The End.

April 18, 2007

Like many others I have chosen to end my blog. I have really enjoyed writing it and lets just say that as I have been writing it it has provided much mental stimulation that has aided my physical stimulation. This blog has not only helped me to explore my sexuality, but also become happy with it and I am. It has served it’s purpose.

Thank you to everyone who has contributed. I wish you all well.


April 5, 2007

I was walking through town today, it’s Easter holidays, chavs were out. Have you seen chavs? Skinheads. Hands down their tracksuit bottoms, spitting on the floor, they have attitudes along the lines of the fact that they couldnt give a shit about anyone. Probably got ASBO’s. Annoying to everyone. Fuckin’ hot to me.

There was this group of Chav’s all about 18/19 years old, skinheads, fuckin attitude, had a few cans on them drinking, causing trouble. I instantly stood hard. In the heat of the day I was imagining these chavs coming up to me, making me their submissive slave, making me their dirty little hole to be used for their pleasure. My mind was racing. I was imagining these chavs pissing all over me, marking their territory. These lads, as far as they were concerned were not gay.. they just hated the fact that I was staring at them and thought that I deserved to be taught a lesson…

Here I am walking through an alleyway to get home. Jumped by chavs. A punch in my stomach winds me and knocks me down. These lads are hot but I am in pain. These lads gob on me.. my face was covered in their spit, it was a turn on. I wanted more from them. I look towards the leader and he shouted, ‘he loves it, this fuckin’ little poof loves it’. ‘Will you love my nine inch cock up your ass?’ I probably wouldnt because it would be painful. His mates looked at him disapprovingly, ‘what you talking about?’ Chav the leader responded, ‘this lad needs to be taught a lesson and I havent had it in a while’. He takes out his cock as he tells me to strip. I didnt. I got a punch in the face for that and a bleeding nose. It was damn painful. I wasnt falling for that again. I was shaking. I was in fear. They were hot but I wanted home. Two lads ripped my t-shirt from me as the lad in charge pissed over my chest. It smelt bad. Strangely it turned me on. He moved closer and told me to open my mouth as he placed his foot on my balls and pushed hard. The pain was too much, my jaw dropped. He pissed in my mouth. He then shoved his nine inch cock in my mouth. It was covered in cheese.. dirty little chav, no matter how dirty I thought he was, he was in control. He told me to lick off his cheese. It was tasty to me and he realised I was getting hard. “This poof is getting turned on, lets show him lads’. He quickly took his cock out of my mouth and grabbed me and turned me over. Three lads grabbed my shorts and pulled them down. The main guy forced his cock in my ass, no lube. Pain. He pushed in and I screamed. Fuck I wanted him but it was painful. He push his cock deep into me, raw, i feel sheer pain. As he pushed close I could smell the sweat on his body. It was a turn on. He started fucking me hard, raping me. I wanted him. I wanted his cum up my ass.. I wanted all of their cum up my ass.. I wanted to be their whore….

The light dazzled and I snapped out of my trance like state. I was on a bench. My shorts were wet with pre-cum, my dick was hard.. shit I had to get home and wank and that I did!

‘Black men’ see hits to my blog soar!

March 28, 2007

I am intrigued, its seems as though there are many out there who have the same interests / fantasies as I do… the black man! Since my post entitled, ‘The things I could do with a black man’ it seems that hundreds of people who have used the search term ‘gay black men’ have found their way to my blog.

So, I would like to know… what is it that interests you about black men?

I dont quite know what does it for me, I love ‘thug-ish’ black men, the time who would force me down a dark alley, pull their jeans down and push my head into their dick as they force me to take every inch of their cock in my mouth, using my mouth for their pleasure. This scenario would end up along the lines of this black man forcing me to bend over, taking me up the ass and riding me hard, the only way a black man can 😉

Ok, now I am hard! This is my fantasy…. whoever you are, checking out this blog because you search for ‘gay black men’ what turns you on about black men… perhaps you are a gay black man yourself… PLEASE leave a comment?

I hope to hear from someone!

Ghana’s secret gay community

March 14, 2007

Take a look at this link:

To be honest I am greatly saddened. Our history lessons at school tell us of the struggle of women to gain their equal place in society, their vote, their meaning, their worth. Hollywood films give an all too realistic account of the apartheid, the white domination of the black man, human beings treated as property, as slaves purely because of the colour of their skin.

However, today we hit the 21st Century, year 2007 and all around the World homosexual individuals live in fear, they live as a secret undergound society who remain in fear of being beaten, neglected and unloved because of the lifestyle that they are born with. At the same time the outside world, the ‘straight’ ones look on and view in disgust at the lifestyle that theys ‘gays’ have ‘chosen’.

This divide is huge, this naivety is incredible and in within this silence there are screams of pain.

When will this stupidity end? When will these individuals, just like myself, be allowed to live without fear, judgement and prejudice?

When will our history lessons recount the freedom and liberation of homosexuals that has taken place, allowing young people to discover who and what they are without fear?

And, more importantly, what role will I play in the pursuit of this freedom?

At what point did you choose the colour of your eyes?

March 7, 2007

Was it in the womb? Did you hear a voice, or was it a feeling? Where colours put before you and even though you didnt know their names you selected one and that was the colour of your eyes? Or was it when you came out of the womb? Did the colour of your eyes turn the same colour of the first thing that you looked at?

Of course they fucking didnt. You didnt choose the colour of your eyes, it, well, just happened.

At what point did you choose to fancy the opposite sex? I will not write out a ridiculous set of possibilities again. The point is you didnt. You did not make a decision to fancy the opposite sex, to get turned on by them, to want to jump into bed with any hot individual of the opposite sex that your eyes fell upon. That didnt happen, it wasn’t a choice.

Homosexuaity and bisexuality is exactly the same deal. I never woke up one day and thought, hell, you know what I am going to make my life incredibly painful and difficult and have a passion for both men and women.

And painful it is. The other morning I woke up screaming out to a ‘God’. I asked him why.

Sometimes I just want to be normal. I want to know what it is like to find a woman attractive, to be with her, to be her man, to give her children and to share my world with her. I want to know what this feels like. I don’t. I doubt that I ever will.

Right now I see a girl, she is beautiful, I want to kiss her, I want to hold her. I turn around and a man stands before me, his arms are strong, his body speaks of boldness and strength and he has a damn cheeky grin. I want him too.

Do you think that I made a decision for my life to be like that? Of course not!

If a decision was thrown your way, there are two possible outcomes. The first, the rest of your life is amazing. The second, your life is sheer hell. Do you really need time to think about which option you will take. No.

Look in the mirror, the colour of your eyes will remain the same. They wont change. It is the same with my sexuality. I am stuck with it.

I sincerely wish that I wasnt.

Sexy female knickers.

February 27, 2007

Image this. Sexy women’s lingerie. Short. Pink. Knickers. lacey. curvy ass. close to the body. Real sexy.

Now, imagine those on a guy? Is that picture as still atractive?

I dont know why but I woke up this morning wanting to wear the aforementioned attire. To know what is like to have pink, lacey, knickers, hugging my ass, as you see my abs over the top. This may be strange but, to me, it was fuckin’ horny.

Then I thought more…

Stockings. Suspenders. A baby doll set. Me dressed in the finest and sexiest female clothing.

But that was not the end of the thought….

Me, wearing all this and then a hot lad, a typical rough lad, fucking my ass, whilst I am wearing this, calling out for me to be his slut as he pounds me ass. He is in control. He likes the sexy clothing. It turns him on. He is knows that he is the dominant, I am submissive and he pounds and pounds. He fucks hard. I feel every inch of him as he pounds deeper. I wince. I wince both in pain and pleasure but I long for this stud to go deeper, far deeper. I want all of him. I want to feel his cum deep within me. He races. Faster. Faster. He moans, ‘yes bitch’. I start to groan. His cock is giving me pleasure. He moans out load as he cums deep within me and I long for it to remain there.

That was my thought this morning, I subsequently had a wank and then endured the rest of my business-like day.

Anyone else have exciting fantasies? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

The things I could do with a black man!

February 18, 2007

Take a look at this link now:


I am not being racist in any way whatsoever but, black men turn me on so so much both physically and mentally. God I look at the picture above and go weak at the knees, it is nothing to do with how damn fit his body is or the rumour that black men are hung like a horse and I wouldnt mind riding a big fat cock but, black man are amazing.

I dont know why this is the case, something about black men is just amazing. This will probably be so sterotypical but I love a black man’s mind. I love the intellect of a black man, I love black man who are passionate about their history, who have something to say, and I love the thought of being wrapped in the arms of a black guy. To be a black man’s man. Wow!

I want to write heaps in this blog about black man, I cant, words fail me. All I can say is that I would love to date a black guy and see what happens.

Damn, I need to go and wank!

**EDIT: I have just looked at the picture again and I have just re-read this post and it doesnt do any justice to the way that I feel. Seriously. I dont know what it is, I dont know why it is that I cannot convey how I feel but the thought of being wrapped up in bed with a black guy just totally drives me crazy. The thought of kissing sexy black lips, holding a sexy black body! Any black guys reading this? Give me a shout.. I will be on the next plane, train or automobile ;-)**

**Edit again: Just looked at his picture again. God I would be at him like I would be a child with a wrapped Christmas present. All over him.**

I am not a stranger to God.

February 15, 2007

I get back from a few days of being away, working away the otherside of the Country. I come back and log on in order to see whats going on in my ‘secret space’, fluid sexuality, my blog, see if there are any responses, e-mails or new comments. I check my e-mail and then, all of a sudden, REALLY pissed off.

I had an e-mail off someone, who chose to remain anonymous but was explaining how they have read through my blog and they strongly believe that I need God. How damn rude is that!? I know that, on the one had this could be seen as a caring and compassionate gesture but on the other they have no fucking right. Just the idea that someone has been searching online looking at blogs and then finds mine and decides to e-mail me to tell me that I need God, it makes my blood boil! Or, even worse, what if they were searching the internet purposely to find us poor souls who need God and then they, arrogantly e-mail them all to tell them so.

The deal is that I am not a stranger to God, whether that is a Christian God, Buddhist or the God of the pixies who live at the bottom of my garden I am not sure but the point is that I do believe in ‘something’. I have even been listening to religious songs and well, enjoying them. Every time I have listened to songs or during the times recently that I have prayed I have felt calm, I have felt like this is a part of my life, as well as my sexuality that I am figuring out. I have felt the response from whoever or whatever to be ‘It’s okay, lets take this step by step’. And I am.

I would never pull two friends together who hardly know each other and say… ‘You guys need to spend more time together’ and then basically force them to do this. If they are not compatable then they are not compatable. Friendships grow and if these two friends who hardly know each other chose to spend some time together and their relationship grows and suddenly they are best mates. Awesome. But, allow it to happen naturally.

Whoever sent me that e-mail, I doubt that you will ever come back to this blog again. The chances are you will go back to your little Christian group and explain about the horrors of the ungodly that you have seen on the internet. All I can say is that Jesus spent time with the sinners, the sluts, the whores, the murderers, the drunks, the lowest of the low. From what I read in my bible is that he never forced himself on people but HE encouraged people to come to HIM when he was ready. The alternative was that when people realised that Jesus was real, THEY shouted out to HIM. I don’t recall any account of nosey, busy body, bible bashing religious fanatics getting in the way.

So, in conclusion… FUCK OFF!

Healing the inner man

February 7, 2007

In this blog I often write about blokes, how I feel about them, what they mean to me and sexual encounters that I would like to have with them. Every time I have had a sexual encounter with a bloke, afterwards I have always felt like I didnt really get much out of it. I see blokes as strength and security which is something that I need in my life, however, recently I have been thinking about women.

Here is the deal. When I was younger I was bullied at school, bullied quite badly. I was never good at any sport and so I never played it this naturally left me feeling like I was not in the ‘in crowd’. In my head a division occurred, a them i.e. ‘the boys’ and then ‘me’. This is a huge issue in my head, it is a seriously big deal for me. I probably see myself as a ‘non-entity’. I exist. This was further added when I was in a relationship with a girl who never looked up to me, she never respected me, she never showed her love to me, it was a hard and painful relationship for us both and it ended. This further made me feel inferior as a guy. I didn’t feel that I could be that source of strength, love and protection. I wanted to be the guy that a woman looked up too, wanted to be with, wanted to hold and love ‘her man’. I have never felt like this and so, in a way, I suppose I have looked for it in a guy. I have looked towards a guy being my strength, my love, my support, my anchor, in some way me being the girls role – although I am not camp at all.

Over the past few days I have honestly pined for a woman, for a girl. I have been around some mates who have girlfriends and the way that these girls look up to them and respect them is incredible, the way that these girls want to be with them is awesome and that’s a position that I find myself wanting to be in. It is almost a ‘friends’ type scenario. In fact the lives of the TV programme, ‘Friends’ is the lifestyle that I would love to have all round, mates who hang out together and relationships with girls that are awesome… I know… it is simply a TV programme.

I don’t want to resign myself to never giving myself to a woman because in my own head I have defined myself as being bisexual. In any case, whether it is a relationship with a man or a woman I look back and see how this inferior feeling of being a lower class of male has affected me and I want that to change both for myself and for any relationship that I encounter.

I go to the gym and see people who I see as being ‘blokes’ and I look in awe and wonder and hence the attraction but if I was ever in a sexual situation with them I think I would wonder afterwards why I did it. I think I am more attracted to what I would like to be rather than who I want in bed and I know that I need to start seeing myself, me, as a bloke… sounds confusing.

I am not saying that I am not bisexual but these are thoughts in my head that come together as I look back over my life and I realise that I need to focus on healing the inner man.. whatever the hell that is!

On your knees boy… yes, sir

February 2, 2007

There is something about a master / slave scenario that completely, utterly and foolishly turns me on. In fact, it not only turns me on it literally makes me go wet at the thought.

In this fantasy this is what happens…

I walk into a room, the door is shut beind me. As soon as I walk in and at the sound of the door shut my life is not my own the purpose of my existance is purely to please my master and this is my single aim.

I stand there as my master gropes my penis. I am still fully clothed. He is fondling me. The world is shut out and I am here, completely for his pleasure, completely for his use. After some time of groping my master pulls out his cock. His cock is beautiful to me, his rod is strong, it is mighty and it is a tool which I can use to make my master feel like he is the most important person in my world, in THE world.

My master merely has to pull out his cock and I know what my role is. I drop to my knees and eagerly take his cock in my mouth, all of it. I so desire to have the taste of his cum in my mouth. My master’s cum is like honey, it is precious, it is sweet, it is something I want to taste again and again if only I was fortunate enough to recieve this. I start to take his cock in and out of my mouth, in and out and I hear him moan. The sound of my master moaning makes me go weak at my knees. The very fact that my master moans because of something that I have done to him, for him, is a humbling experience. My master grabs my head and pushes himself deep into me, I feel him going further and further. I feel like I don’t deserve his honour, why should he chose me, why would he allow ME to please HIM. It doesnt seem right. I taste his cock, I feel it going back and forth and I feel as if I am in another world, a moment of ecstacy that no drug could induce. As I remain in this heaven I dream, I dream of everything that I would love from my master and I give him a glance that signals my desire to speak to him; “What boy?”

“Sir, I know that I dont deserve even to ask this but Sir is there any chance that I could have your piss? I want to feel your warmth, I want to taste that which is so intimate to you. I want to bathe in something of you that is so beautiful. Please sir?”

“How badly do you want it boy?”

“Oh Sir.” I am not sure that my master would ever understand how humbled I feel when I taste his urine. To some this may seem dirty to me it is as though some inner part of him that no-one else has, he has given to me. “Sir, please sir, I would do anything. I know that I sound pathetic Sir but your urine is heavenly to me. I would be so grateful master.”

With that he lets me head go and I am face to face with his cock. A warm golden stream comes out of his cock, it hits my face and I feel as if I could cum there and then. I open my mouth and his golden juice rushes inside of me, my body craves it like it would crave alcohol. I feel so honoured. So humbled. So unworthy.

After the piss stops I get to work on his cock. My master has given me his urine, I didnt deserve that and now I focus on pleasing him. I manipulate his cock, his glands and he moans with other pleasure. I suck his cock, I lick his balls, I lick the head of his cock and take him in deep, to the shaft. I want to please this man. I feel his body start to pulsate as if the damn was about to burst and I work harder, his cock is more sensitive and he lets out moans of pleasure. I am pleasing my master, I could cum myself. All of a sudden his body twists and turns in pleasure and his hot, sticky, creamy cum hits the back of my throat. I want it. I want it all and wait for it all to come out, not missing a drop. I then lick his cock ensuring that I have every last bit, that I taste him.

My Master sits down looking content. I am feeling content. I know that my place is never to reach orgasm, my place is never to cum. I don’t deserve that. My role is to please my master in whatever way he desired and, with that knowledge I am so happy.

I love this fantasy, but is it just a fantasy?