Just not feeling TIM TALES anymore

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BLACK MUSCLE WORSHIP

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To my Middle Eastern brohters

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To my brothers in Libya and Egypt: FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT!

(And stop covering up those fine, brown women...booyah!!)

Allure, Desire and the African-American Model

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I came close to working with the photographer JD Dragan but our schedules never meshed.

Here he will participate in a revealing discussion photographer Ripp Bowman and the models who inspire them. This evening will offer a revealing window into the world of idealized beauty and the fascinating, multi-faceted psycho/sexual relationship between photographers and the black models who inspire them. You won't want to miss this thought provoking and entertaining discussion. Moderated by Steven Broadway
Wednesday, February 23: 6:00pm - 8:30pm


Admission $15 (includes)



For more information click:
JD Photography

Allure, Desire and the African-American Model

I LIKEY FEEDBACK

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On the Mexican beach (video)

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This is me on the beach in Puerto Vallarta. The retard screaming in the background ("Now I see you! Now I see you!") is happy because he finally figured out to just press the Start button.

SEX FROM THE BEACH (Deus ex machina)

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Continued from “Exxxstasy”:

The booty call that rescued my dick from my insatiable good fuck buddy was from a girl I was talking to on the beach before my friend showed up. I gave her my number but, y’know, that means squat - no, less than squat - and I certainly didn’t expect to hear anything back so I surprised to get the back-to-back text msgs. Guess I didn’t respond fast enough - if only she knew! - because then she called.

Her pussy suddenly felt like a boy’s mouth

Imagine that, an actual phone call! After being on Gayromeo for a year I was a little startled by a live call instead of fielding (and blocking) endless text msgs (across the Pond they call them SMS which probably should stand for “some more shit”).

Not down with the whole sex-in-public-places fetish. But as a self-respecting man I could not pass up on getting laid

She met me outside of Plaza Coracol and we walked back to her place only her roommate was home and we couldn’t actually go into her place. I’m thinking, Then why the fuck did you call--? But I didn’t have to think for long. “We can do it down here,” she suggested. Outside?…neighbors?! “Sí, sí, no one can see us over there,” and she led me around the corner to an unfinished concrete terrace. There was only one apartment on this side of the building and its lights were on; I was horny, yes, but feeling…hesitant. Not down with the whole sex-in-public-places fetish. Unless I’m putting on a sex show. Hello! But as a self-respecting man I could not pass up on getting laid just because we had to do it outside.

We fucked doggy-style on the concrete next to the garbage cans - urban nature! - and it was probably appropriate since the bitch didn’t blow me. But, oomph, was she wet. Several things are whispering in the back of my mind: What if someone comes…what if the curtains move…maybe some jerk is capturing this on camera phone…why wasn’t garbage pick-up yesterday???? My tired dick got its fourth wind real quick…no thanks to her non blow-job. We were like dogs humping in the alley. She came without announcing it save for the quivering spasms of her body. Her pussy suddenly felt like a boy’s mouth. Omg, does that make me a fag?! Me? I didn’t bother with trying to cum and it was a good thing, too. No sooner had I tossed the condom and we straightened ourselves out did a man round the corner. He halted, visibly startled to see people. “Buenas noches,” we all exchanged and I made a show of having forgotten my cigarettes.

Whew! Good thing he caught us on our feet.     

  

Salty chocolate feet

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