I propose the sites name be changed to "shitty dog dicks". Can we get a filter or something? I understand peoples tastes span the spectrum, but there is a preponderance of scat and bestiality I could do without seeing.

I'm in Ottawa Canada. I need to get out of the house, drink and smoke. Is there anyone who wants to party with me?

I'm slim bi versetile and ready for anything from mutual masturbation through the spectrum to mild whips and chains.

Of course lots of porn and posting on ml too ;)

My experience with one particular dating site has been far less than stellar since I joined about six months ago. It's the six-letter one that starts with "T." Since I'm at the far upper end of the age spectrum (71), I can't imagine I'm a "hot commodity" for most women on there, although I sure attract my share of "fakes, flakes and foreign babes." Judging from my responses alone, there must be an entire section of Hong Kong bursting with gorgeous women anxious to hook up. Yeah -- right!

This past Friday night was the anomaly. At about 10 pm I was alerted to a match. Swiping right to accept, I saw that Emily was a 33-y/o Hispanic woman. I decided to cut to the chase and announce I was horny and looking for a meeting that very night. Since I was ready for bed, I figured it didn't cost me anything to pour on the pressure. Much to my surprise, she admitted a similar interest, and we soon came to a tentative agreement.

Since I'm married, I can't host, She claimed to have moved to Denver recently and had two roommates who were [a] home for the evening and [b] had friends over. She lived in a large apartment complex in one of Denver's north suburbs, so I suggested we meet at a 24/7 porn theater that turned out to be literally 20 blocks from her place. She was skittish about that prospect, so instead she suggested I drive over to the clubhouse area of her complex and we meet for some car play.

Ten minutes later, I was out the door and on my way. My wife and I share a 2BR condo, and one of its advantages is that our bedrooms are on opposite sides of the unit. On Friday nights, she takes a sleeping pill, so it's possible to slip out unnoticed. Emily messaged me twice as I headed north, clearly concerned that I might flake out on her. Thirty minutes after I pulled out of my garage, I was parked in front of her complex's clubhouse and promptly let her know I'd arrived.

She walked up to my car just as I was climbing out. She's about 5-5, 160 pounds, large tits, big butt, and a soft "poochy" belly. We kissed briefly but felt rather exposed under the parking lot lights, so we climbed into the backseat of my car from opposite sides. I drive a Prius, which is hardly conducive to amorous activity, but she was clearly horny enough to want to make this work. She wore a peach-colored mini-dress with thin shoulder straps and a scoop-neck front to show off her cleavage. We kissed some more while trying to find an optimal position for further action.

Reaching up under her dress, I quickly discovered she was naked beneath it, with a smooth hairless pussy that was already getting moist. She pulled down her top to give me access to her nipples -- nothing special, but sensitive -- and shifted into the corner of the backseat as she pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist. Even after she hooked her right ankle up over the front passenger seat to give me full access to her slit -- her thick thighs were spread as far apart as room would allow -- the area wasn't quite spacious enough for me to go down on her.

So instead, I proceeded to rub her pussy with my left hand while using my right hand to massage her tits and tug on her nipples. Over the course of about 20 minutes, I finger-fucked her to at least a dozen orgasms. At various points in the process I had two fingers in her vagina, three in, and four in -- pumping away like a madman as she rode the wave multiple times. I tried to fist her, but my hands are fairly large, so the best I could do was four fingers plus the thumb up to the first knuckle.

She was extremely vocal -- alternately urging me on and announcing each impending orgasm -- so it was a good thing I'd left my car windows closed. Four or five times she reached down with her right hand to brush-bate her clit as i worked my hand in and out of her pussy, and twice she grabbed hold of my t-shirt with her left hand and twisted the cloth (plus a bit of the underlying skin!) as she came. [When I got home, I saw there was a speck of blood in the center of my shirt.] At one point I administered The Shocker (three fingers in her pussy, plus my pinkie deep in her ass), and not only did she NOT object to the intrusion, but twice more in the throes of an orgasm she boldly invited me to do it again. "That's the first time I had someone do that to my ass," she claimed. I kind of doubted that, but I was in no mood to refute her claim.

Twice during our fingering session I took a slight break -- hey, I'm OLD! -- and withdrew my fingers to lick off her juices. The second time, I offered her the first taste, and she greedily sucked two of my fingers into her mouth.

Naturally I was hoping for some reciprocating action, but before I could shift in my seat and start to pull down my gym shorts, Emily said, "Geez, look at the time, My roommates will be wondering where I'd gone." With that she delicately lifted her ankle off the front seat where it'd been resting, climbed out of the car, and did a quick adjustment to her dress so that all the naughty bits were covered up.

I suggested a return engagement for Sunday afternoon, and she seemed quite enthusiastic to meet me at the porn theater a mere two miles from her apartment. Off she went into the night, and I headed home. When I got there, I pulled out my phone to message her about Sunday, only to discover she'd "unmatched" me in the interim. I caught myself thinking, "I bet she did that as I was driving away," and was pissed at myself for not having secured some other way to contact her. She'd gotten what she wanted without having to satisfy me, but I still had fun. "Her loss," I figured, since if we'd actually gotten together on Sunday in a place with room to stretch out, there would have been some serious pussy eating going on.

I confess the last escort I saw wasn't the greatest.
Paid her 180 for 1.5hr, left after 1hr.
She was so tight, when i started fucking her doggy style, she had to change position i was too deep for her.( I'm not small, but I'm not THAT big! )
She had a cute ass and bod, but she was older then she made out.
Made me cum really quickly first time ( not hard - hadnt had sex for a month at the time) , then round two comes and she's trying to be interested.
She was so tight, when i started fucking her doggy, she had to change position i was too deep for her.
I got a broad spectrum of what i find sexy, even so the longer I was with her the less attractive she got!!
She couldn't get me off a second time......even though one escort I went with managed it twice with just her mouth!

So wont be going back to her.

That was 6 weeks ago...... and now my balls ache !!!

sexstarveddad

This isn't terribly salacious so I'm sorry but at least it's true, so there is always that.

I have been going out with my boyfriend for 18 months and I love him, I really do. Prior to him, I believed and practised polyamory but he is very monogamous so I've stuck with that. I like having sex with a couple of men at once but I've had a very unconventional past and can rely on just my memories to get me through.

However, I'm struggling with not being with women any more. I would identify myself as pansexual. My boyfriend gets excited at the idea of me being with women and my history with them but he falls at the last hurdle of us taking it further.

I love swinging clubs, group sex and all of those related things... I'm completely willing to sleep with no other men but my boyfriend but I feel that he would secretly like to introduce a woman into our sex life but is a little bit intimidated by someone other than him getting me off.

If anybody is in/has been in the same position, I'd live advice on putting his mind at ease. Sensible please (ha).

Wanted to add... the strange (?) thing is, he isn't a prude. Quite frankly, I've fucked a lot of people from different ends of the BDSM/Vanilla spectrum and my boyfriend is very innovative and very exciting. He likes the idea of multiple people pleasuring me but not the reality... should I just leave it? I would like threesomes etc but if I have to go without it, I will.

Sorry for rambling. I'm drinking Vodkat! (Cheap) :)

I like scat, but only at what you might call the more conservative end of the scatological spectrum. I like to watch nice firm turds slowly erupting from nicely distended female assholes. That's it. No smearing, eating, or playing in it. And no loose, sloppy diarrhea looking shit, just normal healthy looking turds.

Saw this on another website and thought it would be of interest here.

Twitter and Facebook aside, groups of young blacks who violently harass whites and Asians (“flash mobs”) are hardly new. In the 1960s this was called “wilding,” and for over a decade New York City subways (and probably much public transportation elsewhere) became almost unusable thanks to black teenagers who moved from car to car terrorizing hapless white riders.

Nevertheless, today’s flash mobs (for a listing of attacks, see http://violentflashmobs.com/) are disturbing beyond the immediate violence. In the context of contemporary race relations, this growing epidemic of anti-white mayhem was not supposed to happen. Blacks attacking whites because they are white represents an abrogation of a decades-long treaty between whites and blacks. Not a treaty in the formal sense, but an “understanding” that might as well be a legal contract. Let me explain.

The 1960s saw widespread black violence, much of it explicitly anti-white. This ranged from week-long urban riots to individual blacks killing or raping whites opportunistically. Many victims were chosen only because of race. The government’s response was both enhanced policing and, of the utmost relevance, today’s racial spoils system: affirmative action, set asides, massive anti-poverty spending, Justice Department decrees to help blacks get elected, dumbed down civil service standards, easy home mortgages and sundry other “help blacks” programs. You can also add race-driven political correctness: banning “offensive” words (e.g., colored), exaggerating the role of blacks in American history, glowing media portrayals, downplaying black-on-white violent crime, and everything else designed to massage black egos. And for good measure, add hate crime laws, speech codes, and draconian punishment for those who spoke the truth on race. This is the price white America now pays for public safety.

The Treaty’s aim was to stop the underclass from running wild by creating a black middle class who would, it was assumed, keep a lid on things out of economic self-interest. A newly appointed affirmative-action $125,000-a-year black school principal might not boost test scores but he would not encourage pupils to seek economic justice “by any means necessary.” Better to have potential rabble-rousers toiling as corporate vice-p********s for diversity than stirring up the brothers.

Endless failed policies have not undermined the Treaty. In education, for example, Head Start and school meals funding is still growing despite disappointing outcomes. Armies of support staff now fill largely black schools even though academic performance remains unchanged. Clearly, this lavishness can be understood only as a pay-off to sustain racial peace.

The Treaty is sacrosanct across the ideological spectrum, and even admitting its existence is verboten. Nobody dare ask, for example, if all the affirmative action hires or government set-a-sides that guarantee domestic tranquility actually yield economic benefits. No struggling black university student worries that flunking out will endanger affirmative action; a dreadful drop-out rate will only bring more government largess.

Since the 1960s, with scant exceptions, this pay-off has been amazingly successful. Once common “race war” rhetoric (burn baby burn, the fire next time etc.) has virtually vanished. Urban riots have gone from once a week to once a decade. Black militancy has largely reverted to its pre-1960s form of litigation and legislative demands. White mayors no longer walk the streets to keep the peace during the “long hot summer” or plead for Washington money so they can hire community-activist firebrands. Yes, black crime persists, black-run cities like Newark and Detroit sink into Third-World depravity, and whites are sometimes the victims of black crime, but 1960s style anti-white mayhem (and revolutionary oratory) has, at least until very recently, almost vanished.

The key question is whether these flash mobs are the first inklings of a soon-to-be broken Treaty (recall how the “Arab Spring” began with a single, seemingly innocuous incident). It is not inconceivable that America could return to 1960s-style racial upheaval. It is this possibility, not the criminality per se, that makes proliferating flash mobs especially frightening. Aggressive policing in response could prompt a vintage urban riot, and rioting is often contagious. Fiscal cutbacks might end millions of government “make work” jobs for blacks, and many of the slots blacks used to fill are now taken by Hispanic immigrants. Our former $125,000-a-year principal will no longer have an incentive to keep the peace.

Keep in mind that no black under the age of 40 remembers the pre-Treaty days, a world without the lucrative spoils system and ego-enhancing PC. For them, all the keep-the-peace benefits bestowed by a white-dominated government are normal, a justly deserved arrangement with no expiration date.

Can anything be done if matters begin reverting to pre-Treaty days? Probably not much beyond more aggressive policing, a risky tactic that might exacerbate violence. The Treaty cannot be amended to provide even more benefits for blacks. Pressuring American firms to hire more unqualified African Americans or upping the penalties for alleged racial discrimination will just push businesses to North Dakota or Asia. It is hard to imagine America becoming even more PC on race. Admitting more unqualified blacks to colleges would just boost the drop-out rate. And forget about more generous welfare at a time when cities and states already have budget shortfalls. If anything, the tide seems to be turning to renegotiate the Treaty to cut benefits for blacks. State bans on racial preferences—never legislated by elected representatives but forced on them by voters—are a good example of how ordinary people are thinking.

In short, the Treaty may be expiring but the spoils system—even if the benefits are a little leaner—is probably forever.

Mr. Kay is a retired academic finally free to speak his mind.

(Posted on August 5, 2011)

I confess, this video is very hot. Her braces and the visible decor suggest that she's on the old end of the spectrum. She starts sucking her man at about 6:00 in (out of 7:34 total). No audio seems to have survived, but we are treated to a song whose chorus seems to be "Conga, conga, conga!" Give it a whirl.

http://videarn.com/video.php?id=203939

I confess I love jackin off on cam to women/girls I've met in Chatropolis chat rooms.
Now, I also confess I estimate that at least 90 odd percent of the "females" there are most likely gay guys posing as girls. If I think about that, it ruins it all for me, so I simply give in to the fantasy and "trust" that they are really females.

Problem is, I'm just not sure how to deal with those that claim they are under 18 and still want to watch...or, worse yet, they'll be watching and then claim they are under 18.

I understand some like to age play and all and for the most part those are pretty easy to figure out, especially the ones that are really bad at it (they will claim to be somewhere in the single digits...some in the lower end of that spectrum even...it's too funny at times at how bad they are at the game). Then of course you have the ever present "mom" who wants to watch and then suggests that her young daughter come in and watch with her....LOL

I had that happen once and completely by accident. Mom and I were doing a cam2cam (she was one of the few actual females I've met on there) and well, we were going at it and she had forgotten to lock her door. Her 8 yr old daughter walked in on her and mom couldn't figure out what to do first, cover herself up, cover the cam up or cover my webcam view up...LOL. After about 10 minutes and everything calmed down, she got back on cam and filled me in on everything. Mom was embarrassed but laughing and then she started thinking about it and asked if I'd allow her daughter to watch with her. Sorry guys, say what you will about me, but I said I don't think that'll be a good idea. Mom was to say the least a bit upset and we didn't chat for some time. Then when we did chat, she admitted that if I won't allow her daughter to watch, that maybe she'll just let her watch from out of camera shot and not tell me. I didn't care for that and to this day, we've only cam2cam a few times and it's always been while her daughter was at school.

Anyways, sorry for the tangent...what I'm concerned about is being on cam for these "females" from Chatropolis, an obvious adult site where you have to admit you are at least 18 to enter as usual, that claim to be under 18 either before or after they are watching. Am I committing a crime by allowing them to keep watching? Or is it OK since we met at an adult site and it's most likely just age play?

I mean, i can ask them all I want, they can always simply lie either way....they can be 32 and say they are 19, or that they are 9....what's the difference if that's the fantasy they want to play? I'm I suppose to always make sure I'm the "moral fag" and kill the cam feed because they want to claim they are under 18?

Jackin off on cam shouldn't have to be this fucking tough and worriesome.

I know this is completely the wrong website to confess this and that I will receive no sympathy but here goes...

I was born a girl but I desperately, desperately want to be a man. I've always felt this way, even when I was growing up. However, I was so ashamed of my feelings that I presented at the opposite end of the spectrum - always wearing my hair long, wearing dresses and acting feminine. But acting is the right word. It was all an act and I just did it to fit in and so that people wouldn't discover my secret.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago and I start to feel a little braver. I let my body hair grow, I cut my hair shorter and I stop wearing skirts and dresses completely. I buy a binder but I only ever wear it at home. I buy some male underwear and sometimes wear it in public. But that's as far as I've got.

A few friends have asked me whether I'm a lesbian (I've never really dated), and I'm really not, but I'm too scared to tell them the truth. The only people I've ever come out to are a few strangers online. It felt so liberating to tell them. So I guess that's why I'm making this post. Thanks for reading.

Just upgraded my Sinclair Spectrum to a Spectrum ZX,the valves are glowing when i am in chat.