Tygerscent

Fung Wa Bus, (5+ hour drive): I’d arrived early. First in line. It was winter and getting dark fast in China town.
 Got on the bus and sat in the isle seat putting my jacket in the window seat to dissuade anyone from taking it should the bus be otherwise unoccupied.
 I wanted some uninterrupted nap time~ 
 Just before pushing off, this disorganized early 20’s lad struggles onto the bus~ Too many bags and out of breath he stops at my seat~ He was wearing tan pants that hung around his slender legs. He was tall and his cuffs slagged over his shoe tops~ 
  “don’t say it… please, don’t say it”: was my silent thought~ 
 I pretended to be asleep but, he stood there until finally the words fell out of his mouth: “Can I sit here~?”~
 I peeked up, my sleepy blue eyes exchanging an annoyed glance into his brown impatient eyes~ His eyelashes were so long they touched the inside of his crooked wire frame glasses~ 
 “You have to take the window seat” I grumbled hoping he didn’t have a weak bladder~
 He reached over me and began cramming his bags into the foot well and under the seat ahead~
 His cap fell off of his curly hair and into my lap~ I looked up at him somewhat disgusted~ He grabbed the hat and then apologized~ I didn’t accept the apology and it was obvious~ wondering in disbelief: did he “really” just grab his hat from my lap~? Another single thought: “Boundaries”~
 Becoming confused with his many bags. 
 I interjected: “ why don’t we arrange your bags above where there’s space so that you have some legroom and we’re not stepping on your belongings”.
 I offered this not because I was trying to be nice but, rather I was slightly annoyed by the commotion and wanted to resume napping~ 
 So… “together” we sorted out what he needed near him on the trip and positioned the rest of his household in the overhead storage~
 The bus began shaking and the air brakes hissed as the bus door closed and we rolled away from the curb~ 
 Getting comfortable again, I decided the inner arm rest would be mine but, his constant fidgeting led to his elbow knocking into my funny bone… That’s never fun at the time~
  Refusing to relinquish my claim on the armrest, he nuzzled his arm against mine~  
 I was now offended as well as annoyed and briefly contemplated the worth of the $5 ticket~ Was this a bad choice~? His sprawling slender legs assured me of the accuracy of my fears~
  I spread my knees apart to designate the leg boundaries… The Cold War begins~ 
 Some miles into our journey, his arm awkwardly comes to rest along mine, as well his left leg against my right~ 
 It feels invasive and the gentle but, the constant pressure of his limbs on me takes on a new level of agitation as the bus makes its way thru the urban obstacle course of city street pot holes and sudden braking~
 This guy is obsessed with his bags… Endless searching results in a sack. He digs in, removing another. The Paper bag comes to settle on my leg as he clumsily pulls out some flaky, buttery scooby snack~ The oil stains in the paper make me think “Day old”… privately to myself: “please get this off my pants”.
 “That’s enough…”: echoes my inner but, thundering thoughts. I can’t endure this the length of the trip~ 
 He eats, tiny crumbs everywhere, repositioning his forearm against mine when finished~ 
  With the slightest pressure, I push into his forearm… It’s enough to be noticeable~ There is no response. I advance with more pressure… There is still no reaction~
 The tires roll, the engine hums, the bus bounces up and down~ The war is on and my thoughts drift back to territorial pissings on a school bus years ago~ “Let this not end with someone putting gum in someone’s hair”, I think as I apply even more pressure to his arm~
 My efforts seem futile. So, I begin to attack from the south~ I spread my legs to maintain my position there~ This forces him to adjust himself in the chair… his knee coming to rest under mine… but, in addition, his pinky falls onto mine~
“What’s this~???”  Eye lids shut, my inner consciousness is wide open and my new awareness burns thru the dark situation with X-ray vision~ Acutely, my focus becomes fixed not only on the shared pressure points but, his pinky~ 
 I peek ever so slightly and see his slender finger resting upon mine. Darker skin, pink border around the cuticle, neatly groomed nails… his personal hygiene is as well thought out as his take over of the seat he occupies and mine~ 
 Curiosity overcomes annoyance. It’s become a game of paper-scissors-rock~
 My turn again: I push my little finger under his just a wee tad~ Gees that engine sounds loud suddenly but, the thin sheets of silence between us unfold one by one~ Paper covers rock~ 
 The night has fallen and the game has changed but, uncertainty is in the air~
 One… two… three~ He moves slightly and in this opportunity, I remove my arm from the rest, my pinky is free and for a split second there seems to be a relief but, in our mutual regrouping, I drop my arm down and it comes to against his leg, my pinky resting on top of his thigh~ Unintentionally profound at the moment~ It’s a tie~ 
 Seconds roll by like boulders on the road… each time the bus hits one, there is the hand to leg reconnection~ His upper body leans into the window… The soft curls of his brown hair leave tracks in the condensation  of his breath against the pane and with a slight twist of his shoulder, his legs moves into me… My hand unmistakably open-palmed, comes to rest on his thigh~
  The hum of the engine and soft rocking of the bus disappears under my rapid heart beat~ It gives me a hard on~ 
 The flags have moved and the front lines along with them~ A scrummage has taken form~ 
 I advance my play… a single, gentle and nearly indistinct “petting” is returned by an equally gentle slide of his thigh under my fingertips~ A wetness forms in my briefs and I can feel it~ The liquid bollus collects into a tear that moves from behind my balls, up the length of my cock and ejects like a pellet thru the slit of my cherry head~ The movement of the bus amplifies it ten fold~ 
 In nearly slow motion, my fingers embrace the muscles in his thigh… it’s an easy but confident “hug”…  he lifts his leg into my advance~ 
 For whatever reason, I’m still clinging to the tactic of pretending to be asleep~ 
 Turning my head and peeking thru my eye lashes, I see the other patrons are sleeping, or perhaps pretending to be~ 
 With courage and a deep sigh, I shift myself… my hand becomes familiar with his inner thigh~ The tension in my pants is excruciating~ 
 In his “pretend” sleep, he extends his legs thru the crap he’s stored under the chair in front of him… we are back to pinky play and now there is the distinct roundness of his left nut under my finger tip… I’ve forgotten about gum and was thinking that this was not really like the school bus journeys of days gone by~ This continues on instead reminiscent of a miniature petting zoo where I start out with a baby piglet but, then ambitiously go on the hunt for a hungry giraffe~
   What progressed over the miles earlier seemed to now be navigated my the sway of the bus… my hand spread out like an octopus over the entirety of his crotch~ 
 Looking over toward him, those soft curls, long eyelashes… light brown skin, nostrils slightly flared… his lips were moist… they seemed barely to touch… I could see where he missed shaving~ 
 Wondering where the limit might be, my fingers instinctively navigated to the button fastening his pants~ 
 This motivated him to move completely~ The ball seemed to have been blocked from its goal and the game now over, but, he then reached down into one of the bags between his feet, rummaging around and finally pulling out a large coat, not for the winter chill but, the heat of the moment~
 Carefully, he wrapped himself in the coat, draping an open end over my leg and arm~
 Hidden under the muse of his creative mind, my hand traveled back across the hill of his thigh, along the inner curves of his leg, turning up the highway toward the highland where there seemed a park… opening the gate, I found a forest within.
 Aha~! I’d found the home of the giraffe~ 
 The petting zoo was open and I’d found a friend~ I entered… 
  His fur was wet and soft like a lamb… an innocent giraffe lamb~ “My” innocent giraffe lamb~
 The neck of the beast was long, slender… firm and it bent outward~
 So hungry it was that copious amounts of slippery dew spilt out lubricating my hand~ I could almost not help but to slide up and down his length~ 
 His plump veins pulsed under my fingertips… the velvet curves of his flesh helmet filled in the gaps between my fingers~ His heat radiated through my hand… The window was dripping with condensation~ 
 In an effort to be stealthy but, none the less full of intention, my fist throttled his caramel meat… Slow…. Steady… long stokes… his body involuntarily melting into my grip~ So wet… So warm~ 
The bus took a sudden turn off the highway…  I felt the beast thicken in my hand… looking over, the blue of my eyes spilt into the brown of his… our glances met and in single second, I felt the tip of his cock split open under my finger tips… a flood of semen cascaded into my hand~ I felt the fabric of his pants get wet~ 
 The moment over came me as did the tension under my buttoned pants… The bus hit a pot hole, my nipples brushed against my shirt… and holding the wetness of his cock, at that precise moment, I felt my face become flushed, my heart pound, my pupils dilate: Release~ 
 The light switched on in the bus:”We’ve reached the rest stop and food oasis. Please be back on the bus in fifteen minutes”~
 Our pants were visibly wet~ Stained~ The scent of semen in the air~ How could people not smell this I wondered~?
  “I think I will get a burger and use the bathroom”, he says in a shy but, friendly voice~ 
 “Yes… of course~ Me as well”~ 
 Jackets wrapped around our waists, we headed into the oasis~ 
 Quiet conversation followed later on the bus: He is a young professional, engaged to be married~ Intelligent and full of ambition, his experience in life is only beginning~ This was his first encounter with another man~
 We exchanged philosophy regarding human sexuality and private interests but no numbers~
 The bus finally stopped, the door released its hydraulic pressure in a single, explosive burst… “Pshhhhhhhht~!” He walked out of the open door and into open arms, glasses still crooked, long eyelashes sweeping the inside of the lenses~ This boy and his many bags~ A Beautiful boy~ A magical moment~ 
  I saved the five dollar ticket~
  
 
 
 
 
  

Part of the collection: Barbie, Ken and Oink~ Accessories sold separately and batteries not included. (Some assembly required).

But if they do… please note delivery is in the rear. 

Helps if the person has chatted me up on RM or elsewhere and is a n established registered profile with reviews. It says you are real and that your inquiry is legitimate. Also saves on confusion or having to disclose more than you want when communicating off site~ 
 Zero motivation to respond to profiles that are two weeks/months old, not registered users with 3,000 views and leaves the following message: “hey”~
 People who ask a lot, (info, pictures, location, demand instant responses), and provide no info about themselves are a big ol’ red flag~ 
 Most Providers aren’t going to be responsive to people taking their time away from those who sincerely want to schedule an appointment~ 
 Unintelligible texts red flag for someone messed up on drugs~ Probably won’t get a response there either~ No one wants to be a baby sitter or invite that into your hotel or room~ 
 If you are cold calling with no prior contact:  Many Providers have some name associated with them~ A good opening greeting something like: Hi “name/nickname the provider can recognize that is still discrete ”… this is “name/profile name”. “We chatted earlier” or “saw your ad.  I see you’re in town. (Coming to town). I’d like to arrange an appointment~ 

It’s not always disrespect that people don’t respond~ Sometimes people don’t respond because they are with a Client or traveling, (9hr/14hr flight not including checking in or baggage and transportation), followed by meeting a two week long Client). 
  It would be in poor taste to be texting other Clients for appointments when currently with a 1, 2, 6, 14, 24hr Appointment~ Seems a conflict of interest to be communicating for work on someone else’s time~ 
 I get that if you’re looking for the moment or something, you don’t necessarily have the time to wait for a response~ I’m just saying lack of response might not be a case of disrespect on the Providers part~ 
 From the Providers side: Clients as well have circumstantial lag time due to being with wife, kids, work, vacations, relationships with discretionary needs~
 Lots of variables…  

Jim’s new band: The Back Doors

Random nameless hole pix… if they really want to dress it up, add this to your text: “hey”

Random nameless hole pix… if they really want to dress it up, add this to your text: “hey”

Well… my life style and choices aren’t exactly what most people would find admirable or suitable for themselves~
 I don’t do it for anyones administration… It’s what I’m comfortable with~
 So, inaccurate about what’s “Going on” in what way~?
 I live a pretty fulfilling life with my Clients: theater, movies, hiking, scuba diving, quiet dinners, roaming the world… some of my Clients I’ve known for 20+Yrs~ We are social together~ 
 Sometimes we hang together with my Clients friends or family~ 
 It’s not that I don’t interact with other people… I simply prioritize my time to share life with my Clients~ 
 The time shared is life experiences and not all about sex~ I suppose if my relationships with my Clients were only about sex, that would be limiting~ 
 My overall life experience is pretty broad~ 

Unless specified to directly text, I usually reach out to a provider via the chat on RM. I don't want to blow up their phone waisting time. Plus I believe for review purposes, you have to message a provider on RM 1st to allow any reviews to be left. 
From there my message is usually: "Hey ____, how's everything going? I'm looking to book you for an outcall 1-hr session on Friday. I'm hosting at my private residence/hotel in ______ (insert city). My stats, I'm _______ (mention my stats) and I'm available from ___ am to ___ pm so whatever time works in between let me know. I'd mainly like to ________ (list what I'm looking to do during the meet). Also, I wanted to ask if race is an issue?
Thanks"
If all is clear, I then proceed to text where final arrangements can be locked in. 

It’s not always disrespect that people don’t respond~ Sometimes people don’t respond because they are with a Client or traveling, (9hr/14hr flight not including checking in or baggage and transportation), followed by meeting a two week long Client). 
  It would be in poor taste to be texting other Clients for appointments when currently with a 1, 2, 6, 14, 24hr Appointment~ Seems a conflict of interest to be communicating for work on someone else’s time~ 
 I get that if you’re looking for the moment or something, you don’t necessarily have the time to wait for a response~ I’m just saying lack of response might not be a case of disrespect on the Providers part~ 
 From the Providers side: Clients as well have circumstantial lag time due to being with wife, kids, work, vacations, relationships with discretionary needs~
 Lots of variables…  

Yup, that or a random hole pic.
Kevin Slater

Have AMEX Centurion Card in hand. Come to Daddy. . .

But if they do… please note delivery is in the rear. 

My Clients always come first and quite honestly, I do not go out and do things with friends~ My life is pretty much my Clients~ I used to have a wolf companion and when I wasn’t with Clients, I was doing things with him~ He died November 3rd 2014~ 
 I really only know my Clients~ 
 Escorting is not only my livelihood…  it’s who I am~ 
 The idea of friends outside of escorting is a bit of a foreign concept to me~ 

My Clients always come first and quite honestly, I do not go out and do things with friends~ My life is pretty much my Clients~ I used to have a wolf companion and when I wasn’t with Clients, I was doing things with him~ He died November 3rd 2014~ 
 I really only know my Clients~ 
 Escorting is not only my livelihood…  it’s who I am~ 
 The idea of friends outside of escorting is a bit of a foreign concept to me~ 

Fung Wa Bus, (5+ hour drive): I’d arrived early. First in line. It was winter and getting dark fast in China town.
 Got on the bus and sat in the isle seat putting my jacket in the window seat to dissuade anyone from taking it should the bus be otherwise unoccupied.
 I wanted some uninterrupted nap time~ 
 Just before pushing off, this disorganized early 20’s lad struggles onto the bus~ Too many bags and out of breath he stops at my seat~ He was wearing tan pants that hung around his slender legs. He was tall and his cuffs slagged over his shoe tops~ 
  “don’t say it… please, don’t say it”: was my silent thought~ 
 I pretended to be asleep but, he stood there until finally the words fell out of his mouth: “Can I sit here~?”~
 I peeked up, my sleepy blue eyes exchanging an annoyed glance into his brown impatient eyes~ His eyelashes were so long they touched the inside of his crooked wire frame glasses~ 
 “You have to take the window seat” I grumbled hoping he didn’t have a weak bladder~
 He reached over me and began cramming his bags into the foot well and under the seat ahead~
 His cap fell off of his curly hair and into my lap~ I looked up at him somewhat disgusted~ He grabbed the hat and then apologized~ I didn’t accept the apology and it was obvious~ wondering in disbelief: did he “really” just grab his hat from my lap~? Another single thought: “Boundaries”~
 Becoming confused with his many bags. 
 I interjected: “ why don’t we arrange your bags above where there’s space so that you have some legroom and we’re not stepping on your belongings”.
 I offered this not because I was trying to be nice but, rather I was slightly annoyed by the commotion and wanted to resume napping~ 
 So… “together” we sorted out what he needed near him on the trip and positioned the rest of his household in the overhead storage~
 The bus began shaking and the air brakes hissed as the bus door closed and we rolled away from the curb~ 
 Getting comfortable again, I decided the inner arm rest would be mine but, his constant fidgeting led to his elbow knocking into my funny bone… That’s never fun at the time~
  Refusing to relinquish my claim on the armrest, he nuzzled his arm against mine~  
 I was now offended as well as annoyed and briefly contemplated the worth of the $5 ticket~ Was this a bad choice~? His sprawling slender legs assured me of the accuracy of my fears~
  I spread my knees apart to designate the leg boundaries… The Cold War begins~ 
 Some miles into our journey, his arm awkwardly comes to rest along mine, as well his left leg against my right~ 
 It feels invasive and the gentle but, the constant pressure of his limbs on me takes on a new level of agitation as the bus makes its way thru the urban obstacle course of city street pot holes and sudden braking~
 This guy is obsessed with his bags… Endless searching results in a sack. He digs in, removing another. The Paper bag comes to settle on my leg as he clumsily pulls out some flaky, buttery scooby snack~ The oil stains in the paper make me think “Day old”… privately to myself: “please get this off my pants”.
 “That’s enough…”: echoes my inner but, thundering thoughts. I can’t endure this the length of the trip~ 
 He eats, tiny crumbs everywhere, repositioning his forearm against mine when finished~ 
  With the slightest pressure, I push into his forearm… It’s enough to be noticeable~ There is no response. I advance with more pressure… There is still no reaction~
 The tires roll, the engine hums, the bus bounces up and down~ The war is on and my thoughts drift back to territorial pissings on a school bus years ago~ “Let this not end with someone putting gum in someone’s hair”, I think as I apply even more pressure to his arm~
 My efforts seem futile. So, I begin to attack from the south~ I spread my legs to maintain my position there~ This forces him to adjust himself in the chair… his knee coming to rest under mine… but, in addition, his pinky falls onto mine~
“What’s this~???”  Eye lids shut, my inner consciousness is wide open and my new awareness burns thru the dark situation with X-ray vision~ Acutely, my focus becomes fixed not only on the shared pressure points but, his pinky~ 
 I peek ever so slightly and see his slender finger resting upon mine. Darker skin, pink border around the cuticle, neatly groomed nails… his personal hygiene is as well thought out as his take over of the seat he occupies and mine~ 
 Curiosity overcomes annoyance. It’s become a game of paper-scissors-rock~
 My turn again: I push my little finger under his just a wee tad~ Gees that engine sounds loud suddenly but, the thin sheets of silence between us unfold one by one~ Paper covers rock~ 
 The night has fallen and the game has changed but, uncertainty is in the air~
 One… two… three~ He moves slightly and in this opportunity, I remove my arm from the rest, my pinky is free and for a split second there seems to be a relief but, in our mutual regrouping, I drop my arm down and it comes to against his leg, my pinky resting on top of his thigh~ Unintentionally profound at the moment~ It’s a tie~ 
 Seconds roll by like boulders on the road… each time the bus hits one, there is the hand to leg reconnection~ His upper body leans into the window… The soft curls of his brown hair leave tracks in the condensation  of his breath against the pane and with a slight twist of his shoulder, his legs moves into me… My hand unmistakably open-palmed, comes to rest on his thigh~
  The hum of the engine and soft rocking of the bus disappears under my rapid heart beat~ It gives me a hard on~ 
 The flags have moved and the front lines along with them~ A scrummage has taken form~ 
 I advance my play… a single, gentle and nearly indistinct “petting” is returned by an equally gentle slide of his thigh under my fingertips~ A wetness forms in my briefs and I can feel it~ The liquid bollus collects into a tear that moves from behind my balls, up the length of my cock and ejects like a pellet thru the slit of my cherry head~ The movement of the bus amplifies it ten fold~ 
 In nearly slow motion, my fingers embrace the muscles in his thigh… it’s an easy but confident “hug”…  he lifts his leg into my advance~ 
 For whatever reason, I’m still clinging to the tactic of pretending to be asleep~ 
 Turning my head and peeking thru my eye lashes, I see the other patrons are sleeping, or perhaps pretending to be~ 
 With courage and a deep sigh, I shift myself… my hand becomes familiar with his inner thigh~ The tension in my pants is excruciating~ 
 In his “pretend” sleep, he extends his legs thru the crap he’s stored under the chair in front of him… we are back to pinky play and now there is the distinct roundness of his left nut under my finger tip… I’ve forgotten about gum and was thinking that this was not really like the school bus journeys of days gone by~ This continues on instead reminiscent of a miniature petting zoo where I start out with a baby piglet but, then ambitiously go on the hunt for a hungry giraffe~
   What progressed over the miles earlier seemed to now be navigated my the sway of the bus… my hand spread out like an octopus over the entirety of his crotch~ 
 Looking over toward him, those soft curls, long eyelashes… light brown skin, nostrils slightly flared… his lips were moist… they seemed barely to touch… I could see where he missed shaving~ 
 Wondering where the limit might be, my fingers instinctively navigated to the button fastening his pants~ 
 This motivated him to move completely~ The ball seemed to have been blocked from its goal and the game now over, but, he then reached down into one of the bags between his feet, rummaging around and finally pulling out a large coat, not for the winter chill but, the heat of the moment~
 Carefully, he wrapped himself in the coat, draping an open end over my leg and arm~
 Hidden under the muse of his creative mind, my hand traveled back across the hill of his thigh, along the inner curves of his leg, turning up the highway toward the highland where there seemed a park… opening the gate, I found a forest within.
 Aha~! I’d found the home of the giraffe~ 
 The petting zoo was open and I’d found a friend~ I entered… 
  His fur was wet and soft like a lamb… an innocent giraffe lamb~ “My” innocent giraffe lamb~
 The neck of the beast was long, slender… firm and it bent outward~
 So hungry it was that copious amounts of slippery dew spilt out lubricating my hand~ I could almost not help but to slide up and down his length~ 
 His plump veins pulsed under my fingertips… the velvet curves of his flesh helmet filled in the gaps between my fingers~ His heat radiated through my hand… The window was dripping with condensation~ 
 In an effort to be stealthy but, none the less full of intention, my fist throttled his caramel meat… Slow…. Steady… long stokes… his body involuntarily melting into my grip~ So wet… So warm~ 
The bus took a sudden turn off the highway…  I felt the beast thicken in my hand… looking over, the blue of my eyes spilt into the brown of his… our glances met and in single second, I felt the tip of his cock split open under my finger tips… a flood of semen cascaded into my hand~ I felt the fabric of his pants get wet~ 
 The moment over came me as did the tension under my buttoned pants… The bus hit a pot hole, my nipples brushed against my shirt… and holding the wetness of his cock, at that precise moment, I felt my face become flushed, my heart pound, my pupils dilate: Release~ 
 The light switched on in the bus:”We’ve reached the rest stop and food oasis. Please be back on the bus in fifteen minutes”~
 Our pants were visibly wet~ Stained~ The scent of semen in the air~ How could people not smell this I wondered~?
  “I think I will get a burger and use the bathroom”, he says in a shy but, friendly voice~ 
 “Yes… of course~ Me as well”~ 
 Jackets wrapped around our waists, we headed into the oasis~ 
 Quiet conversation followed later on the bus: He is a young professional, engaged to be married~ Intelligent and full of ambition, his experience in life is only beginning~ This was his first encounter with another man~
 We exchanged philosophy regarding human sexuality and private interests but no numbers~
 The bus finally stopped, the door released its hydraulic pressure in a single, explosive burst… “Pshhhhhhhht~!” He walked out of the open door and into open arms, glasses still crooked, long eyelashes sweeping the inside of the lenses~ This boy and his many bags~ A Beautiful boy~ A magical moment~ 
  I saved the five dollar ticket~
  
 
 
 
 
  

And doesn’t he have a sort of young Dustin Hoffman feel about him~? Mrs Robinson era~  

The judgement has its own agenda… and again, says more about the person judging~ 
 Stigma and stereotyping may intrinsically be accompanied by the judgement~
 Stigma and stereotyping are both powerful tools but, also prone to gross inaccuracies~ 
 Judgement can save you or be its own enemy~ 
 Sometimes it helps protect you from a bad situation… Other times it is it’s own bad situation and can create something bad. I think that it’s easy to generalize about things here but, what is really core and essential to the point are these two questions: What is the intention of asking~? What is the result of answering~?
 

My Clients always come first and quite honestly, I do not go out and do things with friends~ My life is pretty much my Clients~ I used to have a wolf companion and when I wasn’t with Clients, I was doing things with him~ He died November 3rd 2014~ 
 I really only know my Clients~ 
 Escorting is not only my livelihood…  it’s who I am~ 
 The idea of friends outside of escorting is a bit of a foreign concept to me~