Big Fat Hairy Living

Last night before I left work, I was so horny that I had to jerk off in the washroom before leaving. I went in the stall, pulled out my dick, played with it for about 30 seconds, then shot a huge load all over the stall wall.

When I got over to Mark’s place 45 minutes later, I walked in the door and told him what I’d done at work. He thought it was incredible, and just telling him about it got me hard. I was more worked up than I can remember being in a long time; I was talking dirty into his ear, whispering about how I wanted him to shoot a big load down my throat and have him pound my ass. Unfortunately, his roommate was home, or I would have ripped off his jeans and started worshipping his cock right on the spot.

Mark has been having back trouble for the past few days, so he was sitting down on a chair. I was standing next to his chair, rubbing my cock through my jeans against the side of his belly, bending over to whisper in his ear all the things I wanted to do to him. I was so into it that I was getting into that strange spaced-out state one gets into when sex is really good. I was ready to rut like a boar in heat.

Then the door buzzer rang, shaking me out of my trance state and signalling the arrival of Mark’s friend for dinner.

That was the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had that involved nothing more than talk.

Someone recently posted his photos from that dumb bear beauty contest that went on in San Francisco a week or so ago.

Check out the URI for the official IBR web site:

http://www.bosf.org/woof/ibr/

“Woof?” In a web address? Bears don’t woof. Dogs woof.

If it weren’t so much trouble to change my chat handles and e-mail addresses, I’d lose the “cub” thing. This “bear” stuff has gotten really tiresome.

I went on everyone’s favourite pick-up site and immediately got a message from a weird muscle twink.

It turns out that “he” was nothing more than a script. This script engaged me in an ELIZA-like conversation long enough to give me a link to a “webcam” site where I could watch “him” and “his frat buddies” get it on “live.”

It amazes me that someone can take the time to write a script to approximate a real conversation but can’t even bother to use a picture of a bear when they’re in the bear room! Did they think I was dumb enough to click that link? Geez.

I’ve withdrawn from the choir for this term. With all my work stress, personal-life stress and health problems, I don’t have the mental energy to expend on choir. I also don’t want to force myself to go and end up burning out. I’ll return in the fall when preparations start for the next concert.

What do you do when you’re bored at work? Search for pictures of sweaty, sexy, gigantic football players. (Don’t worry. They’re G-rated.)

Me, have a football fetish? Never!

Brunching Shuttlecocks: “Your beard? It makes your wife love you.”

I love surfing Daddyswap.com, not just because of the pictures of daddies, but also because there are always surprises.

Like pictures proving that OJ Simpson has a foot fetish.

I usually hate incestuous linking, but Greg’s summary of the weekend is too funny not to bring to everyone’s attention.

I^* really, really like watching bear porn. All those big hairy guys are just so hot.

You see, my problem is that I can’t get enough of it. Nobody in Capital City talks to me at the bars, especially after that incident where I talced my hair to look like a daddy. Because they all avoid me, I need to resort to porn. That’s OK — I’m tired of real men anyway, especially after my last boyfriend. When I tried to dump him, he had no idea what I was talking about! He even denied we’d been boyfriends, and we’d been going out for a whole 48 hours! Damn that gay community with all its factions and fictions!

So I’ve resorted to bear porn. It’s the only way I can find men who understand me. At first I figured that starring in it would be a good way to get on the good side of some porn producers so that I could get some free stuff. The problem is that they wanted me to do kinky stuff like drink piss and wear collars, and I’ve always hated those freaks who wear leather — except for my collar, which I bought because it looks so cool on me. After trying a brief career in porn, I realized that being a porn model wasn’t for me. I tried to return to a life of just viewing porn, but all those sites require credit cards, which I don’t have. I’ve even tried asking for PayPal donations to help out, but only two people bothered donating. That’s just not enough!

I’ve come up with the perfect plan! I’ll write an “academic paper!” That way I’ll get to talk to tons of hot bear porn stars and webmasters! Just think, if I tell them I’m doing “research,” those webmasters might even give me access to their members areas! And what a cool way to break the ice with lots of bear porn stars! I might not get to talk to any real bear porn stars like Jack Radcliffe, but I’ll settle for amateurs who’ll have sex on film because they have low self-esteem instead. They’re still hot! Think of all the cybersex interviewing I’ll be able to do on AIM!

OK, OK, I know that usually people writing academic papers do lots of reading of boring old books. Maybe they even do the work of finding people to interview rather than trying to get them to respond first. But nobody who’ll see my “academic paper” knows that! I mean, my last essay was really great, wasn’t it?

Yum. Bear porn!

^*Not me. (Return to beginning)