No Shit...

"This is 1752% MORE than other websites who took this test." I guess the other guys that took this test were a bunch of pussies.

Fuckwads...

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You've Got Questions

Very few comment on this blog (thanks Supplicant!). However, many email me. Lots of questions. Weird questions. Specific questions. Perverts. I like that. I’ve compiled a bunch of them. They’re not in any specific order.

Why Awkward? You’re not awkward, you get laid a lot.
Originally it was to be about my relationships. I try; they fail. My dick gets me in a lot of trouble. My sex life is awkward. Started weird. Continues to be.

How old were you when you started fooling with guys?
Twelve. Older brother. Later with my eldest brother. Stepfather and younger brother, too.

Were you out in high school?
Fuck no. I had a girlfriend all through high school. Voted “Most Likely to Get Married.” Little did they know.

What about college?
No. I was in a frat and I would have had to leave. I wouldn’t trade the experience. Strange as it was, I had fun.

You mentioned baseball, what position?
Catcher from Little League through Freshman year. Eventually moved to outfield. Knees were going. Mostly Centerfield. I was a power hitter.

Any great locker room stories?
No. Eye candy, but no hot stories. Occasional boners, grab ass, etc. No sucking off. I fooled around with guys in cars, bedrooms, etc. I did fuck around with my coach in his office. He started me hustling.


Your coach was your pimp?
Sort of. I didn’t have much money. One of six kids. I was looking for work to pay for college (no scholarship coming). Coach made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I put myself through college hustling.


More details, please?
Not sure of all the relationships. I think he was started by his college coach. There were a few of us from other schools. I mostly had stuff after practice or a game. They wanted me in uniform. Lots of men with kids my age. LOTS. I got good at role playing. I learned to suppress my laughter: some guys are truly bizarre. Call a guy “daddy” and beg him to fuck you—he’ll pay well. Repeatedly.

How many guys did you have to fuck to pay tuition?In high school, a lot. It gave me a unique insight into men. In college, I lucked into Ed: my patron; sponsor. A very successful businessman who was in town a few times a month. He paid for everything. Requirement: I had to be available when he was in town. Plus summer vacations. I told my parents it was an internship. We travelled all summer—mostly Europe. We fucked. We drank. We fucked. We shopped. He gave me an entirely different type of education. He’s still a good friend.

You’re totally gay?
I do fuck women. That’s just for laughs. Escorting for parties, weddings, etc. We have fun. We fuck. They cum. They love me. But I’m totally gay.

Are you still a hooker?
I prefer the term hustler. No. I don’t think I could do it now. I lucked out: No cops. No deadly diseases. I wouldn’t know where to start now.


Does your family know?
That I’m gay? Yes. That I hustled? No. As for my brothers and I fucking around: we don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about sex much.


You mentioned fooling with your step-dad, was it hot, or rape?
Neither. It was okay. I got off. But he didn’t do much for me. It was nice to get attention from him. He mostly ignored me. Decent dick. Not a great fuck. We only did it a handful of times.

Does your mom and real dad know anything?
Mom knows I’m gay, but doesn’t talk about it. She has no idea about the wild stuff. Pops died when I was five.


Do you feel abused? [clarified: hustling, brothers, coach, patron, etc.]
No. I feel lucky to have had the experience. My brothers taught me a lot. Ironically about girls. Eldest taught me how to finger fuck a girl. I put that to great use at a party in the 8th grade. I had a rep as a stud through high school. Hustling got me to school. Ed (sponsor/patron) gave me a college education. Travel. Learned a lot about European art and culture. It may have warped me on relationships. I’m working on that.

You write weird and rarely use conjunctions. Why do you say “I suck him” and not “I sucked him.” Is all of it calculated, or are you dumb?
Hemingway, I’m not. Admittedly, my writing skills are limited. As for style: I’m usually pretty quiet. I don’t get flowery with language. My writing reflects that. I keep it in the present tense so the reader is there with me. I limit it to the facts: “His dick is big. Uncut. Mushroom head. His bush has a deep musky scent. I inhale as I suck him deep... He shoots his thick load down my throat. I swallow it all.”

Why haven’t you been writing?
Good question. One would think I just stuck that in there, like it’s a fake question… Work has been busy. Life has been busy. I write when I get down time.


But you post to Crooked Vein, your wildly popular picture site
“Wildly popular”? Okay, that is a fake question. Posting pics takes a couple of minutes. I look at nasty pics to relax. It’s easy to throw a few things up. Sorry I haven’t posted. I have been getting laid. Really. I have. Some of it isn’t that interesting: A fuck buddy came by. We sucked each other off. He left.

I’ll try harder.

I hope this answers some questions. Write if you need more information. I threw the questions on here and then deleted the emails. If you wrote with a question and it wasn’t answered, write again. (Note, I used conjunctions in two sentences in a row!)

What A Wonderful Night for Oscar! Oscar, Oscar, Who Will Win?

Going to an Oscar party at a buddy's place tonight. Big party. I've only heard about. This is my first invite. We pull names out of a hat -- we "are" those people for the night. If our celebrity wins, then we win... sex.

Winners get to fuck the losers... or vice versa. Not too sure. I'm in an Oscar pool at work, but tonight I don't care whether I win or lose. I just want to be on time in case my category is first.

I'll blog about this later this week. Enjoy the show--I'm certain I will.

New Blog

Not that I post enough here to need another blog, but I started one for my pics. I check out a lot of porn. I thought I'd share my findings. Check it out. Let me know what you think. If it sucks, I'll dump it. You got some nasty pics you think should be up there? Forward them my way.

Get fucked--I mean that in a very good way.

[UPDATE: Not exactly what I thought it was... I'll give details later--must sleep]

Stuck in the Middle...

A nice way to spend a Sunday morning...

Boxing Day

December 26. I’m at the mall. Madness. Everyone is returning crap or trying to buy more crap on sale. I’m the former. My sister gave me a nasty sweater.

I’m quietly scoping out the guy in front of me. About 5’6”, hot bod, great ass, I want him bad. I lean forward, “You have the hottest ass.” He turns and smiles.

Larson is hot. He knows it too. He also knows I want him bad. He is also my sister’s brother-in-law. He’s straight; not narrow. I know he’s not going to fuck me, but he flirts with me enough that I think I can get him if he’s drunk enough.

The store won’t take back the sweaters. Bought on sale “as is.” My sister is a cheap as bitch. Larson and I decide to go to lunch—away from the mall. We make small talk on the way to my car. I offer to take him to my place to blow him. He asks if I’ll swallow.

We laugh. All a big joke. Except I’d blow him in a New York fucking minute.

We stand by my truck deciding what we want. I’m cold. I’m wearing only a t-shirt so I get in my truck. Larson jumps in the other side. We go back and forth on restaurants. I feel like Mexican. He wants Chinese. Whatever.

I ask him if he got laid over Christmas. He says “no.” I’m shocked. How can a guy this hot not get laid constantly? He shakes his head, “It’s a mystery isn’t it? To let this go to waste…” he points to his dick.

I grope his thigh. I tell him if he were gay, he’d be getting it all the time. “From you!” he laughs. True. Very true.

I don’t move my hand.

He shifts. He asks me to move my hand. I ask him if it’s because he’s getting hard (I can see his bulge growing). He lies and says no.

“So you’re not hard?” I move my hand to his bulge. He’s rock hard. I realize I’m close to getting him.

Larson pushes me away. I apologize.

We do “the dance,” where I convince him it’s not gay to get a BJ from “a fag.” I throw all the usual bullshit logic at him: it doesn’t matter who straight-guys are with, they think about someone else anyway, so close your eyes and dream. How “fags” give the best head. A top point earner: no one will ever know. I blow other straight guys all the time. And my favorite: it’s no big deal, you’re just getting your rocks off.

I know I’m going to get him. If he weren’t interested, we wouldn’t be talking. He needs me to beg. He needs to pretend to resist. Finally, a breakthrough: “So no one will ever know?”

He is mine.

I drop his seat back a little. The console between the seats gets pushed back so I have unobstructed access to his crotch. I pull his shirt up and kiss his hairy stomach. I love his silky happy trail. I’ve seen it enough at the lake that it’s memorized.

I move down to his crotch. I’ve been rubbing and groping it. He’s rock hard. I pop open the button on his jeans and unzip. I get a slight whiff of his crotch. Now I’m rock hard.

I pull back the band of his underwear and his cock slaps against his belly. Larson sighs. I slip my hand down to cup his balls and play with his taint. With my other hand, I lift his pulsating shaft into my mouth. He groans softly.

His dick is not that big, but he’s so beautiful that I don’t care. It’s a nice dick and it goes down easy. He coos just enough to be hot, without sounding like he’s watched too much porn.

I look up. His eyes are closed and he’s got a silly grin on his face. I take him back in my mouth and go all the way down. I gag a little. Even though he doesn’t make me gag, I know how straight-boys love that shit: “My dick is so big he gagged on it!”

Larson tenses and whimpers slightly. He doesn’t warn me. He just cums. I’d swallow anyhow, but I’d like a little warning.

His dick still in my mouth, I look up to him. His eyes are still closed and he’s smiling. I continue sucking. I’m thinking about blowing him again. I hear a car start. I sit up.

The mini van in front of us is pulling out. I don’t think the mom inside would have even noticed us if I hadn’t sat upright by pulling my head out of Larson’s lap.

“Shit!” Larson yells, “She sees us!”

The mother gives a sly smile as she turns to see if all is clear behind her. “She’s cool.” I smile, grabbing at his still-hard dick.

“Dude, she could tell!”

I ask him who is she going to tell? Besides, she smiled. We’re safe. He’s not convinced and starts to put away his still-hard dick.

“No seconds?” Larson stops. He looks at me. I think he finally realizes I’m not some drunk sorority bitch getting him off. I live for dick. His dick.

His dick flaps as he flexes it. I move back down. I take his hairy balls into my mouth and suck on them. They aren’t very big, but they have a fantastic musk.

I push his jeans down so he can open his legs and I can get in there better. I stroke his hardening cock and tongue his balls and taint. His ass is so close I can’t resist. My tongue pokes down by his hole. The guttural noise he makes tells me he is seriously digging this.

Jeans are off. Legs are in the air. Anyone walking by will absolutely know what’s going on. He doesn’t seem to care; neither do I. I poke my tongue into the dense mass of hairy along the crack of his furry ass. I get in deep. I chew and play with his musky hairy hole as he moans in pleasure.

Still jerking him, I move up and start licking his balls again. They pull up. He’s close. I feel his dick harden more. I take Larson’s aching cock into my mouth so he can nut. With my free hand I finger his hairy hole. Typical straight boy: loves to have his ass played with.

“I’m gonna…!” is the warning I get. My mouth is filled with his jizz. It feels like more than before. I swallow.

I pull up. He’s looking right at me. I get the feeling he was eyes wide open this time.

While we were busy another mini van replaced the empty spot in front of us. They’re not around. I’m sure they saw something. “I should go…” Larson is pulling up his pants.

“No thirds?” He double takes. I smile.

Larson gets out, thanks me and starts walking to his car. My cock is aching in my pants. I pull it out. I will not be able to drive with this hard on. I’m going to have to JO before heading home.

I look down and spit on my unit. Looking up I see Larson heading back. I assume he’s lost. I roll down the window. He stands there, insecure. His hands are jutted into his pockets.

“Um… were you joking about thirds?” He asks the ground, not looking up at me.

“No.”

He looks up, waiting for me to invite him in. I’m still stroking my dick.

“Um… did I thank you for the, um…”

“Yeah.”

He nods. He’s still waiting.

“Um… should I have done… you, um, know”

I don’t, um, know. I just look at him.

“Um… not [points to mouth], but [hand job motion].”

I nod for him to jump in.

He hops in chatting. “I got to my car and I realized that I was, um… fuck!” He sees my hard-on. I put his hand on my dick, close my eyes and kick back. I hear him whisper “big” as he begins to stroke.

Straight-boys give lousy hand jobs. However, because they’re straight boys, I’m into it. Their awkwardness is hot.

“Spit on it,” I command, eyes still closed. He stops. I open my eyes and look at him. “Lube it up.” I close my eyes again. He spits on it. The warm spit in the cold truck feels nice. If I wanted to I could nut right now. I don’t.

“A little tighter,” I instruct, keeping my eyes closed. With his free hand, Larson plays with my balls, my taint… His finger touches my hole. I gasp. He won’t lick my hole, but he will play with it. I like that. I like that a lot.

I open my eyes and look at him. He is mesmerized watching his hand pumping my shaft while the other pokes at my hole. “Want to fuck me?” I’m not joking. He looks at me. “Seriously. Do you want to fuck me? I’m tighter than any pussy you’ve been in.”

He lets go and sits back. I lean over and open the glove box. I pull out a condom and some lube (I was a boy scout and I’m always prepared). He looks around at the parking lot.

I want some dick in me, so I cut it short. “Look, no one’s going to see. No one looks beyond their own little world. Get your dick out of your goddamned pants and fuck me.”

I throw the condom at him. I lube my hole. Larson quickly pulls open his jeans and slips the condom on. He doesn’t take his jeans off. For some reason that turns me on more. I pull off my sweatshirt and put it on the plastic covering the spot where the middle console goes. It’s not going to be comfortable, but otherwise it will be annoying. I put a little lube on his dong as I slide into position.

Larson looks a little lost. I have to direct him. “On top.” “move over.” “That’s not it.” I guide him in. “Push.” “Harder.”

“Holy Christ.” Larson calls out as he enters. “Oh, holy Christ!” I pull him down so it’s not so obvious to any passers by what’s going on. Of course, my legs are in the air and his foot leaving marks against the steamed up windows.

Larson’s a nice fuck. Good rhythm. I keep telling him to fuck harder. He complies. I tighten my “grip” around his shaft. He is loving it. He puts his head next to mine as he fucks my ass hard. I tell him how much I love his cock. He grunts with each thrust. I wrap my arms around him. I want to kiss him. Bad. If I don’t get this over with I will kiss him and ruin everything.

“Are you gonna cum in me?” I whisper in his ear. I’m pumping my cock hard.

He begins to buck wildly and crying out. “Take it! Take it! Take it!” Sweet Larson is blowing his load in my hole.

I was hoping to cum along with him. It’s taking me longer. I pump my cock frantically. Larson sits up. He leans down and spits on my dick. He’s so close to sucking it. I nut.

Cum spews all over my chest. I lay there breathing heavily. I wipe the jizz off my chest and the lube off my ass with my t-shirt.

Larson looks a bit lost. He’s trying to process. I thank him and begin to dress. I’m making this casual. It’s no big deal even though it is a very big deal. I grab the back of his neck and tell him he’s an awesome fuck. I give his back a congratulatory smack. I want to say, “See? This isn’t gay…” but it is. We both know it.

He dresses and hops out. He looks back at me. I make the “my lips are sealed” motion. He gives a thumbs up. I see the condom on the floor. I flick it at him and it lands on the window of the car parked next to me. He laughs and shuts the door. I watch him (and his hot ass) walk off into the cold to find his car.

I drive off wearing the only top in the car: an ugly sweater. I’m going home to send my sister a thank-you note.

Fill Up

It’s Thanksgiving. I’m with my family. More about another exciting family weekend later.

Drove up to The Ranch. Grandparent’s owned the ranch for decades. It’s no longer the money machine it was in it’s day, but it’s self-supporting. The Ranch is also our “family compound.” Holidays are all held here. Miss out on a holiday and we will talk about you.

Almost there. I stop for gas in the middle of nowhere. It’s dusk. The sun has set. There’s still some light. The place has a lone attendant. He’s young and cute. He offers to put air in my tires. Why not? There is a pump in the front, but he motions me to the back.

He squats to put air in my front tire. He makes sure I can see his big package. Bending over for the rear tire, he shows off his ass. The kid is not subtle at all. His redish hair gets darker as the light dims. However, his beautiful smile radiates.

Standing up, he asks if I need anything else. He’s hard. His pants look as if they’re about to burst open. I bite: “Yeah, what’s in your pants?” I feel like I’m in a bad 70’s porno.

I move forward. He seems surprised that I’m unzipping his pants. When his warm dick flops into the cool evening air, he gasps. I play with it. Our faces are close together put he won’t look at me. I kiss his cheek. My lips scrape on his stubble. I move to his neck and nibble. He gasps again.

I think he’s dreamed about doing this, but it’s never happened. Baby, I’m gonna make your fantasy come true. I rub his muscled chest and arms through his old T-shirt.

I drop to my knees and pull his fat cock into my mouth. Hard before, he’s now like a rock. I can barely get it away from his stomach. I slurp for a few seconds and he unleashes his load. Thick and chunky. A lot of it. I milk him completely. Every drop is savored and swallowed.

Standing up, I move to kiss him. He turns away. There is no fucking way that he’s getting off without getting me off. I nibble on his neck as I tuck his junk back in his pants. I ask him if he wants to blow me. He mentions about going back to work.

Not. Gonna. Happen.

I unzip. Semi-hard, it’s out in a second. Moving forward, I slip it into his pants. I thrust forward. My cock slides through his flannel boxers and amongst his dick; his balls. It’s a tight area, so it feels warm and nice. I’m horny, so this won’t take long.

Thrusting forward, I grab the back of his neck and pull our faces together. We are breathing heavy on each other. So close to kissing. He won’t. Straigh-boy shit. My cock is rubbing against his bush and down to his balls. The soft underwear is rubbing against the other side. Feels nice. He’s getting hard again.

I hear a car pull up to the pumps and honk.

He tells me to stop. I just grunt and keep thrusting. My face is buried in his neck. He smells like grease and sweat. It makes me hornier.

The car honks again.

I thrust faster and harder. I tell him to grab my ass. He doesn’t. I say it louder. Out of fear, he grabs it and pulls me close.

“Anyone here?!” someone yells.

“Pluh… pluh… please.” He grunts.

I think I hear the guy approaching. I nut. It’s been a few days. Big load. Very wet. That makes me smile.

I push away. “Customer,” I nod to the front.

The kid runs off, zipping up his pants.

I drive around the corner. The kid is filling the tank of some SUV. I can clearly see the wet stains around his crotch. I dropped quite a load. I drive off rather proud of myself.

If tradition holds, that will be the first load of many this weekend. And if my luck holds, I’ll need to get some air in my tires on the trek home Sunday.