As my Thai boy worships my 9-inch cock (3 hours into the game – he calls me a real trouper!), I am reminiscing on my life growing up as a boy on a farm in rural Canada. It seems like a long way back, but as he so gently strokes me while keeping my hard cock so moist from his saliva, I'm in daydream heaven. This daddy/son play is soooo… exciting!
I always knew I was gay, even though, for many years, I decided I was bi-sexual. I was also a born leader; many less decisive, self-confident guys would follow my lead. Growing up in the village, I always organized the circle jerks in the forest behind the village after school. While I never sucked any of my friends in those early days of adolescent masturbation sessions, a few wanted it, I know. These sessions were interspersed with female breast-licking sessions in the hay loft of the barn – hot, sweet and juicy. While I love cock, I'm also a breast man. You'd think I'd be into ladyboys by now – not really. It's either a real man or a real woman for me; these days, I am more into real men.
Growing up in a rural Canadian farm community just outside Winnipeg was terrific. I would never want it any other way – the freedom, space, familiarity, friends ….. the Catholic part I could have left behind. Despite all the stories you hear about Catholic priests coming on to young altar boys, that was never my experience, nor that of any of my friends. They were mostly drunks and in need of female companionship. Once, the parish priest took us golfing as our annual reward for being good altar boys; one day, we went swimming, and Father Joe told us to change into our swim trunks one by one inside the tent; no fun at all as a few of the older boys had hard cocks all the time and needed some attention. Maybe he kept them for himself, but I don't think so.
Growing up in a sizeable Franco-Manitoban family in a rural farming community was like being surrounded by massive, loving arms. While we were poor, we never went hungry. As we had a small mixed farm, we had fresh veggies over the summer, and the lot was canned and pickled for the winter. Many chickens, with the springtime piglets, fattened over the summer for the kill in the fall. A few milking cows with a bull were shared among local farmers. As a small child, I was mesmerized by the bull being brought into the field as he straddled a few cows, even more so by the horse who did the same thing to our mare, Susie. I can still see that huge horse cock.
My dad was a tall, muscular man. I saw him naked once when I was about 5 or 6 as I entered his bedroom without knocking. I can still visualize his long, lean and muscular body. He smiled at me, not disapproving of my gaze. Mom and Dad had seven kids, typical for a good French-Canadian family at the time – four sons and three daughters. I was the youngest of the boys, so I got many hand-me-down clothes over the years. I liked the smell of my brothers on my clothes. These were early signs.
We got our first television. It was such a joy; that's when I dreamt about being with the right guy. Little Joe from Bonanza was my best; every time he came on screen, I could feel my cock grow with yearning. I had many wet dreams in his honour. And Robin; Batman had his way with him, and I'm sure. I would jerk off many nights of Batman and Robin, Robin worshipping Batman's cock and letting me in on the action.
Growing up in a large family meant we had to share beds. I always shared a bed with my older brothers. They'd leave for Winnipeg one by one, leaving me alone with the next one. Often, they would rub against me in bed. I could feel their hard cocks against me, but besides Pierre, they never took it further. Pierre was about five years older. He left home at 20. From the time he came into my bed, it was more than wet dreams. For about two years, he'd be in my bed. It started one night after he came home from a dance. His girlfriend wouldn't give him what he wanted, and being a bit drunk and all, when he crawled into bed, I would hear him groan. He was playing with himself, and he saw me looking and smiled. I was down on him like a flash – like Robin worshipping Batman's cock. That was the first time I swallowed; well, I tried. That first time, half of his sweet cum came all over my face. He helped me wash it off. I felt loved and protected.
From then on, we had a good relationship; I'd service him a few times a week, and we'd keep quiet. While he liked it, deep down, he was not gay. When he left for Winnipeg, he worked for a while, had fun, eventually got married, and had three kids. We see each other occasionally, but we never talk about it. That's OK; he trained me well in those early days, and I always felt safe with him. I guess, to use the "gay" jargon, he started breeding me in a secure space as none of this traumatized me in the least. I often wonder how many guys of all sexual persuasions were bred early by their older brothers.
High school was difficult; being a jock and not able to engage in sex play with the hockey team was tough. Had a great time in the locker rooms – eye candies, especially in the shower. The locker room smells turned me on. A few guys were into it, as they were the chosen ones to drive the teacher's car, a red Mustang. This teacher would allow these guys to drive his car in return for blow jobs, which he performed. A few good-looking guys were chosen over a three-year high school timeframe. He never chose me, though, not because I wanted to be chosen, as he was rather repulsive.
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Off to university in Winnipeg and new adventures. The University of Winnipeg had it all for me. I joined the rugby team; I liked the hurdles! My roommate was from Alberta, from the black community of Amber Valley. He was on the hockey team. Great body, smooth, beautiful skin. A great smile with a thin moustache. The guys on the floor would get drunk on weekends, did every drug available and entertained the groupies that had a thing for hockey and rugby players. Jimmy and I had many nights entertaining our harem. I was a breast man from early on. I loved (and still love) sucking big women's breasts. Jimmy was an incredible lover. His cock was master, well over 11 inches and thick. God, I dreamed of him inside me so many nights. When I gave my juice to my girlfriend, I'd think of him every time.
Jim and I would do everything together, so it was probably not unusual that we would eventually have sex. This didn't happen very quickly, probably six months after we first met. One night, after smoking some good weed and having quite a few drinks, we started playing and friendly fighting on the bed. We were both in our boxers. As we got into it, I could feel his cock getting hard, and I touched it accidentally, but he didn't react. He let me play with it. It was so crazy. Here's a guy I wanted to be with for six months, and it happened. I went down on him and sucked him. He came in my mouth, so sweet and tasty – a young man's juice is much sweeter. He didn't want to suck me but allowed me to worship his body. He would come to my bed at night to give me his juice. We then started to experiment. He didn't fuck me right away; I had never let a man penetrate me before. But he introduced me to rimming. Wow, what a turn-on. His pussy was so smooth, no hair; I shoved my tongue deep inside his pussy, and he groaned with delight. He loved it, and from that night on, I went from a breast man to a gay rimmer! I couldn't get enough. Eventually, he fucked me. It wasn't easy as he was so big, but with lots of lube and good drugs (I finally found some poppers in a gay bar in the city), he was able to get real deep inside me and fuck me like a crazed horse. When he came inside me, it was heaven. That first year at university was the most magical time for me; so many discoveries at the hands of a great man. Summer came around, and Jimmy returned to Alberta but never returned to university. I heard he had gotten married and now has a few kids. I owe him so much; he put me on the right track. Did I love him? Probably not, as we were both so young and experimenting. He was my Batman!
I worked as a waiter in Winnipeg for the summer. Winnipeg has a charming waterfront with restaurants, bars and places to meet. I wasn't too adventurous that summer, although I'd wander in the bushes along the Red River basin late at night, where I'd meet up with sexy guys. That was my enjoyment over the summer. This being said, it was a crazy queer-bashing area where at least one guy was murdered, and possibly more were thrown in the Red River, floating downstream as random drowning victims. If I saw any suspicious type or a group of rednecks, I'd run like a rabbit. I was always a speedy runner.
Back to university for a few years, nothing as memorable as my first year, and I was still in the closet, being on the rugby team back in the 70s. The gay life in Winnipeg was enjoyable, even though it is a small town. Apparently, it had one of the very first speakeasies, an underground gay establishment in the 1920s. I used to go into Club 654, a private members club in the 70s and decked into my leathers (including a mask) at the Halloween night drag ball at the Sildor Ballroom. The days when the washrooms were always busy! I loved sucking cock in public washrooms, exciting and dangerous. Even the gay bath was exciting for a young newbie like me. Winnipeg was known as one of the very few Canadian cities that didn't have its gay bath raided, as was the case in most other cities across the country. My weekends were spent getting drunk and stoned and picking up men at the Happenings Social Club and Gio's. Most nights, I really can't remember who I was with. Once, I tried to count the number of men I had sex with but lost count after 50!
There was one memorable encounter with a non-binary gender person who saw himself as a healthy spiritual "entity" for his people. This Two-Spirit Ojibway-Cree man by the name of Laurence was my fuck buddy for a few years. We'd go out together at the bars, and if we didn't find anyone else to fuck, we'd come back to my apartment and play. Laurence saw himself as the feminine spirit whenever we had sex. He was a very tall, well-built man with long black hair who always delivered himself to me. Being a rimmer, I would drive him to total ecstasy before penetration, my saliva having wet him considerably with the addition of Vaseline – I can't remember the last time I used Vaseline. Still, at the time, it was my best friend. After Jim, Laurence was my only regular playmate.
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After I finished university, I moved on and went out "west" to Edmonton. With a B.A. and experience in the hospitality industry, I thought I'd be in demand professionally. To my surprise, a B.A. isn't worth much, and everyone has experience in the food and beverage industry, so join the club. I did have one advantage: being Franco-Manitoban, I spoke French (well, a version of French, let's be honest), which opened a few extra doors for me. I landed a job at The Four Seasons, starting in the food and beverage section and working my way up from there.
New scene, new friends and much more of an "open" closet, albeit, still in the closet to my professional acquaintances. The bar scene was wild and full of "new blood' so to speak. Guys from across the country, Alberta was the place to be if you wanted to make money and pursue a professional career. My regular pub was Boots and Saddles, a great hang-out place where you could play a game of pool, enjoy a few drinks, meet up with friends and then head out to the other two dance bars, Limelight and the late-night club Flashback, almost kitty-corner to each other. Had a few regular friends, with whom I fucked with as well – if no one else seemed available. One guy in the group was a very well-built, tanned-skinned guy from Ontario. I wanted to suck his cock one night, but he gently pushed me away. After seeing him several times at the clubs, I realized he was into Asian guys. That didn't interest me at the time, but now, well, that's for later! The old Colonial Hotel in downtown Edmonton was always a good place to have sex and the regular cruising spots along the Edmonton River valley. The wooded area next to the Glenora Club was always busy every night of the week.
Edmonton in the 80s - crazy sex, drugs and parties and then, the "Gay Disease". I remember hearing about a guy who had returned from Mexico and was diagnosed with A.I.D.s. I knew the guy. I had sex with him once but never fucked, oral sex only. I saw him on a bus one night and started chatting with him. He told me I was very brave, as others had shunned him. He died a few years after that.
I always prefer bareback sex, either giving or receiving. During those scary times, my fucking days were over as I didn't like condoms. It's just not the same. I still played a lot, but I was very careful.
I worked hard at my job and became a concierge after taking many courses in the hospitality industry. I eventually became a Certified Hotel Concierge (C.H.C.), which allowed me to travel and look for new opportunities. Mexico, here I come!
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I decided to hitchhike down to Mexico. It was a wild ride. Had some exciting adventures, my most memorable with a San Francisco cop, who picked me up somewhere in Oregon. He was a crazy driver and flirted with me as we went through various small towns. We stopped overnight in a small town and took a room in a roadside hotel. As I was having a shower, he came into the bathroom and looked at me in the shower. I had a tremendous hard-on. Nothing happened. As we went to our separate beds, he started moaning and stroking himself and ordered me to suck his hard cock, which I did. I then rimmed him; this was the first time someone had done this to him. He came while I was rimming him, after which I had to lick his cum from his chest and suck the after cum clean as his cock was getting soft. I continued to suck his soft cock for a while. He then told me to return to my bed like a good boy. He'd call me if he wanted more. He slept well as I jerked off in my bed.
He let me off at the San Francisco Bridge. I walked into this gay garden, where I booked into the YMCA. There was no great adventure there, but I enjoyed multiple glory holes across the city!
I eventually got to Mexico City, where I spent a few months learning Spanish to add a third language to my Concierge repertoire. I spent the first two weeks in a cheap hotel near El Zocalo, Mexico City's central park; I had a few adventures there. I also went to a gay sauna close by. Wow, those Latino guys are scorching. Took part in some hot group sex sessions in the steam room.
My Spanish classes were in La Zona Rosa district, which also had a gay dance bar, packed every weekend as people danced to Memories (Cats) and Pat Benetar's entire repertoire. I met my first Brazilian on the dance floor. He took me to his place and fucked me hard. His cock was huge, at least 12 inches. The following day, he gave me his love juice as a coffee sweetener for breakfast. I had sex with him a few times over those three months. He opened me up, as I had not had such a big cock inside me since Jimmy back in Winnipeg. And with him, I went bareback despite the risk.
While in Mexico, I met a group of guys who wanted to improve their English, so we exchanged language lessons for a place to crash for a few months. Five gay guys lived together and shared this large bed to sleep in. The camaraderie of living together and sharing one bed was a new experience for me. They were all very intimate with each other, but no sex. Culturally, North Americans and most Europeans are too individualistic, leading separate lives. Communal living is not widespread. This group of guys shared their lives, their joy and their hardships. We shared meals, spent most evenings speaking in English and the weekends dancing at the club. It was a humbling and lovely experience.
I had a few Latin lovers along the way as I continued my journey in Central and South America. Puerto Allegro, Brazil. Perhaps my most memorable experience. I went to this bar, which is known to be gay-friendly. People weren't openly gay, with minimal physical sexual flirtations. The bar owner was a former Brazilian football player, probably in his early 40s. He and I made eye contact all night. As we got close to closing time and the other patrons were leaving, I stayed behind, nursing my drink. He locked up the bar downstairs and came back up. He had a drink with me, sitting in a chair at the following table with his legs open. He had a Brazilian football shirt, short rugby shorts, sturdy, hairy legs, and an ever-growing basket of goods. After I downed my drink, I went toward him, went down on my knees, kissed his legs and bit his cock through his shorts. I'm getting such a hard-on as I'm writing this! His cock was getting hard. I pulled down his shorts, sucked his balls and went down on him. When he came in my mouth, it was like a whole can of milk shouting down my throat: warm milk. I could have sucked him all night. All I wanted was to be on my knees, serving him. I think if he had asked, he could have locked me up in the back room, taken me out every night after the bar closed and repeated this ecstasy over and over again. Unfortunately, it was a one-night stand, but it kept me going for years.
Then I flew back to Canada but that Brazilian "moment" was a defining moment; one of those memories that will be with me forever.
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Back in Canada, I moved to Vancouver, Canada's Pacific gay Mecca. I worked in the hotel industry and met many guys and a few relationships. Mario was my first long-term relationship. He was of Italian descent and embodied that Latino look that I liked so much. I was never into "white" guys unless they had big cocks. I always preferred black or Latino guys, a bit hairy, but they need to have a clean, smooth ass; a must for a gay rimmer! Mario had these attributes, and our relationship lasted for a few years.
While in Vancouver, I met up with an old friend. He was one of a kind, straight and a real anti-establishment type. He was a drug pusher and needed someone to take him to the gay bars where he would sell mostly coke and ice, with some ecstasy in between. Davie Street Village is a symbol of the gay world in Vancouver and has been for many decades. Club life was crazy in the 80s and 90s with such places as the all-night Fresgo Inn, the Gandydancer, the Shaggy Horse, Numbers, Celebrities followed by the Odyssey, the Fountainhead, the Oasis, the Pumpjack, 1181 and many more. I can't keep track of them, and I've been to all of them with Marc and his bag of goodies. Many of these clubs have changed names and locations, but the Davie Street gay strip was the place to be. After a while, the club bouncers would let us in free of charge, bypassing line-ups as we were peddling necessary accoutrements.
Marc was a very special friend. He was straight, and we never experimented together. As an outspoken anti-establishment advocate, his pearls of wisdom were often very harsh and delivered aggressively. This made some people scared of him, as he also had a Rasputin, messianic look. But I found him mesmerizing. Marc died a broken, lonely man, but his thought process never changed. He was a good friend.
These years in Vancouver were spent high on coke and ecstasy, enjoying group sex parties almost every weekend. That's when I stopped counting the number of fuck friends. I was a welcome addition to any party as I came with some well-sought-after goodies, and being a master rimmer, I was very popular. The deeper I could get my tongue into a smooth guy's ass, the crazier I became! I did rim quite a few smooth Asian guys as Vancouver was the leading Canadian city for Asians – mostly Filipinos.
Somehow, I survived the gay 90s, managed to keep my job (with advancements) and never got sick. A quadruple blessing – great sex, high drugs, great job and good health. Others were not so lucky.
By then, I was already in my 50s; while I still had a great body and could keep up with the best of them, younger guys didn't find me that attractive. Unless they were into daddies, that's when I discovered my true calling – a gay daddy rimmer! I never saw myself as a daddy, but I became one. My first son/daddy experience was with a Québécois bartender in Vancouver. As soon as I walked into the bar, his eyes were fixated on me. I knew he wanted me. He gave me a drink across the bar, and we started to chat in French. He told me I was a sexy, foxy-looking daddy. I went home with him that night, where we made sweet son/daddy love. He started calling me daddy in this little boy's voice "Papa, papa, papi…." And it drove me crazy. I came inside him, delivering a hefty load, as he moaned and asked more from his daddy. I was with him for over a year until he returned to La Belle Province. I went to visit a few times. The Montreal Village is Canada's eastern gay Mecca. Bears/Daddies like me are much in demand.
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I had another memorable encounter while on a business trip to Germany; there were two encounters. The first was when I met a son/daddy couple in a sauna in Berlin. They were Italian. The daddy was in his 60s, and the son was in his late 20s. You could sense a deep love between them. The older man had left his wife and two kids to be with this new lover, which was a tough decision, I'm sure, in a traditional Italian family. While we were chatting, his boy was chatting to his daddy in Italian, eyeing me simultaneously. He had asked his daddy if it was OK to have a 3some with me as the boy wanted me to fuck him while his daddy watched. We went into a private room, and I fucked the boy from behind while he kissed his daddy. It was so sexy and lovely at the same time.
My other encounter was in Frankfurt. I went into a bear club. I was probably the skinniest guy there except for this tall, bearded, muscular German guy. He came over to me, and we started chatting. He was in the German army. His name was Rubin. He was 35 years of age. We went back to my hotel and made love. I worshipped his body, every inch of his big coke, licking his big onion size balls and then burying myself into his ass. What a night. I think he came three times in my mouth. I nursed my ejaculation to the verge of an explosion at least three times with one spectacular release. I tried to find him many times on gay meet-up sites but could never find him. He's another one who could have asked me for anything. I would be his daddy any day.
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As I advanced in my job to become a certified hotel concierge (C.H.C.), this allowed me to explore opportunities in other parts of the world. Asia seemed like the right place to hang my hat. I landed in Thailand, the land of smiles and the Asian gay Mecca. The sex industry in Thailand is part of the economy and way of life for many Thai men and women. Farangs from all over the world flock to Thailand for sex. It's part of the Thai identity. So I had to find my place. Work by day, play by night!
Thailand makes me think of the 1980s one-hit-wonder new-wave tune "One Night In Bangkok" by Murray Head:
One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil working next to me
There is a very versatile and varied sexual menu to choose from.
Working for the Dusit Thani Hotel chain in Thailand was great fun. My Thai became increasingly good, as many customers were high society – Hi So- Thais, real snobs. The nouveau riche type thinking their shit didn't stink. But some were quite nice. Hi So Thai ladies are into kinky sex in a big way. There's a flourishing sex market for Jamaican men in Thailand to service Thai women, and the Dusit Thani hotels were the meeting place for many of these encounters. And there is usually one well-hung, muscular Jamaican guy in groups of three to five Thai women. I was, of course, very discrete on these occasions, only wishing that these women would send these guys over so I could have the leftovers. It did happen only once with Rodney, this beautiful, silky black Jamaican guy with a hard muscular body and a cock the size of a horse. With a lot of lube, he fucked me hard and long. His load spilt all over my ass; I oozed his cum for hours after he came. I didn't want to flush it out for days; it felt so good. I had a long and satisfying career with Hi So Thai ladies and their Jamaican studs.
Straight and curious guys spend most of their time on Soi Cowboy or Pan Pong, enjoying the bar girls and the ladyboys. My gay radar took me to Silom by night, starting on Soi 4. My favourite bar was the Telephone Bar; there were telephones at each table back in the day so guys could call each other. While those days are gone, it's still one of the most popular hang-outs, especially for daddy's looking for Thai boys. By 11:30, everyone makes their way to the DJ to enjoy the drag queen show and then start cruising in one of Bangkok's many gay dance clubs. Onward to the most popular gay dance bar in Bangkok, G.O.D. That's where you get one of the most visual, sexual displays of Thai manhood in all its' glory. The dancers are mesmerizing, such smooth, muscular bodies. I've spent many a weekend enjoying the shows, high on ecstasy.
My first encounter with a Thai boy was not so memorable. He was cute but too young and so very possessive. He declared his love for me only after one night; it was sweet, but at that stage, I was suspicious of Thai money boys, and he was one of them. He wanted his sugar daddy right away, and while he had a great body, a good fucker and a beautiful, tasty pussy, I knew I could find someone more mature and honest.
Wanting to stay away from Thai men for a while, I found that Bangkok was a sex getaway for men from all over the world, so I dived right in. Had a few memorable experiences with men looking for daddies. This guy from Israel was memorable. At DJ, he kept looking at me; he was gorgeous. An Israeli army soldier. As long as we stayed away from discussing politics, me being a pro-Palestinian advocate, we were OK, and in the heat of the night, politics was the last thing on my mind. He was in Thailand alone; his Israeli daddy stayed home to care for the dog! I wanted him to fuck me, but he was so big. He came all over my face, an incredible load, tasty and pasty. Another night, I met an Indian man. Indian men are so sexy, dark and muscular with beautiful smiles. His daddy had just died; an Australian man in his early sixties dropped dead of a heart attack. I was in his strong arms all night. He fucked me, licked my ass and kissed me all over. I can still see his beautiful face. Then an Arab guy from Dubai, we fucked all night.
I did have a Thai fuck buddy for a while. He loved oral sex and would spend hours deep-throating my hard cock. With him, I discovered Ice; with that drug, we could go for hours. He'd call me during the day, and we went to a cheap, sleazy hotel where we'd play for a few hours. On weekends, we'd have erotic cock sucking sessions for hours. He was a pro.
I usually left Tun's place at around 11:30 after a few hours of ecstatic cock worshipping on his part. We usually terminated these sessions once he came. I was able to hold my load for later. At midnight, I'd show up at the Tawan Muscle Bar on Soi 6 in Silom, a Bangkok institution. Wow, Thai muscles are big and bigger. The guys were really friendly, putting on exotic, hardcore shows. I took a few of these guys home with me. Yes, I paid for sex with these guys, but it was worth it. It was very reasonable – a hundred bucks for 2 hours. Usually, we'd go to the Malaysia Hotel, a gay hang-out. I'm sure every second room had a show going on! Many of these guys are straight but hard fuckers. Since I like real men, I was never disappointed. Come to think of it, there are no straight men, really.
Any guy who romps in bed, top or bottom, loves gay sex. There's nothing like it. I go crazy over so-called straight guys who come to gay bars, saunas or outdoor cruising spots, looking for a blow-job or to fuck someone. They get what their girlfriend or wife won't give them – hardcore sex. Marlon Brando has his fun with most of his male actor friends. As one biographer said, "he'd fuck anything, even an air conditioner, if he could". Paul Newman was one of his conquests. Those blue eyes travelled the entire spectrum – oh yes, Joanne! Rock Hudson was only the tip of the iceberg.
My boyfriend, Chom, used to be a dancer at this bar; he's all muscle with one of the most gorgeous bubble butts in Bangkok! We met one night at DJ. The place was packed as usual. I had quite a few drinks and was pleasantly drunk. I was chatting with this Thai guy, who pushed me toward this other guy standing against the back wall. Somehow, I found myself directly behind him. I rubbed against him and put my arms around him to feel his hard body. A Thai man in his late 30s with a hard body, bubble ass and sensual smell. He let me hold him tight, then turned around and kissed me. Such a great kisser, a beautiful smile, and a gorgeous face. He took me home to his apartment.
We made love that night over and over again, fucking each other, me also adoring his beautiful, tasty pussy. I had to work on Monday, so I couldn't stay after breakfast on Saturday morning. He made me breakfast and gave me a blow job at the table. When I left, I gave him a longing look from the elevator, and so did he.
He was in my mind all day, all week. When I got to my place, I emailed him to say I had a wonderful time and wanted to see him again as soon as possible. He answered right away and wanted the same. We've been together for over 15 years and love each other as much as when we first met. Of course, we've had our differences and a few fights, but we always made up. After a few years in the relationship, we decided we wanted to start having threesomes as long as the other guy was Farang. My baby doesn't want to see me have sex with another Thai guy. I complied as best I could, having relapsed a few times. Mind you, he had sex with other Farang guys without me, so what's right for the goose is good for the gander, so to speak – in this case, we're both ganders! We used to bring Farang guys home almost every weekend for a while – an Italian guy with humongous balls and a Cuban muscle man who fucked us both. During threesomes, my favourite position is getting my tongue on my baby's pussy when the other guy is fucking him. Since we're into bareback sex, I love to lick my baby's pussy when the other guys' cream pie starts oozing out. Then I go in deep fucking him straight after – the extra cum makes penetration easier, My baby is very tight, but as this is the second round, I can move in much more relaxed and very deep. My baby groans with so much love and delight. I'm getting a hard-on …again! And we have this wonderful son/daddy relationship, which grows stronger as we get older.
I recently read a blog by Alexander Cheves, where he gives the reader 29 things you should look for in a daddy. I liked the caretaker persona. "Caretakers are the salt of the earth. These are the people who take you home when you're drunk when they could stay out having a good time. A good daddy is a caretaker: his natural impulse is to watch over you and check in regularly to ensure you're doing OK."
That's the way I feel toward Chom. Every time we'd go out on weekends, and he would come home really drunk, he wants his daddy to breed him hard, to which I always complied. We then fall asleep in the cup position as I stay hard inside of him all night - Viagra is my friend!
We've shared an apartment in Bangkok for close to 10 years. Like the Mexicans I spent time with back then, the Thais are a very sociable group. Our "group" consisted of five Thai men and three Farang: a Brit, a Belgian, and myself. All three of us had loving relationships with Thai men. We explored Thailand's beauty as a group—Phi Phi, Ko Samui, Pattaya, Koh Chang, Krabi, Phuket, and the forest areas of Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son.
Chom and I like hiking, and we've visited many national parks in Thailand. Hiking is always exhilarating, but the outdoor sex in a natural setting is even better; it's our reward after a long hike. Chom is an avid video taker; he has sex tapes of us making love all over Thailand and in bed for over 15 years, and the taping is still going strong. We can play these tapes whenever we're apart for an extended period, and it's an instant turn-on. For me, I can fantasize about other guys, but when I come close to ejaculating, I always think of Chom. I know he feels the same way. He always tells me he feels safe and comfortable with me, as deep down, he's very shy, a quality I love about him. I want to protect him. Even when we have 3somes, he's close. After the sex, he wants me to hold him close, allowing him to sleep in my arms. On many occasions, the 3rd guy in bed with us was very envious of our closeness.
It's funny how we come back to our early roots. Chom and I were raised on a small farm and never quite got that out of our system. We bought a small piece of land (not too far from Bangkok and the occasional pleasure trip!), where we built a traditional Thai house with an outdoor shower facing the jungle. The house has the necessary toys, including a leather swing I've always wanted. Chom loves to garden, raise, and catch fish, so a small pond is just off our balcony. It's a very isolated place where we regularly make love on the balcony. Our friends from Bangkok visit on weekends and we party all night. I am happy; I have found my soul mate.
I'm now in my mid-60s, Chom just turned 50. He's still strong, muscular, and hard. He's a real fuck machine, and we fuck each other almost every day. I have found deep love in his strong embrace. May the next 20 years be as good?
