Part 2: Best Made Plans and Bucket Lists

My relationship with sex is a lot like my relationship with food.  Deprived of it for any amount of time and my eyes automatically become too big for my stomach.  In other words, when I am not sexually active, my mind tends to work overtime, creating fantastical situations that frequently write checks my reality cannot cash.  This would explain my desire to have a gang bang where multiple anonymous tops use my ass as a cum dump and other such nonsense.  This type of gluttony?  Good in theory, difficult in reality.

The previous Tuesday I had some great sex in Eau Claire.  I had to concern myself with other things on Wednesday and Thursday.  Friday was to be the ‘big day’.  Mr. Rock Star showed up at my hotel as planned.  The sex was great.  He really wanted to be part of the gang bang, but had a previous commitment.  This was true of three other really hot guys who had signed on early in the planning of my little event; however, meeting them at another time was not in the cards. 

It was now 6:00 pm.  Mr. Rock Star had just left; two loads lighter.  I sit down in front of my laptop and contemplate: what is it I want?  The gang bang is to begin in two hours.  I have eight guys that have committed, plus three new dudes who want in, and one really nicely dicked dude who wants to watch and then fuck me with a condom.  Also, in the que for the BBRTs ad, are six dudes that I, for one reason or another, am reluctant to include (no pic, sketchy emails, suspicious profiles, bottoms).  On top of that, I have two dudes who have expressed interest in dropping by my hotel after 10:00 pm to use my ass.  One wants me to wear a blindfold. 

Looking at my options, I begin to question if this is a case where less is more and whether a little quality control isn’t also in order.   I’m not going to lie – the whole STD thing keeps nagging at me.  I expressed my sudden reticent bent, not only to Mr. Rock Star, but also to one of the upcoming participants who has been consistently enthusiastic about the event and the prospect of breeding my hole.  We begin texting back and forth.  He now wants to come over early.  I tell him I am working on stuff and that the 8:00 pm time still stands.  Then I begin reviewing my scheduled attendees and activities. 

First off, I contact the two dudes who want to show up after 10:00 pm and tell them I will not be available.  The thought of being wiped out from the gang bang and then having another couple of dudes come in, subjecting my ass to more abuse and sex is something I decide I do not want.  Sex out of obligation or sex that is merely tolerated because of having made an obligation?  That never feels right to me, and rather than risk it, I decide to bail early – early enough that they can make other plans.   They are disappointed.  I can live with that.  One is super hot.  The other?  It’s hard to tell; the stats are okay, but suddenly I am starting to really pay attention to height/weight proportion and waist size – the second dude definitely fails that measure.

So, too, do two other dudes who are invited to the gang bang via BBRTs.  I noticed that they have failed to read the email I sent out with the room number, so, I simply ‘unsend’ the emails and cancel their invitations.  I also contact the dude with the big dick who wants to watch and fuck me with a condom and tell him that I am getting cold feet and that the event will most likely be canceled.  He understands.  That brings me down to nine dudes: four from the craigslist ads, one from A4A, and four from BBRTS.  I still have my doubts about one dude’s stats from the craigslist ads, but decide to let it roll.  The other three have great stats and nice dicks.  The dude from A4A seems really enthusiastic about the event.  He also has a 31” waist and his stats are good.  He is Hispanic, I think… not sure, but English is definitely not his primary language; that I can tell from his emails.  The four dudes from BBRTS include the super nice dude who is encouraging me to go through with the event and three others that I think are pretty damn hot. 

How are things looking?  Age range: 24-48.  8 Caucasian, 1 Other.  Waist Size: 31-33”.  Dick Size: 7-9”.  The pig in me can’t help but wonder where all the black dudes are.  The ones I have spoken with on A4A all seem a touch on the prudish side, so I never push the whole ‘group’ thing with them.  I totally understand why dudes prefer one-on-one; normally, I am one of those guys.  But not this night.  This is on my sexual bucket list and, ultimately, that weighs into my decision to go through with the event: I want to cross it off, once and for all.  So, I figure, it’s now or never.

I am pretty sure that fifty percent of the dudes will flake.  That will mean a party of four or five dudes.  That, I decide, I can handle and will prove exciting enough.  As the time approaches, I check my ass (I douched and cleaned out again – not wanting to carry Mr. Rock Star’s butt babies longer than necessary), shower, check my supplies, hydrate, and turn back on my I-Pod.  At 7:58 pm, I assume my position on the bed, poppers in hand, and wait.

I didn’t wait long.

At 8:02, the door creaks open.  I hold off on the poppers and keep facing the headboard of the bed.  I love this moment; when a top enters the room and I have no idea what he looks like.  Will he be the love of my life?  A great fuck?  A serial killer?  Only time will tell.

I feel the cheeks of my ass pull apart and as a mouth plants itself firmly on my hole.  Dude knows how to eat ass.  I sneak a peek.  It’s the dude from A4A.  Short, squat, Asian, dressed to kill.  And my immediate thought is: 31” waist, my ass!  He’s not run-from-the-room bad, but he is not what he sold me on the internet.  If this was Ebay, I would be leaving him some really negative feedback regarding misrepresentation of product.  Still.  He showed up.  And he’s doing a good job eating my ass.

Soon he strips, and as he is doing this, I reposition myself so I can suck his dick.  His dick is… about six inches, on the thin side, and uncut.  What the hell, I figure.  He’s here.  Where is everybody else?   

As we play, I try to find things to like about the Asian dude.  His skin is soft.  His body, though thick and squat, is super solid.  He has a nice ass.  The sucking leads to kissing and he’s good at it.  Pulling my ass to the edge of the bed, he tells me to get on my back.   Without the courtesy of lubing up, he plunges in.  His dick is on the thin side, like I said, so, while I feel it, he’s not at risk of doing me any damage.  He’s an enthusiastic little fucker.  It’s not bad.  He pounds away for about ten minutes or so, kissing me on occasion. 

Then, there’s a knock on the door; which is weird.  I made a point of telling everyone the door would be open and to simply walk in.  The Asian dude stops fucking me and goes to open the door.  He comes back and picks up right where he left off.  Pound, pound, pound.  Based on the way he was dressed when he arrived, I am thinking he has someplace else to be.  Our new arrival approaches the bed.  Tall, thin, scruffy, young, with a sweet, sweet smile and a light in his eyes that would make one think he’s part leprechaun. There is something about his smile that rings a bell, but I can’t place it, and, as I currently have a dick up my ass, I put it out of my head.  Based on how the new dude is dressed – sweat pants, baggy pullover shirt, trucker cap, sneakers – I am guessing he’s something of a slacker, or, at least, of that generation.  He’s eyeing the Asian dude and giving me pointed smiles, as if to tell me that he is not digging the Asian dude.  I just say ‘hi’, nothing else I can do about any of it now. 

The Slacker dude strips and moves to the left side of the bed.  He has a really nice nine inch dick.  Thick.  And it curves…. Downward!  He slips it in my mouth and starts talking shit, asking me how much I like sucking his big, fat dick.  This never fails to make me laugh inside – when tops stuff your mouth full of dick and then ask you questions?  What is that about?   I have come to realize that their questions are, in fact, rhetorical and I needn’t answer, but I was raised a certain way, and when someone asks me a question, I always feel the need to supply an answer. 

Taking a read on the energy in the room, I can tell one thing: the Slacker and The Asian dude?  They don’t much care for each other.  Do they know each other?  What is it? 

In my current position, I am not able to fully deepthroat the Slacker’s cock.   This is rectified once the Asian dude takes a fuck break.  Initially, I roll up on all fours and face the Slacker dude straight on, but his dick curves down, so this is not a great angle, and I worry about hurting him – his dick is rock hard.  No worries, I know just what to do.  I roll on my back, with my head hanging off the side of the bed.  Bingo!  He’s tall, and he needs to bend at the knees a bit to accommodate, but soon, all nine inches of that fine, fat fucker is sliding in and out of my throat with relative ease.  And no gagging!

Slacker dude continues to talk shit to me, and this is something that must be a regular feature of any fuck he participates in.  I like verbal tops.  I like dom tops.  But, while verbal, Mr. Slacker is not all that dom.  He’s a kid.  It’s that leprechaun twinkle in his eyes.  He’s a sweet kid, reciting dialogue he’s picked up from watching porn.  The give away?  That slight adolescent squeak to his voice and the fact he can’t keep a straight face when telling me that I’m ‘nothing more than a cup dumpster, made for sucking dick and taking loads’.  Like any good actor, I don’t tip wise.  I know better: one works with what one is given.  And really?  His shtick is kind of endearing.

The Asian dude has now crawled up on the bed and is really into watching.  The Slacker dude is paying him no attention and moves me around before crawling up on top of me.  I think he’s coming in for a kiss, but no.  I move in for a kiss and am rebuffed.  He moves his face away from mine just slightly and talks into my neck.  Am I ready to take his big cock up my ass?  Fuck yeah.  I tilt my pelvis up and wait for entry.  I look over at the Asian dude, thinking he is probably going to want to stick his dick in my mouth, but nope, he’s intent on watching Slacker dude enter my hole. 

So, again, the downward curve of his dick is a little problematic, requiring a lot of assist on my part.  But soon enough, dude is in and taking his time with my hole, allowing me to feel the full length and width of his mighty sword.  It feels awesome and I let him know.  Before long, he asks me if I’m ready to get pounded.  Fuck yeah!  Only… his idea of pounding?  Not all that violent.  More like a steady fuck.  That figures.  He’s a sweet man.  His fucking technique is pretty much like his approximation of the sex talk he’s learned from porn; more of an homage than the genuine article.  That’s cool with me.  With a dick like his, he can homage me all day if he likes. 

He’s fucking me for like ten minutes, talking shit, leaning in and not kissing.  Then he leans in and says something that surprises me: Am I ready to take his load!  Really?  It feels a little out of left field, but I’m in the moment and respond enthusiastically.  He does that freeze in place, shudder thing some tops do, demanding to know if I can ‘feel his seed’.  Honestly?  I rarely can, but always tell them yes, that I can feel them white washing my hole. 

He stays on top of me for a bit, his face so close to mine that we could kiss, except we don’t.  He apologizes for cumming so soon, but explains that he held his load for me since Monday and was so excited to finally meet me.  Again, I think, sweet.   And, dude?  You came in my ass – nothing to apologize for.   We breathe the same air for a bit more, but my idle is short lived, for the Slacker’s recent deposit lights a fire in the Asian dude’s loins.  He yanks my ass to the end of the bed and resumes pounding my hole.  Something in his demeanor tells me that he is ready to join the ‘deposit a load’ club.  It gives me the opportunity to appreciate his efforts.  I also know that as soon as he leaves I am going to spill the beans about his 31” waist.  Dude shoots and scores.  He dresses and leaves quickly.  And it turns out I am not the only one that wants to talk about him once he leaves.

The Slacker dude is yet another trick that likes to talk.  A lot.  I learn he doesn’t know the Asian dude and that he didn’t feel very welcome.  I tell him that last part can’t be true, because, on-line, the Asian dude was super excited about the whole gang bang thing, as in sharing.  Turns out the Asian dude gave the Slacker dude a dirty look when he opened the door.  I do the math on that one and realize what that was about; he was annoyed.  The Asian dude was fucking my ass, had to stop, and go open the door, even though the door was unlocked.  I tell the Slacker that all he had to do was push on it.  This makes sense to the Slacker, and I share a bit more about the Asian dude’s profile (rife with inaccuracies), all the dudes who flaked, and the one’s I turned down.   He knows a few of the dude’s, including the dude with the big cock that wanted to fuck with a condom.  He tells me he throws a hell of a fuck, and then asks me if I’m ready to get fucked some more.

Cool.

It’s pretty much a repeat of load one: no kissing, face close to mine, talking dirty into my neck.  We change it up a bit (doggy on the bed, then me bent over the end of the bed), but all in all, it’s a meat and potatoes fuck.  Added bonus?  He makes a video of it with his camera. Me?  I gave up getting pics when the Asian dude walked in.  He ends up on top of me, my legs in the air, firing off another load.  And I think that’s the end of it.  He pulls out and tells me to get ready for it.  He’s jerking his cock and… shoots a third time (!), hitting me in the face and coating my whole torso in cum!  I am in awe, and tell him so.  Dude shoots massive loads.

We relax; me on the bed, him in the arm chair, and I learn a whole bunch about Madison.   I learn about local HIV funding. We talk about housing. I learn there’s a serious syphilis outbreak in Madison (isn’t that true everywhere?).  I learn about the bareback sex parties that one of the local bars hosts, the money of which is then donated to one of the local HIV non-profits (is that irony?)  I learn that the Slacker used to live in my current neighborhood at the same time I did (and I am thinking we probably fucked before). 

The one thing I don’t learn?  Why won’t he kiss me?  I don’t ask because I think I remember the answer.  It’s a standard for dudes who mimic porn without getting the full gist of what it is to be a porn star.  Most likely?  Kissing is reserved for boyfriends and partners, not tricks.   Yeah, okay, whatever.

Eventually the conversation winds down.  The Slacker is off to a bar downtown to meet friends.  It’s 10:00 pm.  So much for my gang bang.  A lopsided three-way does not a gang bang make and it remains on the bucket list.  I proffer to the Slacker that perhaps gang bangs are too crude for Madison.  Or maybe I’m just too fucking old.  He tells me that’s not true; that if I tried this in Chicago, they would be lined up around the block.  He leaves and I consider turning in.   But I haven’t eaten.  And I want a drink.

I drive over to Club Five – or whatever they are calling it now.  I am wearing my tightest jeans, a Harley Davidson cap with a skull on it, my kick ass boots, and a black Piggly Wiggley T-shirt.  It has the familiar logo on the front in white with the word ‘Piggly’ on it and on the back a pig’s butt, complete with corkscrew tail and the word “Wiggley”.  I look good.  And the giant, rather tragic drag queen that spies me as I enter the bar is all over me in a flash.  She’s drunk and soooo not my thing.  I am polite, but play shy and make my way to The Barracks; the back room where they used to play porn and dudes were kind of cruisy.  But no more.  They opened up the wall and porn is now played only a few nights a month.   The bartender is older, sweet, and nice.  He ends up being my one real conversation of the evening.  I order a gin and tonic.

I check Grndr.  It’s college night.  So there are 19 year olds running around.  Drunken college kids?  Not my thing.  A few make eyes at me, a few hit me up on Scruff and Grndr.  I am polite.  I am not interested.  I am… disappointed.   I’ve had a lot of fun at this bar in the past, but not tonight.   Three bowls of popcorn and one more gin and tonic later, I am out of there.  I hit a nearby Perkins and have some soup and salad. 

It’s now 2:00 am.  I am to be on the road and on my way to Duluth by 7 am, which means I have to be up by 6:00 am.  Lights out.  I sleep heavy.  Disappointed?  Sort of, but there was a lot to like, too. 

Maybe Duluth will be better…

End Part 2

Part 1: Best Made Plans and Bucket Lists

Sometimes, no matter how well you try to plan an event, life gets in the way and something you hoped to make happen devolves into whatever the universe deems adequate.  Accepting this premise would go a long way towards explaining the last few days of my vacation, following my stop in Eau Claire last Tuesday and the wonderful Janis Ian concert I attended last Wednesday.  Last Thursday was spent prepping for what I had hoped would put to rest, once and for all, an item on my personal sexual bucket list: a gang bang.  Yes, even at my age, I remain fascinated and titillated by the idea of a group of anonymous tops using my holes for their (and my) pleasure, even going so far as to book a hotel in Madison for this specific purpose.

I was doing everything I could think of to ensure success.  Two weeks before the event I had a Craigslist ad out there that I renewed on a regular basis right up until the day of the event (when it suddenly got flagged and removed).  I had a party ad on BBRTS and joined the site for as a full member for the month so I could have unlimited emails, access to all features, etc.  I’m also on A4A working the Madison area.  My pics were current and fairly flattering, my profile to the point and interesting.  Bottom line, I marketed myself as best I could, being explicit regarding what I did want (lots of men stopping by to drop a load or two, good hygiene, discretion), and what I did not want (NO PNP, no alcohol, no hassles, no endless emails).  I set a time, hinted at which hotel I would be hosting this event, and promised that the door would be unlocked (duct tape) for easy access. 

During the two weeks leading up to the event, I started collecting potential sperm donors.  I had enough to pick from that I could afford to be a little picky (no pic/no play, weed out the less appealing dudes) and things looked to be a go.  So excited by the prospect of this event, I would go to bed each night humping the mattress in anticipation.  How did it turn out?  Hey, we’ll get to that, trust me.

As the day approached, four of my most desirable suitors emailed me to let me know that they wouldn’t be able to make it (had to work, forgot they had dinner plans, would be out of town, etc.), but let me know that they would still love to hook-up with me beforehand if possible.  Two of these dudes can only be described as porn-ready hot – perfect gym bods, handsome, kinky as hell, and highly sexual.  So, of course, the universe prevents us from getting together (at one point they proposed a three-way, but I was there on business as well and couldn’t make it happen).  However, one of the dudes on my most wanted list proposed meeting at 4:00 pm, four hours before ‘the event’, promising to help warm me up for what was to cum.  I was impressed enough to consent and Mr. Rock Star and I made plans.

Mr. Rock Star is thin, tall, good-looking, bearded, worked-out, full of tattoos and piercings, and adventuresome as hell.  In fact, other than the tats and piercings and his handsome face, he could be me – as in, once we met, it was a little like making out with myself, something that I have always wanted to do (what narcissist doesn’t?).   He’s a dom, aggressive, versatile top and as we text back and forth during my stay in Madison, I learn a lot more about him – and there’s a lot to like.  He’s upbeat for one.  Lots of energy.  Lots of interests.  Nothing he suggests freaks me out until he brings up sounding, which is something he’d discovered recently.  I know a little about sounding , having done a bit of research about it.  Based on that information, sounding is on my personal ‘no fly’ list, which I mention to Mr. Rock Star, not that it prevented him from talking about it several more times. Turns out that is something Mr. Rock Star likes to do – talk.  Not that there is anything wrong with that.  Traditionally, I am more the silent type, which is why I have frequently found myself paired up with a talker.  This combo is great for social situations – they act as my conversational shield – but privately can be a little irritating (as I prefer silence). 

As Friday approaches, I am pretty psyched to meet this dude, and am also wondering if I’m making a mistake with the whole gang bang thing.  Checking into the hotel is no big deal.  I had requested a room far from the pool and social gathering areas, so end up on the top floor.  Walking into the room, I am initially shocked at how small it is: one bed, and little space, but after settling in, I realize it’s all I need.  I try to imagine a bunch of dudes crowded around the bed and I begin to doubt my vision.  But I don’t have a lot of time to dwell on it, there’s work to do.  Grabbing the duct tape, I secure both sides of the lock mechanism with several layers of tape.  I had already prepped my bod before arriving (shaving, trimming, oiling, cleaning) , but continue to douche my ass.  The last thing I want is the night to be derailed because I didn’t do my due diligence.   I set up my I-Pod, get my tunes on, get out my cock rings and poppers, set the digital camera out, secure all my stuff, and fire up my laptop to check for updates, etc.    

It’s then that I see my ad has been flagged and removed on Craigslist.  I consider placing another ad, but stop short.  The clock is ticking and I am wondering if what I have lined up is more than enough.  At the appointed time, I climb up on the bed, get on all fours, and present my hole.  I imagine myself doing the same thing four hours from now for a mysterious number of anonymous tops and, much to my surprise, the thrill is gone.  I’m getting cold feet. But I don’t have time to dwell on it, for Mr. Rock Star arrives.  

As he walks in, I think about taking a hit of poppers, but resist.  It’s going to be a long night, and I need to conserve my strength.  Now, my balls are stretched with five (five!) steel chrome cock rings – a new record for me.  Ball stretching is something that has intrigued me for a while now and before I left Minneapolis, I stopped into my favorite gay store and purchased two more rings.  They are held in place with a tighter black rubber one.  In the mirror at the foot of the bed, my ass with the stretched balls swinging between my legs looks amazing – like it all belongs to someone other than me.  Mr. Rock Star is suitably impressed.  He’s yanking on those immediately.  Taking me by the balls, he guides me off the bed.  This makes me hard as a fucking rock.  My dick looks good and I force him to suck me.  Returning to his feet, we kiss.  His grasp and yank is fairly aggressive and I reach a point when the sensation goes from pleasure to pain.  He backs off. 

The kissing is passionate, intense.  We get so carried away; he doesn’t even have time to remove his clothing.  He’s dressed to the nines (on his way to some party in honor of his partner), so there is his dress shirt and tie and all that to be removed.  I start helping, but there is always something awkward and a bit comical about sexual partners wrestling out of their clothing.  Soon, however, he’s sitting spread eagle in the arm chair and my mouth is swallowing his dick to the root.  It’s a nice dick: 7”, and nice looking - just like the rest of him.  He’s a striking man.  Think:  Michael Stipe with a punk edge and a worked out bod.  The cocksucking is good, but he wants more right away.   Fully naked, he stands and moves behind me.  Wrapping his necktie around my throat and using it as reins, he gets down on his knees, and, as he enters my ass, he tightens the tie just a bit.  Okay, so I don’t know this dude at all and, while I am a little freaked out from a safety point, the rush this causes is amazing.   I can totally see why people get into auto-erotic asphyxiation.  And I’m sure the danger involved has something to do with the allure of this activity as well. 

His fine dick is hitting me just right from the get go and he’s an aggressive fuck.  Wasting no time, he moves from regular doggy, to pile drive from above doggy.  Good thing I stretched out my hole before he arrived.  After that, we move to the bed. He fucks me every which way we can come up with, to the point that he literally fucks the cock rings right off my balls!  We’re both liking what we see in the mirror at end of the bed: hey, we look good together.  Something about his punk energy lights my fire.  He’s also my height, so looking over my shoulder and kissing is no problem.  It’s a very athletic sparring, and when he fires off his load in my ass I collapse, totally impressed with our dexterity and endurance. 

Cuddling up on the bed, he tells me he didn’t mean to cum so soon (half hour mark).  That’s silly, I tell him, we were totally killing it.  Then Mr. Rock Star proceeds to talk.  He tells me stories about his days as the lead singer of his band and what it was like to be gay and sought after by female groupies.  The stories are entertaining and bittersweet.  The entire time he’s talking, I’m gently toying with his spent dick, fairly certain that, given his previous performance and inclination, there’s another load in the offing.

After about ten minutes of downtime, during which I do not push my own agenda one iota, his dick is up and hard again.  He’s in the middle of a story about a pyrotechnics gone wrong when I go down on him.  The second time around there is less urgency and more technique.  This is true of both of us in relation to all activities.  Even the kissing is better, for it is now less rushed, the energy less scatter.  Moving up for a kiss, I sit on his dick and pound my ass into his pelvis.  Flipping me on my back, he doesn’t miss a stroke.  I concentrate on opening and tightening my hole to great success and he’s very appreciative of my efforts.  I hand him the digital camera, because one of my goals is to get a pic of every dick in my ass the weekend.  He ‘takes’ several shots, but the full flash doesn’t fire and I suspect (correctly) that he’s failed to capture this particular Kodak moment.  I decide not to press the issue.

Things ramp up quickly from there.  The original energy returns and soon we’re like two warriors at battle.   Sweat drips, lips meet, bones grind.  Armpits come into play and it turns out we are both into them.  He loves my funk, fresh and hot from our activities.  We fuck like animals and the fireworks are impressive, as he deposits a second load in my ass.

Lingering, he tells a few more stories before noticing the time (we’re at the two hour mark).  He’s late for his partner’s party.  Without the benefit of a shower, he dresses and exits, leaving me feeling a little like I’ve just been Rhett Butlered – for he is gone with the wind.  I wonder if I would have appreciated it all more if my mind was not filled with thoughts about what was to take place later that night.  It was a great fuck, and I was fully present, bringing my A-game, but still…   I wonder why one is never enough.

I look at the clock.  Time is slipping away.  Checking in with myself, I am filled with doubt.  My resolve slipping, I ask myself…

…am I getting cold feet?

End Part 1

My Evening With a Rude Girl: Janis Ian Live At the Stoughton Opera House

 Janis Ian is a national treasure.  She recently won another Grammy: for Best Spoken Word Recording; a ten CD set she created reading her autobiography, “Society’s Child”.  Michelle Obama even reached out and called her to congratulate her on her achievement; that demonstrates the reach and breadth of this woman’s contribution to music.

Most of you will remember her as the woman who sang “At Seventeen”; a tender, introspective ballad detailing the angst, isolation, and guarded wisdom of an unpopular, ugly duckling teen.   The song was nominated for a Grammy as Song of the Year and also won her a Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance.  The song is now in the Grammy Hall of Fame.

Prior to that, she’d been written off as a one-hit wonder who had spurned the music industry after her initial success, causing quite a bit of controversy in the process.  Her first hit, “Society’s Child” told the haunting story of a young, interracial relationship in the face of prejudice.  It was a record of its time.  She was only 15 years old when it became a hit and had to endure being repeatedly, publically berated by members of her audience, to say nothing of the hate-filled fan mail that came her way.  In spite of the controversy and, in part, because of it, the single eventually landed in the top 20.  She was the toast of the liberal elite and the scourge of the still somewhat segregated South.   She continued to record in order to fulfill her recording contract, but turned her back on the industry itself – giving away the money she earned to friends and worthy causes. 

After a failed marriage, she returned to the music scene in 1971 and was met with incredible indifference.  Undeterred, she kept at it, eventually recording three stellar works: ‘Stars’ (1974), ‘Between The Lines’ (1975), and ‘Aftertones’(1975) - works whose beauty still astounds me personally to this day and recordings I urge anyone with an interest in great songwriting to discover for themselves. 

Battling industry and label indifference and interference for the remainder of her major label contract, she found herself adrift once more in the mid-eighties.  After nine years in seclusion, she returned once more with the controversial ‘Breaking Silence’, which was nominated for Folk Album of the Year.

She continues to record, tour, and write, and currently resides in Nashville with Pat; her partner and wife of 24 years.  Her songs have been recorded by Bette Midler, John Cougar Mellencamp, Joan Baez, Roberta Flack, Mel Tormé, Dusty Springfield, Amy Grant, Nina Simone, Kathy Mattea, and Sheena Easton, to name just a few.   A favorite cause (besides gay marriage)?  The Pearl Foundation.  Named after her mother, the organization provides scholarship money for women who wish to go to college.

So, I happen to have the opportunity to see her at the intimate Stoughton Opera House while on vacation this week.  It was a blessed event.  I can’t think of a better environment in which to experience this woman and her music.  She is a musician’s musician, in amazing voice, at turns witty and charming, political, savvy, and wise.  The evening surpassed my wildest dreams.  I even got to shake her hand and speak with her briefly after the show. 

You see, I’d been waiting to meet her since 1976.  That was the year I discovered ‘Stars’ and ‘Aftertones’ at my small town’s tiny public library.  I checked those albums out dozens of times and listened to them non-stop, pouring over the words, searching for clues to the meaning of life and how I was to navigate the world.  Something about her world-weary, cryptic lyrics spoke to me very deeply and I have been a life-long fan ever since.  She’s one of the reasons I’m still alive – that is the power of music and that is the power of her music, for me.  She remains one of the greatest songwriters of all time.

I encourage you to check out her music, much of which can be heard for free (and purchased) at her website: http://www.janisian.com/ , along with her incredible biography, which she was kind enough to sign for me.  In fact, she was very generous with her time and music that evening;  a performance that will live in my heart forever.

And Boom Goes The Dynamite: Tale of An Early Discharge

On my way to Madison, I stopped by to see a friend in Eau Claire on the way there.  We've played a couple of times before and I always have a great time with him.  He’s sweet and oddly conventional, given his age and his many kinks.  He’s in his mid-thirties, probably 5’5”, and stocky.  His skin is so soft, yet his body is really firm.  An incredible kisser, with great energy and imagination, his most outstanding feature is… you guessed it,  his dick.  Nicely thick, it’s at least 8.5 – and I have to estimate here, because it has a wicked curve, unlike any I’ve encountered, it may well be nine inches.

I arrive, enter his apartment, and begin to strip at the door.  As I’m taking off my boots, he appears from around the corner, in jogging pants and a tee.  He works overnight, so I am impeding on his sleep time, but he always makes an exception for me.  He smiles and moves into the bathroom.  I finish stripping, grab my bag of goodies and follow. 

His clothing has already hit the floor.  We kiss.  And it’s like oxygen to me.  We lose ourselves.  Aggressively, I pull back his head – this occurs any time someone is shorter than me.  Even though he’s the top (and quite aggressive and dominant), I like to exert a little power, too, a little push back, if you will.  He tolerates this a while before grabbing my face and redirecting it to his dick, which is hard as a rock from the get go.

Because of the curve, I have to approach it from the side.  It makes for a kind of awkward stance, and I struggle, due to the degree of its curve and thickness, to get half of it in my mouth.  My head keeps trying to figure out the logistics and geometry necessary to accommodate his cock.  I never get the opportunity to complete my task, though.  He wants more kissing.

Soon, he’s on his knees, and I’m thinking he’s going to suck my cock, but no.  Instead he positions himself under me, between my legs, and begins to eat my ass.  Stuck between the tub and the wall opposite it, quarters are a bit tight, but he makes good use of the space.  One of my legs inches up the wall, opening me up, allowing him maximum access.  Dude can eat ass.  And loves doing it.  I am feeling totally piggy and am looking forward to what I assume will be at least an good hour’s worth of fun.

He stands and we kiss a bit more.  Then he tells me he needs to piss.  I know exactly what he’s hinting at… that’s why we’re in the bathroom.  Last time I visited him, he expressed an interest in water sports and we both took turns peeing on each other.  I climb in the tub and he stands over me.  His dick is rock hard, but he eventually able to get a stream going.  It is potent stuff.  I take it in my mouth and spit it back out several times, before he sprays down my entire body.  As this is happening, I am rock hard and close to cumming – and my hand isn’t even touching my dick! That’s how this kind of power exchange affects me. 

We shower.  He finishes first and heads to the bedroom.  I stay behind, check my ass, gargle.  I like water sports, but I also like a clean mouth.  Walking into the bedroom, he has a gangbang vid playing on the big screen.  Strewn across the bed: poppers, lube, various small towels, and a canister of some kind of spray.  Crawling up between his legs, I lick his balls, and work his monster in my mouth and down my throat.  Something about this position actually makes his dick easier to handle and I get within a half inch of the base.  It’s a tight, tight fit – and, again, due to that wicked curve – I feel as if the damn thing is lodged somewhere in my sinus cavities. 

Mr. Eau Claire does not remain supine for long.  After some more kissing, he is up, eating my hole.  This morphs into a kind of 69 position with me eating his ass as well.  We get piggy with it.  Soon, he’s behind me, working his cock into my eager, willing, needy hole.  Seriously, I purposely put off any sex until this encounter because I love it when my desire for sex evolves into need.  It heightens everything, like a rush of oxygen after being submerged underwater for a long time.   Faced sideways on the bed , I have a great view of the television.  I glance over my shoulder and what should I see, but my own ass staring back at me!  He has cleverly placed a pair of mirrors on the wall behind me, which makes for perfect viewing.  I am entranced as I watch him mount me – yes, I feel like a porn star.  And I feel… completely filled.  That fucking dick is thick and that curve manages to stretch the inside of my hole in a manner unlike any other.

He hits that hole doggy-style for a good ten minutes, before standing up and power fucking me from above.  I love it. Then he manipulates my body so I am on my side and he is on one knee so that his dick hits me where a straight dick would.  I am loving this, love feeling his power and drive – AND we’re doing this all without any poppers.  I keep stealing looks in the mirror and suggest something I had planned on doing with every trick I encounter during this vacation: I want him to take a pic of his dick in my hole!  He agrees, and I run to get my camera.

I return with the camera and find him lying with his head on the pillow again.  I turn on the camera and set it aside.  About to start sucking his dick again, I realize I want to sit on it instead.  I do.  This seems to surprise him, I guess.  The energy in the room changes, but I choose to ignore it, and with my feet firmly planted flat on either side of his body, I begin raising and lowering myself on his prick.  Using the headboard for a bit of leverage, I just get to the point where I’m really bouncing, when he makes a noise, like discomfort, but not exactly, again, more like he’s surprised.  At this moment, while bouncing on his dick, I look him in the eyes and tell him I want him to breed my hole deep and hard…

And boom goes the dynamite.

He’s caught off guard by it.  So am I.  Did he just shoot his load?  Wow. He did!

Not that I’m complaining.  But he is.  He says ‘Who does that to a dick?’  There’s a little anger in his tone and I don’t know how to react. He’s clearly disappointed.  And I understand why.   We usually play for a good hour before he fires one off.  In a way, we just got started.  Hell, we didn’t even get to the poppers, which have always been a big part of our play.  I sit on his dick and he is squirming like it’s a bit painful, but pleasure pain.  Concerned, I dismount and clean him up a bit with my tongue.  He tells me that he came because he wasn’t in control, I was.  Again, I don’t know what to feel.  Is he blaming me?  I try not to read too much into it.  Honestly,  I’m kind of gleeful and satisfied. 

Reaching over, I turn off the camera.  His dick is going soft and I realize that a pic is not going to be happening after all.  No biggie.  I move in to cuddle, hoping that there will be kisses and some intimacy.  But, no.  I mean, I do cuddle him, but it feels very one-sided.  His head is turned away, so kissing is off the books, too.  Now I’m still all horned up, pressing my hard dick into his thigh.  I have one of my legs hiked up between his, pressing my inner thigh onto his soft dick.  Grinding into him on occasion, I kind of hope that there’s a second load in the offing, but decide not to push the issue.

Instead, I do what I used to do with one of my old boyfriends to get him in the mood; I very, very gently play with one of his nips, holding the tip gently between two fingers and applying just the slightest pressure, holding it there and then releasing it.  It’s subtle and I keep repeating this.  He has his eyes closed and I am thinking, oh, hell, he’s going to sleep.  No biggie.  I had a nice time.  

But then I feel something stir beneath my thigh.  Was that a pulse?  Was that his dick coming back from the dead?  Trying not to read too much into it, I keep concentrating on my nip play.  I feel another little flex, followed by another. Yes, Doctor, I think the patient is coming around.   I decide not to rush anything.  I am enjoying his body, his soft skin.  I want to give him the impression that I value him for more than just his dick.  However, ultimately, I am hoping for another round of action, so I reach down and, sure enough, his cock is hard as a rock. 

My mouth goes south, and I decide to continue to revive my buddy the best way I know.  Licking and sucking, I am thinking, this thing is a go.  Obviously he agrees, because he rises and takes control of my ass immediately.  With one eye to the mirror behind us, I reach over and turn the camera on.  Basically he picks up where we left off before I went to grab the camera, with him fucking me doggy-style.  There is something even more aggressive about his thrusting and the manner in which he’s holding my hips.  I guess he wants me to know exactly who is in charge this time.  

He reaches down and I think, cool, camera time.  But no, instead, he sprays something into a cloth and stuffs it in his mouth.  I am not into PNP play, at all, but poppers are cool and this is merely an aerosol version.  As you know, I love a top that does poppers.  It’s sexy.  His tempo increases, and he’s pounding me hard.  Again, he sprays more stuff on the cloth and then stuffs it into my mouth.  I suck on it.  I have done this once before and it left me kind of paralyzed, but this time, I merely melt a bit.  It’s nice; certainly not unpleasant.

Soon, I’m meeting him thrust for thrust.  More spray, more cloths, more melting.  What he’s using is something called Black Jac, and while it’s nice, it’s not doing all that much for me.  I reach over and grab his poppers – something called BRAZIL.  They do the trick.  Two quick snorts and I am feeling great.  As I’m doing that, Mr. Eau Claire is snapping pics of his dick in my hole.  I could not be happier.  All poppers consumed and pics taken, he gets serious and starts pulling my ass back onto his dick.  Yeah, he’s in control.  I tighten up my hole.  If he wants to cum a second time, I am only too happy to get him there.

He shoots, he scores.  Happy top, happy dick, happy hole. 

He dismounts, clearly pleased with himself.  Still on all fours, I grab the camera and take a pic of my hole.  He grabs the camera from me and takes one, too.  Turning the camera off, I move in for a bit of cuddling.  I can tell he’s wiped.  We talk about his choice on poppers, and then I start watching the gang bang video.  It eventually occurs to me that there are two bottoms and a room full of tops in the film.  We finished just in time to watch wave after wave of cum shots.  He makes fun of me because I wonder aloud if this is one of those Meth infused porno shoots.  He tells me that these people are paid professionals.  I fail to see his point, but let it slide.  Drugs have long been part of porn shoots, amateur or professional.  He then tells me gangbangs are not his thing.  But he has a video of them?   I’m confused. We talk a bit more, but I am definitely feeling a bit of a disconnect.  Is he still angry about what happened earlier?  Clearly he is tired.  I stop talking and then excuse myself. 

Cleaning up in the bathroom, I take another shower, using his shower attachment to clean out my well-fucked hole.  Again, I gargle and brush my teeth.  Dressed, I am ready to hit the road. He’s remained in the bedroom.  I peek in to check on him, he’s curled up with a pillow, asleep.  I resist the temptation to take a pic.  He’s so cute, asleep.  And maybe that was what a lot of this was about… maybe he was feeling sleep deprived. 

I choose not to wake him.  I gather up my things and exit as silently as I entered. 

I text him later in the day and thank him, telling him I had a good time.  He answers back right away, saying he had a good time, too.  It serves as a great beginning to my vacation.

 Madison now lies in my future, and I wonder, what, if anything, will I find there…