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Should I be ashamed of my true self and my craving for cock?

Here's is a photo of me naked from 13 years ago

My manager fucked me countless times in this outdoor jacuzzi
My manager fucked me countless times in this outdoor jacuzzi

What's the story behind this photo?


It was a fun weekend with a former manager of mine.


He took me to a lovely B&B in northern Israel. He'd suggested this idea several times before, but I always made up an excuse not to accept his offer.


Wasn't he good looking enough?


On the contrary! He was gorgeous, and I somewhat fell in love with him. As for him, He was completely in love with me long before I was.


I thought about him in the shower this morning while playing with my cock.

From day one at that company, I had a suspicion that he was attracted to me.


However, I could never have imagined him being in love with a much younger, openly gay man.


He was divorced, and with four kids (so I'd assumed he was straight). But when he sent me "I love you, let's get married.", I had no further doubts about his intentions. A straight guy would never send such a message.


What made me fall in love with him?


He was in his 50s, tall, muscular, and hairy. In other words: perfect.


Every time he came smiling to my desk, my heart stopped, and my hole became loose. The noticeable bulge in his pants hinted that he had a very promising breeding machine and also that he was attracted to me.


Often, while masturbating, I fantasized about serving his cock and holding his hairy balls while he shoots his seed in my ass.


When I finally got to serve his cock, I realized that it was far bigger and thicker than mine

I was delighted to find out that there was so much hair on his big balls, ass and warm hole. If you've been following my blog, then you know that hairy men make me drop to my knees, begging to get fucked.


Why had I refused his offers to spend a weekend together until then?


I consulted with some female friends who all advised me not to accept his proposal as long as we were working together.


But this was about to change:

"Theon, this is my last week, and I don't know if and when we'll see each other again. I want to tell you how much influence you've on me. I've learned a lot from you, and if it hadn't been for you, I'd probably have quit much sooner.
Spending a fun weekend with you would be a perfect way to end my employment here."

When he said that, my heart was racing, and my cock was so hard that it was borderline painful. I told him that I'd love to and noticed his bulge becoming more prominent than ever before.


Did we fuck?


Most of that weekend he was preoccupied with fucking me. He'd never fucked a man before, and his only experience with guys had been a few blowjobs in high school.


A lot of the fucking took place in that jacuzzi.

But also inside our gorgeous room, in the shower and in front of the fireplace. I think that the only time he let go of my exhausted love hole was when I went to the toilet!


I still wear the thong I modeled for him that weekend.

I'm embarrassed to share with you that his balls were in a much better state than mine.


He emptied his balls all over my body (front and backside), my face, in my mouth, or in the condom, while fucking me, at least twice as much as I drained mine.


He was a stallion, and he'd been waiting to fuck me for over a year. He'd also waited his entire life to fuck a guy.


Why am I telling you an old fuck story when I have so many new ones to share?


Because I want to demonstrate how little, during the last 13 years, my attitude has changed regarding nudity, sexuality, and being gay.


My looks have changed quite a bit.


I have a much more manly appearance (even though older lovers still refer to me as "boy").


But my personality and attitude are the same as they were all those years ago when I attempted to start blogging.


I offered a gay social network (which no longer exists) to write about my angle on gay life in Israel.


They loved the idea.


I wasn't vegan 13 years ago, but I was already the same person I am today as regards being:

  • a bottom

  • promiscuous

  • always happy

  • a nudist

  • very fuckable

  • a great guy to hang with

It was an American social network, and I was well aware that Americans (even gays) are prudish regarding sex and nudity. Therefore, I wasn't going to be as open about my life, true personality and sexual adventures.


At least not right away.


That short blog post took me a day to write because I couldn't find the right words. Every paragraph was a struggle. I reread it today, and I knew immediately why it had taken me so long to write it.


I was pretending to be someone else.


I attempted to be serious and hide my true self.


Indeed, I have a lot to say about any topic you can think of:

  • Socialism,

  • Capitalism,

  • Politics in general,

  • Religion,

  • Science,

  • Video games,

  • ...as well as the pleasures my ass can provide

The last topic (how fuckable my ass is) was precisely the problem.


I intentionally hid the fact that I'm a very sexual being. For example, I started the blog post describing how I sit in my room. I failed to mention that I was naked at the time, playing with my sensitive balls.


There was nothing special about that; I'm often naked indoors.

Only one blog post was published.


The next one was about my "experience" working for the sex industry (I'll share it with you as well).


They refused to publish it because it was, "not a good fit for their audience." It was a shame because I still think it was a great blog post.


I told them that I no longer wished to write for them, and that was it. I didn't go blogging again until I opened this one nearly two years ago.


I "quit" because I wanted to write about my real life. I didn't want to write about restaurants and shows. I wanted to tell the world about how I live my life. Since my life was, and still is, full of sex, I didn't want to have any drama or shame about it.


I also quit because I wanted to get exciting responses from my readers...


...such as this one that I received while writing this blog post:


In the first blog post, 13 years ago, I wrote:

" I don't do shame.
I carry the crown of my gayness with pride. It's not a crown made of thorns like Jesus wore, nor is it the yellow Star of David from the Holocaust. It is a beautiful bouquet that I take with me everywhere I go. "

I wouldn't use the same words today because it sounds superficial and pompous.


But true to my nature, even back then, I wasn't going to hide who I am.

That's why I "quit."


Without further ado, I give you my first and only blog post that was ever published there. I've added some photos to make it a bit more interesting. The original blog post was only textual.


Black text was not part of the original.


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It's a cold winter in Israel.


Today, it's the same, but we are in lockdown.


I'm sitting in my tv room, looking through the window.


The same place where I was sitting back then and with the same amount of clothes

It's cloudy, and raindrops are splashing on the window. The mountain villages far in the distance and the buildings around my flat seem nearer today.


It reminds me the words of my favorite singer - Alexandra:


Grau zieht der Nebel. Durch die menschenleere Stadt ("The gray fog moves through the deserted city.)

13 years later, she's still one of my favorite singers

A screenshot of her playlist from my computer
A screenshot of her playlist from my computer

The sky, the earth, and the city all seem to blend together. I long for warmer times, but I realize that a gray day is probably perfect for my first blog post.


It takes a lot of nerve to think that my life can be of any interest to strangers. Sure, I'd like to believe that I'm unique and that I've so much to offer to the world.


The truth of the matter is the exact opposite.


Like you, I live and struggle to exist in an ever-changing world, and one day I'll die without even achieving the bare minimum of what I'd hoped for.


So, why do I even tire you with my thoughts?


Despite the above, I believe that my life and how I grew up will convince you that I am special, unique, and have achieved a lot.


I'm sure that if you can't be convinced of the above, then at least, I have managed to convince you that I'm arrogant beyond imagination but also honest.


I promise to provide a lot of both attributes in the months to come.


I broke that promise because this was the first and only article


I don't do shame.


I carry the crown of my gayness with pride. It's not a crown made of thorns like Jesus wore, nor is it the yellow Star of David from the Holocaust. It is a beautiful bouquet that I take with me everywhere I go.


This colorful bouquet symbolizes my honesty.


As for my arrogance, well, I don't do "nice," I am not "politically correct," and I bite.


So, be warned.


If you decide to follow this blog, I promise you will be mad at me many times, but I also promise that my words and sharp thoughts will make you think once or twice of truths you held eternal before.


I would definitely not write that last paragraph today.


Most of my views are not "politically correct," but you wouldn't know it from my blog. That's because, unlike 13 years ago, I seek to find what we share in common. I believe that we have far more things that we can agree upon than disagree. I aim to understand my followers and not force my views into their skull. I'm not ashamed of my beliefs, and I've shared them with many readers who addressed me directly. However, I don't want to upset you when you come to my blog. If anything, I want to make you cum when you come to my blog.


The rain stopped, the sky cleared a bit, and so have my thoughts.


I guess at this point you want to know more about me:


I live in Israel in a small suburb of Tel Aviv, which is at the center of Israel. Israelis like to think of Tel-Aviv as a New York with much better food, great weather, hotter guys, and fantastic beaches.


That was a lie.


Tel Aviv has excellent beaches, but I never went there. 13 years ago, I was already a nudist and only went to the nudist beach, 20 miles north of Tel Aviv.


This photo is from 13 years ago at the nudist beach

Always smiling and naked - that's me.
Always smiling and naked - that's me.

If we have such a fantastic NYC version here, why do Israelis keep flying over to NYC?


My take on it is that, like many other things, you need to move far away from what is good in your life so you can appreciate what you have.


My best straight friend (I only have one, I am a genuine hetrophob) had been talking for years about how he wishes to live in NYC for a while.


Well, last year, he got what he wished for.


He lived there for six months, and during that time, I had to listen to his everlasting complaints about how much better Tel Aviv is and how he misses everything about it.


13 years later, we're still good friends but not as close as we used to be. He's straight, but he enjoys how I drool over his hairy, sexy body. He's a nudist like me. When I visit, he steps out of the shower naked. Usually he remains naked or stays in his underwear. We've even slept in his bed a few times, but nothing happened. That story is worth telling too.


But back to me. After all, I am the focal point of this blog post, not my hot, good-looking straight friend.


These days I’d have written: "sexy" instead of just "good-looking."


I'm the by-product of the wonder that is Israel. I'm German from my father's side and Greek from my mother's side. I no longer have a family in either Greece or Germany. The Germans and their European collaborates have murdered all my extended family during WWII.


My dad's family came from this village in Germany

I’ve never visited this place, nor have I any desire to do so.
I’ve never visited this place, nor have I any desire to do so.

My grandma's family came over to Israel (when it was still part of the Ottoman Empire) in the late 18th century. We don't have nobility in Israel (thank goodness). However, having proven, centuries-old roots in this part of the world is as close to nobility as it gets.


Nevertheless, you don't need to address me as "My Lord," You can call me by my name, "Theon."


Israel is a melting point, and I have melted well into it.


In Israel, gays serve in the army, so I did my duty in a special forces small infantry unit for three years. After I'd finished serving my country, I started to follow a path that is common for most young people:

  • Academic Degree,

  • Career,

  • Marriage,

  • House,

  • and kids.

I'm neither married nor have kids but I have everything else.


Israel is also a place of extremes.


We love to always test our beliefs and get very close to the edge. I have done my fair share of that.


I was:

  • pacifist,

  • fascist,

  • atheist,

  • religious

  • top,

  • bottom (so much better).

Today, I would have also added:

  • "carnivore."

  • I'm a passionate vegan

But, when the day ends, I always return to what makes me happy:

  • intimacy,

  • my lovely friends,

  • my amazing parents and family

  • the sweet air of the Golan Heights, and the cool water of the sea of Galilee.

I still love hiking in the Golan

It's started to rain again, and I feel that I have tired you enough with my words for one afternoon. But before I leave, I'm sure you have many more questions for me:


Am I single?


I was single back then. The few months I fucked with my ex-manager ended when I realized that he would never come out of the closet and admit that he loved me and my hole.


Presently, I'm in a relationship with Felix who proudly announces how much he loves me (and privately declares that he loves my hole).

What do I do for a living?


I still work as a software engineer.


What are my hobbies?


Like 13 years ago, I still enjoy reading, hiking, the nudist beach, friends, cooking, and of course fucking (I consider it a hobby because I do it so often).


A new hobby (and also a source of some income) is photography.

Well, dear readers, a bottom's secrets are as many as those found at the bottom of the ocean. I promise more in the next posts to follow.


Hugs & God Bless


Theon

That was it - my first and only blog post.


"Dear readers..." was a terrible way to finish the article.


I should have finished that dull blog post with a photo of my love hole to spice it up a bit.

And I prefer my present-day readers because they keep sending me hot messages like this one:

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winter 2021