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Warning : This website may contain material unsuitable for those of a prudish disposition. If the shameless portrayal of vigorous male sexuality is not to your liking, then perhaps it's best to switch off the computer, make yourself a strong pot of tea or have a good lie down. For the rest of you with a more liberal attitude towards watching strapping men engaging in all manner of debauched acts, please feel free to continue.

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Taste the Rainbow!

Before the fresh optimism of the New Year withers away completely and we all become jaded once more, I’d like to chat about adopting a perpetual season of good will to all men.

Now, I absolutely love the male of the species! Certainly that comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me or has even seen me in passing, but I don’t mean that as simply a proclamation of my gayness. Rather, I adore gents in a wide variety of shapes and sizes and most importantly I appreciate all their different flavours…the creamy fillings aren’t all that bad either.

Personally, my only criteria is that they be smoking hot, regardless of the colour of their eyes, hair or skin. That being said, my brother and father are redheads so it does take a strapping specimen of the ginger variety to distract me from that unwelcome association.

I’ve never understood why some people will disregard an entire group of men out of hand, due only to their ethnicity – something that is seen far too often on dating apps. Of course, there is the other extreme where certain groups are fetishized but as long as you remember to treat your partners as equals, rather than a way to tick off an exotic fantasy, everybody wins.

Thank the Gods…

In honour of my American readers, I thought that I’d take the opportunity to express my gratitude on this most sacred turkey day. Not that I’ve ever actually celebrated Thanksgiving myself, mind you, but any holiday where you test a body to its very limits – by seeing how much you could stuff inside of it – certainly has appeal. Besides, I’ve always been a fan on getting down on my knees to show how very thankful I am for the gifts bestowed upon me, regardless of the season.

After much time spent in the pursuit of manly pleasure, I have quite a good deal for which to be grateful. Of course, there is the overall awesomeness of gay sex itself, and my good fortune to have been accompanied by many strapping specimens of manhood in my adventures, but today I thought I’d try to be a little more precise. So, without further ado, it’s time to thank and acknowledge those certain wonderful qualities that have made my masculine romps extremely enjoyable over the years.

Good Lip Work – Nothing beats an expertly executed, passionate kiss. I’ve often found that if the gent in question is talented in this regard, then it’s a good indicator as to their prowess in general. Sadly, the inverse tends to hold true as well – if he can’t master this act it’s unlikely he’s able to use his mouth correctly anywhere else.

F@&k-it List.

Granted, I’m by no means a novice when it come to matters of the carnal variety, but despite my somewhat extensive experience there are still quite a few things that I’d like to get up/in to before I toddle of this mortal coil. So I thought I’d share some of the things on my to do list, but not everything, a gentleman should leave a little something to the imagination, after all.

It would be fair to say that I have already done more than some people would even contemplate – twosomes, threesomes, men, women, orgies, B&D, S&M, watersports and so on. That being said, there are some exceptions to my usual philosophy of ‘never say never’ – scat being one of them…I do love Berlin but I’m not that German in my leanings.

First on my list of coveted carnality would be a threesome with a guy and girl. Surprisingly with all the combinations I’ve tried, this is one that has so far eluded me. I appreciate the beauty of both sexes so I figure what could be better than trying them both at the same time? I’m not all that keen, however, to have them in the same person. Not that I have anything against individuals who don’t conform to traditional notions of gender but it just isn’t what floats my boat. Personally, prefer to play with man parts on men and lady parts on women….call me old-fashioned.


First off, I should point out that L’Impact is a naturist bar, so unless you’re comfortable parading about in front of strangers with nary a stitch to protect your modesty then it probably isn’t the place for you. I first came into contact with this particular den of iniquity around nine years ago when I was merely a tourist to gay Paris instead of a proud resident. Another lusty lad that I had encountered earlier in my trip recommended it to me and I must say that I was an immediate fan. Drinking and debauchery what better way to pass an evening?

The ground level is a bar, complete with a transparent cubicle for the smokers so that they aren’t forced to go outside to indulge in their disgusting habit. Honestly, there are so many better things to stick in your mouth, especially in a venue such as this. But I digress.

Baby Got Back!

I’m reluctant to call myself an ass man. Don’t get me wrong, I’m most definitely an avid fan of this particular part of the male anatomy, but I’m also a proud face/leg/chest/torso….man. Indeed, I love every single part and could happily eat a man from head to toe and back again. Granted, there are men that have such breathtaking behinds that it can be hard to focus on anything but the butt. For the sake of brevity, however, I shall limit today’s missive to delicious derrières. Who doesn’t love a shapely-bottomed gent?

There’s just something about a pair of beautifully proportioned buttocks that gets my mind racing to all sorts of places…admittedly most often the gutter. From tight, pert ones, to gloriously round bubble butts and right through to hard muscular globes I love them all – fully clothed, bare or in any state of undress really. Admittedly, I am drawn more to those who possess a pleasantly plump posterior. Not only do they feel good in your hands but they also provide essential cushioning for when you’re hard at work thrusting away.


I’ve never understood why it’s seen as an insult to call someone a cocksucker. Personally, I take it as compliment. For me it’s one of the more noble pastimes one can pursue, helping out your fellow man in times of need. Honestly, why would you ever feel the need to disrespect the ones that are giving so much pleasure to the world?

It’s rather hypocritical really, as who doesn’t like to be on the receiving end of a phenomenal bout of fellatio? I happily admit to worshipping this particular part of the male anatomy. Indeed, I’m considerably fond of mine. It’s true that they do have a mind of their own, even if their thinking is perhaps not the most sound. Admittedly, it does take a while to get used to their disturbing tendency to move about on their own, and get excited in the most inappropriate of places, but I dare say that I’m not the only man to have been lead astray by the insistent needs of his manhood.

Three’s Company….

I’ve long had an affinity with the number three. For instance, I have three tattoos and my thirties have been my best decade yet. Not to say that I’m to the extreme of knocking and ringing three times but I just like to have threes of things. Although, I dare say that one husband is more than enough, as I’m nowhere ready or inclined for a polyamorous marriage – not that I’m discouraging others from getting themselves a few Brother Husbands mind you.

This connection has been particularly strong when it comes to my carnal predilections. Don’t get me wrong, I am quite fond of a hot twosome and hardly adverse to a friendly orgy. Indeed, I’ve had some most marvellous evenings flitting from one group to another like a slutty social butterfly, ensuring everyone is well sated. I do find, however, that three is much easier to organise and can be held in all manner of places without too much fuss – bed, shower, handy cubicle…

Saddle Up!

My heart was pounding and my stomach was all aflutter. I was mere moments away from disrobing and transforming from mild mannered tourist into sexually confident Stallion, freely able to choose my conquests from the hundred or so naked and extremely willing men. My first time at the FICKSTUTENMARKT (Horse Fair) was something of an eye-opening experience let me tell you.

It’s true I have been known to indulge in a bit of kink on occasion, but even I was a little cautious when a good friend suggested that there was a very special party I might enjoy. Granted, this particular pal is something of a deviant and I shouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest when I discovered exactly what was going to be required of me.

Backroom Basics…

Dark, dingy, and somewhat mysterious to the uninitiated, the humble backroom can be a bastion of great joy and merriment. Sure these delightful dens of debauchery may be sleazy, but that‘s half the appeal! Of course, as with most places geared towards the specific purpose of sex, they can also be a bit of a hit and miss affair, highly dependant on the friendliness – or indeed fickleness – of the crowd.

That being said, it can be most fun wandering about in the semi-darkness, although I’ve found that your eyes do adjust to a cat-like intensity, enabling the hunt for prey to continue unabated. Speaking of which, there are many methods that men employ to ensnare potential playmates, such as puffing out their chests to display their virile form or bouts of intense staring coupled with firm rubbing of crotches. Failing that, there is always the much more direct method of simply having your erect manhood out, in hand, and showing prospective partners exactly what is coming their way. Personally, my approach changes quite markedly depending on my level of intoxication, as my inhibitions – and clothes – fall to the wayside after a sneaky cocktail or several.

Glory Hole Etiquette.

Anonymous sex can be rather exhilarating and no more so when you aren’t quite sure who happens to be on the other side of a warm and welcoming hole.  Although personally I’m a little bit more discerning and like to have a vague idea as to the look of my conjugal companion – call me old fashioned that way. Besides it does tend to limit those embarrassing occasions when you both exit at the same time and suddenly realise you’ve just fellated a friend or worse a family member.

No matter where you find these handy holes – sauna, public restroom, supermarket aisle – they can be a source of relief, pleasure and sometimes great frustration.  Strangely, the etiquette of such devices does seem to vary markedly upon where it is found and indeed whom you talking to about this sticky subject. However, I do strongly believe there are a few rules that we should all agree to follow in our dealings at them regardless of their location.