KrisParr

Dude, just name your price. Money is no object. Woof!

Loving this topic- in no particular order: Older brother’s strength and health or wrestling magazines Teen neighbor boy in his leather biker jacket who smoked Marlboro Locker room at swimming pool/club Jr. High football coach who looked like Rob Lowe’s twin - major crush First time reading “The Word” gay newspaper - it was free from downtown Indy newsstand Finding and hiding a Honcho magazine for a few years until it fell apart

No comparison - in a word: immaculate https://rentmen.eu/LiamV

https://rent.men/RAFAELALENCAR/ Apparently still working. 30 ***** reviews.

https://gayforfans.com/video/rafael-alencar-fucks-nate-stetson/ Rafael is still looking good - anyone hire him lately?

Interesting point. One of my long-time escorts was definitely gay, but a lousy kisser and was part of the reason I stopped hiring him. At the other end is a well known (98% straight) escort who is probably the best French-style smoochers I’ve ever encountered. So I’m not sure lip-locking skills can definitively point to orientation. I do remember Andrew Justice could make me “pop” simply by kissing- he was so good at everything.

Yeah, it’s not your grandfather’s SNL - some really hot dancers, erotic crotch shots and one dude with an amazing tongue licking on NAS’ neck - worth rewinding at least once.

Loving the new look and feel ... many, many thanks.

I don’t know if this qualifies. Several years ago, I moved to a new city. My apartment complex had a few basketball courts that were rarely used. I hired a local guy, and asked a few upfront questions. He said he had been a jock in high school and considered himself a decent ball player. I asked him to dress accordingly and come over for a little one-on-one. He showed up and was much hotter in person. So we shot hoops for about 10-15 minutes and I was ready to jump his bones, but he was more into wiping the court with me. We played at least other 20+ minutes and I finally told him enough was enough. I think he was probably 22 or so and I was pushing 40. So we went to my place, showered, and well, yeah, we fooled around. A lot. Really, a lot. I was exhausted.

At the very first sign of “something ain’t right” get the fuck outta there. I didn’t listen to my instincts one time and wound up being more or less held hostage by a masseur who was clearly unhinged. I had to enlist some old college wrestling moves to get out the door and ran like hell. That’s why our brain sends us little warning signals. You were damn lucky. Just sayin’

It’s almost Friday. True story: So I get an email this morning that an order from my mail order pharmacy, scheduled for delivery today (and requires a signature), would be delayed until tomorrow. That’s a problem since I’m going to be out of town. A few minutes later, I get a phone call (recorded message) with the same information, but if I want to reschedule, simply call this 800 number and they will be glad to deliver at a more convenient time. Cool. I call the number. Hello (computer voice) ... and the usual half dozen prompts to be sure it’s me. Finally, “how can I help you?” Reschedule delivery. No problem. Then a litany of my last 3 orders ... a plea for me to enroll in a medication packaging plan, and eventually it takes me to the main menu. I repeated, “reschedule delivery” “She” replied, would you like to hear your order history? Fuck no. Customer service. Do you mean, “representative?” Sure. Human comes on the line. I explain the whole situation. He tells me to call UPS. But YOU called ME with YOUR fucking phone number! Why didn’t you TELL me to call UPS in the first place? No response from human. So I ask, can you give me the number for UPS? I’m placed on hold, and eventually get the number. === Thank you for calling UPS (computer) Please enter a bunch of digits from your tracking number. Okay. “Your package is on the truck scheduled for delivery by 8 pm today” Wha?? Would you like to reschedule? Uh, hell, I don’t know. Just a reminder- your package requires a signature. Whatever. ======= 5pm - doorbell rings - my package, which supposedly requires a signature is on the doormat and the UPS driver is headed down the street and sort of waves. ======= Ah, technology. Ain’t it swell?

Easy. Notre Dame.

My left foot - After years of treatment including shots, icing, stretching, loads of PT, a 10 minute laparoscopic surgery fixed it for good. It was a last resort, but glad I did it. A year later it developed in the other foot. Didn’t wait - had another in/out surgery. That was 2 years ago - haven’t had any problems- I run, swim, bike, hike - all good so far.

Wow ... just wow

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3QTHm88O_k This guy has posted some hilarious stuff over the years about scams.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3QTHm88O_k This guy has posted some hilarious stuff over the years about scams.

Would definitely contribute if assured anonymity.

Continue to agree; it’s the look, feel and aroma that are intoxicating- have had a ”thing” for leather as far back as I can remember. The next door neighbor teen wore a leather biker jacket; got me hard before I even knew what was happening.

https://www.boyfriendtv.com/videos/630120/escort-service-2/ wow ...

Oops ... I hope the postimage people don‘t look too closely at my account. Wink, wink.

Try “Butter Buds” sprinkle on powder - decent flavor - if not at grocery, try Amazon

Oh hell, yeah, probably with my teeth ... you know me so well ...

Now if the jockstrap were made out of leather ... sigh

Back in my college days, when I was not out, I worked with a really ditzy chick. Several of our work-crew went out for drinks one night, and she was asking a bunch of us what our career goals were. Without missing a beat, I told her if I ever made it through med school, I wanted to be a gynecologist. She said excitedly, “Oh, that’s cool - I hear they make a lot of money.” “They do? Huh, I thought they did it for free.” Clueless, she said, “No, really, they do!” ... while everyone was rolling on the floor. It was difficult to keep a straight face. No pun intended.