Completely Naked

Confessions of Less Than Perfect Encounters

This dude is totally fuckable! Wouldn't you agree?

I was reading your e-mails and came across a few questions, all similar in nature: "Do you ever have a less then perfect encounter? " My short answer is Fuck Yea, haven't we all.  My long answer is below:

I've had plenty of bad encounters in my lifetime but, through experience and careful choosing, have cut the number in half since my early days.   I didn't really want to write about them because it just wasn't sexy to me or, I thought, for you.  I've been told that it doesn't matter, that you would find it interesting and if this blog really is a record of my sex life then it is only fair that I post those also.  So, ok, message received.  I'll post the bad ones, but instead of making a story of it, I'm going to give you a quick summary.  Below is the catch up entry:

Since August, when I started this blog, I've had roughly five bad encounters (yes five, don't judge me dude), three where I didn't even make it in the door because the the first guy who answered was flaky and scary; the second on heavier drugs than pot (I just can't put that shit in my body cause I want to be able to masturbate well into my 50's when I become a dirty old man but I do love to get stoned way more that I like getting drunk.  In fact I hate drinking, it makes me sick); and the third seemed like he wanted to hurt me, so I turned around and ran.

As far as the other two:  I answered an ad in the list to do a massage exchange with an athletic type guy.  When I arrived, he was hot alright, but gave such a horrible massage I had to stop it and leave.  The fucking guy was massaging bone instead of muscle.  Who the fuck is so stupid doesn't understand the human body, that they massage the bone?

The second encounter was at this club that has 'watersports' where guys get into peeing on each other.  I never thought about this being a fetish in my portfolio of fetishes but got talked into going by a guy online.  Everyone was naked, which was hot, and carrying and drinking water.  There were these cement rooms where guys peed on each other.  I did some peeing on guys that were really into it.  To me this wasn't very exciting.  Then I got peed on which, again, wasn't very exciting.  In fact, I completely deflated - highly unusual for me.  I know this is a big turn on for some guys and I am FULLY supportive of any fetish but this just doesn't turn me on.

Shit, I feel like I just went to confession.  How many Hail Mary's is that Father?

OMG! I F#cked a Girl on NYE

Yup.  You read the headline correctly, but before we get to that.

I think its Armageddon in California.  Storm after storm has been pounding us for weeks now.  Northern California has had only three days where it didn't rain.  I don't even own a fucking raincoat because it just doesn't rain here.  Every time I go out now, I get soaked and it wasn't any different this weekend.

I flew to So Cal on Friday with almost no time to check into the Standard and drive over to the party in the Hollywood Hills.  My friends Matt and Matt (yes that's their real names and they're a couple) just bought this sweet, and very large place in the old Hollywoodland neighborhood.  From their driveway you can see the Hollywood sign, and from their back yard you can see all of LA all the way to the coast; at least that's what they say cause I couldn't see anything in the dark.  I still don't understand what, exactly, they do for a living to afford such a sweet place.

Matt and Matt are one of the most conservative gay couples on the face of the planet and my only Republican friends.  We have had some great blood-slinging debates on the current Presidency, but that's a whole other blog, one that I will never write.

I caught up with a lot of my old friends and talked throughout the night.  I stayed until around 5am and then had to call it a night.

I called Nathan and Jeff Saturday to find out how the Underwear party went.  They said it rained really hard and the turnout wasn't all that great.  Both agreed to just wear a sock and said they followed through with it. 

That afternoon, Matt, Matt and I met up, had lunch and hit the stores at the Beverly Center.  Then it was back to the hotel to nap before the big night.

The majority of my friends in LA aren't gay.  I really don't know how this happened but it's my reality in that part of the world and I'm glad SF is different.  Michael and Charlotte have been married for 4 years and are some of my dearest friends.  I met Mike surfing down near Laguna Beach many years ago and he has since left his surfing days for marriage and a corporate job.  They're a typical LA couple and one of the two (see Matt and Matt above) reasons Nate didn't want to come.  They live in the hills of Laurel Canyon, drive really expensive cars they can't afford, and throw wild, lavish parties that have to have at least one celebrity whether it be a B-lister or D-lister, it doesn't matter just as long as they have been on TV.

So I get to the party around 10pm, fashionably late (not really I overslept), found Mike and Buffy (my nickname for Charlotte), hugs and kisses, and then worked the rest of the crowd.  This whole time I have my gadar on full scan, but can't find one fucking gay guy in the whole party; lots and lots of hot sexy guys and girls, but no guys setting off my alarms. 

They have a beautiful house on the Valley side in Studio City.  The whole backside of the place is like 18 foot, floor to ceiling window that overlooks on of those infinity pools.

So I'm making the rounds and looking at the house when Buffy comes over to introduce me to this girl, Arly, whose all giggly and shy like she likes me or something.  I look over at Buffy and then look back at Arly, "I'm gay," I blurted out and then looked back at Buffy with daggers.  She giggles again, "That's ok, Charlotte told me, but I wanted to meet you."  She takes my hand and leads me over to the couch.  I look back at Charlotte, whose waving bye, bye.

So Arly and I sit down and she pulls out a joint.  At this gesture, I'm already warming up to her.  We talk for like half an hour and it turns out we have a lot in common.  I'm also noticing how fucking supermodel beautiful she is, but not in a sexual way though; and how I really like her style of dress.  During the conversation she's flirting heavily with me, practically in my lap, saying things like, "I love your big eyes . . . your long eyelashes . . . your dirty-blond hair."  I'm eating all this up, because frankly, who wouldn't.  Then she's unbuttoning my shirt, which by the way was a hot Versace I picked up earlier that day.  I protest just a little but I'm more concerned by the hard-on that's growing in my pants.  She gets it all the way open and is feeling my chest and abs up and down and looking into my eyes, chatting away about I forget what.

I'm snapped out of the moment by loud cheers and a count down, 10, 9, 8 . . . .3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!  Arly plants a kiss on me, shoving her tongue down my throat.  By this time I am stoned, drunk and hard and don't really care all that much that she's a girl.

Everyone is singing and cheering.  Arly drags me off though the crowd into a backroom where she shoves me on a bed, pulls my pants down and wraps her lips around my cock.  Fuck, she is going to town, giving me head that rivals any guy I've been blown by.  I get really worked up and can't help but flip her around aggressively where I'm on top.  I kiss her madly and she's working my cock with her hand.  "Fuck me Jared, Fuck me!" she screams.  I find myself yanking down her pants, pulling a condom out of my pocket and then shoving my cock into her.  I'm fucking her intensely.  She's clawing my back and screaming, "Fuck me, Fuck me!"  With a huge warning, I unload into her.  She grinds her crotch into me as I cum, working out every last drop and then kisses me.

We clean up and then head back into the party.  I'm a little embarrassed now, but she's all happy and smiles, joking with me about what just happened.  Buffy meets us at the hallway entrance smiling, "Where did you two come from?"

We part until the end of the night where she gives me her phone number, saying that she respects that I'm gay and would like to be friends.

I can't believe I spent the first hour of the New Year fucking a girl.  This is not how I envisioned it.

Cute Boy on the Muni

I was on my way to work this morning, early as I always have to. Yes, I am one of the hardest working queers on the west coast. Not because I want to because my taste and lifestyle demand it. I am a slave to high fashion and beautiful things.

The muni, San Francisco's subway, was crowded. I spotted this striking guy; early 20's, short blond hair, smooth and flawless tan skin and large crystal blue eyes. He was looking at me and quickly put his head down when my eyes met with his. I couldn't get over how beautiful this guy was. It looked as though he was on his way to the gym as he was in adidas shorts and a green tanktop. He wasn't overly muscular but the way he handled himself made him more sexy than any muscle boy could be.

My gaydar must have been off or something because I didn't pick up right away that he was gay. The whole time I was thinking through all this I was staring at him - total stalker, I know. He looked up again and I stared back without taking my eyes off him. He smiled, timidly, and put his head back down. That's when I knew he was in to me to.

I made my way, through the crowded train, over to him. He was a little startled when he looked up and I was within arms reach of him. He looked down again. I took off my headphones and bent down slightly to look at his face. His eyes caught mine, I raised up and he smiled again. "Hi, I'm Jared," I said. Shyly he said his name was Matt. "Where you headin." "Back home from the gym. How bout you." "To work," I said. "You have beautiful eyes." "Thanks," he said. "I'm sorry I was staring before." "No problem," I said. "I'm glad you did. I think your fucking hot." He perked up a little. "You look good in that shirt," he said. "Most guys can't pull off looking hot in a white business shirt, but you do." I didn't go into the fact that I drove my tailor absolutely nuts re-cutting the business shirts I bought at Macy's to give my tall thin body the illusion of that perfect 'V' we all spend hours in the gym to achieve. Yes boys for $10 a shirt you can do it to. A little secret I picked up during my tenure living in Hollywood.

Anyway. In our continued conversation I got him to talk about his apartment, how it was just painted and he didn't know if it was the right color and that was my cue. "Would you like me to take a look at it?" "Sure," he said. "When can you make it?" "How's now?" "Um, great," he said nervously. I am sure he was thinking the same thing as me.

He put his key into the lock of his apartment, twisted, pushed and then I took over, turning him around, embracing his face with my hand and locking lips. He was surprised at first but quickly reciprocated, sticking his tongue down my throat. Hands were everywhere. I pulled his shirt over his head. He started to undo buttons but then lost patience ripping it open the rest of the way. I moved in to take off his shorts but he got to me first, taking off my belt and pushing my pants down. I reached down. He was hard under his shorts. I had already been hard since the train. He move his hand all over my boxer briefs and then shoved his fingers into them grabbing my cock. It was ecstasy. He stroked me a few times while still kissing and tonguing me. He grabbed my ass, I grabbed his shorts and pulled down and took hold of his cock. He shoved mine down and moved to blow me. I said no, picked him up and pushed him against the wall. "I want to fuck you," I said. I reached for the condom I strategically placed in my underwear on the way to his place. Holding him up with one hand, I managed to open the package, suit up and shove my cock in his ass. He raised his legs as high as they could go. His abs flexed beautifully. I kissed his chest and bit his nipples while I pumped his ass. He reached his hand down and grabbed his own cock, pumping it violently as I pumped. I was getting close. "Fuck, fuck. God Matt, your so fucking hot." He started pumping harder. "Oh fuck, I'm coming." I tried to pull him off me and shoot my load on his chest, but he wouldn't have any of it. He held his position and kept stroking. I kept fucking him. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming," he said. His load shot up high and hit my chin and face. I soon followed, shooting my load up his ass. He kissed me again and squeezed my nipples as I came and came.

I pulled him off my cock and kissed him again. "I have to go to work now." "I know," he said. He moved over to the kitchen to get something. He handed me a card with his name and number on it. "Call me," he said. "Sure," I said.

I dressed and went to work with now crumpled shirt and two missing buttons. The girls at work new something had happened but I kept quite about it.