was a cold night and the water was even colder, but we were still out there in very little clothes, just enjoying looking at the sky and talking. We started talking about sex and our first times, and he told me that for a while he used to make out with guys just to get girls to make out with him in what I assumed was some strange variation of the Truth of Dare game. I put my hand on either side of him on the rock and leaned in, letting my lips press against his under the cold starry sky.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Role Models

As much as I like to think that I don't copy my personality or affectations off of anyone, there are a few cases where I cannot say that for sure. Those who know me know I am somewhat of a constantly evolving, wacky personality. I can shift from dark and dirty to bright and innocent mind sets with ease, and if I have a "catch phrase" of any kind, I usually lose it in a few weeks and maybe even shift to a different one. I enjoy my popular culture, and movie or television references come out of my mouth at a mile a minute, especially when I am in the presence of a fellow pop culture buff. In a way I am an amalgamation of what I see and read and there would be rare instances where someone could point out an action of being indicative of me, simply because I change so much. Maybe it is because I am still young, and maybe I will settle down when I am older, but who can say?

There are some things I have picked up along my short life that seem to stick. Like the way I put my hands on my hips when I'm just doing nothing (as opposed to when I'm mad, which is when a lot of people put their hands on their hips). That I know I got from my mother. For years I bit my nails, another habit of my mother's, though I have been nail-biting free for over two years now. Then there are things I made a part of my life because of people I admired. I would take what I liked of other people and try on different guises, which eventually helped me become the self-styled man I am today. There were those late-90s goths who bordered on Cyberpunk that inspired me to dress in black with spikes and chains most days in the eighth grade. That look has stuck around, though I wear it less often. I've looked up to professional athletes, specifically swimmers, baseball players, and dancers, which has prompted me to continue my interest in those sports to this day (I like hockey now too, but that is newer). Kurt Cobain and other grunge artists are what inspired me to grow out my hair when I was younger, though I only recently was allowed to. It is interesting what small things have stuck and where they come from.

Then there was Kevin. Kevin was a guy who I met the summer between my Sophomore and Junior years of High School. He was a swimmer, and he came to practice over the summer on my club team as a way of staying in shape for swimming at college. Summers were frequently a time for college swimmers to come back, though most of them only talked and interacted with each other, ignoring the rest of us. Kevin was different, and he and I swam a lot of the same events, so we eventually developed a form of camaraderie. I would not call it "friendship" because every time I looked at him it was like looking up at an idol. I know I have mentioned being affected by older and better swimmers this way before, but with Kevin it was more than just the swimming. I saw Kevin as a perfect picture of the man I eventually wanted to grow up to be. He had a square jaw, masculine lines, he was muscular, but not thin, clearly very strong. Like all swimmers his shoulders were huge, and he had a way of rolling his swim cap up so it covered less of his head, but still looked very cool.

But what I liked best about him was his smile. The crooked way one side of his mouth would turn up when he smiled because he was truly happy. When his eyes were bright above that smile, I would melt in an instant.

I remember loving the moments that I had together with him. Frequently we were the only two men who would show up for the early morning swim practices that summer, and I would have plenty of time to chat with him. We talked about everything: college, swimming, family, friends, probably hitting on every subject imaginable. I was fiercely jealous whenever he would give his attention to other people on the team, though there was one female swimmer I enjoyed us hanging out with and I have no idea why I wasn't jealous of her. One other college swimmer, Eric, was there that summer. He was physically more attractive than Kevin, but a real prick. When the two of them were together, all I could do was imagine them fucking and then rage at my imagined injustice. I wasn't in love with Kevin, but I grew to live for the moments when we were close. Moments in the shower together when he made me feel like his equal, when he made me warm, when he touched me...

The physical ways Kevin touched me were fleeting moments, but the ways he touched and has touched my life can still be seen to this day. If I had to point out one way Kevin's impression has still stuck to me, I would point out my smile. I now smile in the same half-smile that Kevin would. I don't even remember if copying it was a conscious choice of mine, and I had actually forgotten all about the smile until recently someone described my smile to me. When they told me what my smile was like, my mind clicked and I realized it was Kevin's smile on my face. He has affected me in other, less visible, ways too. I think my generally easy-going demeanor is partial a fabrication based on his own beach-boy-like comfort in any situation. My ability to enter any room, regardless of how well I know the others there or what will happen, with a smile on my face and an easy step seems to come directly from him.

When I think about how he is still clearly a part of me, even though after that summer I never saw him again, I have to smile and feel good. There have been plenty people in my life who were just terrible to me, and who I would never want to see as a part of myself. That Kevin, this wonderful and kind man, has clearly been a huge influence on me makes me lucky. I'm happy to be molded partially from him.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Formspring and a Few Important Shout Outs

Before I get started answering your questions this week, I have to do a few quick shout outs to some men in my Blogger family (who may or may not be reading this). The first one goes to FelchingPisser, the benefactor responsible for the books I'm modeling in yesterday's Ace Candy post. My dear friend recently had a close death and, while I have already expressed my sympathies to him, I thought some of my readers might want to do the same. He is being very strong, but our support will definitely help him.

The second shout out goes to Rob the Breeder. Last night he posted on his Twitter account that it had been exactly a year since he had first met Spencer, the man who gave him so much joy last winter and spring while he packed up and sold his old house. Regardless of what you think of Rob's sex life (seriously, his more vocal detractors are a little scary), no one can deny the beauty of the relationship he and Spencer had. That kind of love is rare and should be celebrated by all those exposed to it. Yes, I realize I'm exposing my romantic side right now, but that is how I feel. We should all aspire to love someone so much.

Both men are really spectacular in their own way, and both are well worth knowing and supporting. Thanks for bearing with me while I show my appreciation to them.

As always, I welcome any and all questions to either my Formspring account, my e-mail, or the comments in my blog. I love answering these questions as it allows me to connect to my readers on a different level than just my regular blog posts. Enjoy.

For the 3 years that I've been having sex with men, I've always been a bottom boy. Lately I've really wanted to try and top, but it's too embarrassing to even try when I already know that in a matter of minutes I'll be soft. I need help.

Do you get soft at the idea of topping a guy? Is that your problem? Because I'll be honest with you: if you can't get hard at the idea of topping another guy, you're probably not a top. To be a good top you really need to enjoy topping, not be topping out of convenience. I know plenty of bottoms try to switch to top to increase the number of guys they can have sex with, but are still really bottoms at heart. That is probably the number one reason why I ever get a top to flip for me: he really wants to bottom but just finds it easier to fuck as a top.

If the softness issue is something that just happens when you have sex, however, you may need to talk to your doctor. Erectile dysfunction is nothing to be ashamed of, and it can be treated. If it is physiological, then some pills can help the problem. If it is mental, then a therapist might be able to help you overcome whatever is blocking your erection.

I think what you really need to do, though, is think about what your fantasies are when you jack off. What gets you the most hard when you picture it in your mind's eye? If you always imagine a large cock sliding in and out of your ass, then you might want to just stick with that. Sex is about discovery and learning and doing what it is you most want to do. So explore what it is you like and see if that helps you any.

Gay Math; “If the park ranger inspects the restrooms every 4 hours and it takes Glenn 12 minutes to get a stranger off, how many strangers can Glenn service between inspections?”

20. 20*12=240 240/60=4

rate me on looks 1-10. and if you have the balls press the ask followers button[;

Well, my amp goes up to eleven (one sexier) and a good solid piece of wood in my hand is always useful (I like Spinal Tap), I'm going to have to say you're rating in the high 12 range.

And this is probably the last time I'm going to answer one of these questions.

When you were younger, did you ever hookup with any of your friends' dads? Did you ever notice any of the dads checking you out?

I've has sex with the dads of a few of my friends. In fact, there is one family where I had sex with my friend, had sex with his father, and had sex with his brother. I got all the men in that family. I got checked out by even more than I ever fucked. It helped that I was on the swim team and the men got to see me in a tight speedo all the time. Swim team dads, whether from my team or another team, were probably the third largest group I got sex from. The first being the men at Paul's house and the second being the men I met cruising bathrooms and parks.

How big is the equipment that you are packing in your pant? Okay how big is your damn cock?

I have a curve to my cock that has always made it harder to measure, but I'm over seven inches but not all the way to 7.5 unless I'm REALLY hard. I think the best feature is my curve, however, as it hits all the right spots in an ass or in a vagina.

Have you ever sexed someone on a trampoline while it was raining?

It was not raining, no.

Are you a fan of the James Bond films?

I love the James Bond films! Though, some definitely less than others. Goldfinger is a big one for me, and I would argue that Casino Royal is probably the best one in the series so far. To be fair, some of the older ones would have been much better with Casino Royal's budget and technology, but as-is it is the best.

If you heard that a child was being abused by a neighbour, how would you handle it?

Call the cops and report what I know. Child abuse is not something to joke about. That kind of situation needs to be handled quickly and well.

If you had to estimate, how many people with whom have you had sexual relations? (Don't go all Bill Clinton and don't try to weasel out of the question. Give a number and be honest.)

Easily over 100. Maybe over 500. Big maybe. I'm definitely not close to 1000 yet. Yet being the key word here.

How long since you cruised a park?

The last time I cruised and got something was close to a year ago, last fall. I tried a few times this summer but I was either at the wrong parks or they were just dead for cruising now. I think with police cracking down in the more populated areas it can be more dangerous. It was much easier out in rural Ohio, if that makes any sense.

That's all for this week. Keep the questions coming!