Impure thoughts

These pics for Sean's Dogably Pawfect Saturday are all of dogs who serve in police K-9 units.  These brave dogs are often sent into the line of fire to apprehend a suspect or to save a life.  I challenge any dog lover to read these stories of Canadian police dogs killed in the line of duty without crying.


Other ramblings:

1. After living with me for five months, my son is now alternating every two weeks between my wife's house and mine.  So far, they're not fighting constantly as they did before.  My daughter also spends about half her time with me.
2. I hope to now have some "alone time" to host the many hot (and interesting) men who want to spend time with me. 
3. Our legal separation and subsequent filing for divorce has been stalled by my wife for over four months "It's too hard!"  Recently, we've gone back and forth with our 40-page draft Separation Agreement several times, correcting dozens of errors, removing unwanted clauses added by the mediator and penciling in new ones suggested by my lawyer.  Of course, my wife added a few more (unreasonable) demands but I think that our agreement is ready for our final signatures.  Woo-hoo!!
4. My school year is going really well... fantastic students!  But for the first time in my career, I constantly have to banish "impure thoughts" from my mind regarding my hot 18 year old male students.  This is an unwanted and unexpected side effect of my summer spent hooking up with 22 year old men.... my new reality of experiencing young men as sexual objects.  (But please don't regard this confession as a "red flag".. I will NEVER have sex with a student, ever.)
5. The 24 year old Perfect Physical Specimen is anxious to get naked with me again but still insists that he's straight.  He messages me every day to chat and increases the stakes each time, "When we're together, we can kiss if you want.... but no tongue!  I'm straight, you know!"    And the next day he'll say, "It would be hot if I lubed my ass and you rubbed your hard cock between my ass cheeks.... but I don't want anything up my ass!"   Too funny!  But he's a sweet guy.

TMI: Drink! Drink! Drink!



One week after my needle biopsy, I am feeling perfectly fine.  My cum still is bright red with blood but now it's mixed 50/50 with normal-looking cum.  Whew! 

On the hookup front, I haven't logged onto POF much since my biopsy so the messages from the delicious 22 year-old university men have slowed down considerably. 

As an online friend helpfully pointed out during a phone conversation, "The university boys are probably all having sex with each other ... so they're not interested in you any more!"   I said, "Oh, kiss my ass!  I've still got it, buddy!!"

But I've been getting more contacts than ever from interesting (and hot) men in the 26 - 32 year old age group which I have have been pursuing.  But since I'm back at work and with one or two of my kids living with me most of the time, it's difficult to even schedule hookup times.  To be done properly, this slut phase should be a full-time job unto itself.

Also, my recovery from the needle biopsy has wreaked havoc with my hookup opportunities.  It's too soon for me to bottom (even if I wanted to) and I can't do anything that would involve me cumming because of the blood. 

Sean of Just a Jeep Guy has a weekly Too Much Information feature.  Here are my answers for this week:

1. Are you a cheap date?   Yes!  After one beer, I start to slur my words and walk unevenly.  I'd probably toss my cookies on the third one. 
2. What is your favourite drink?   I'm non-selective.... put anything alcoholic in front of me and I'll drink it!   But given a choice, I will invariably have a dark, full-bodied beer.  My favourite liquor is rye whiskey (called Canadian whiskey in the USA) with ginger ale.
3. Worst experience?   At age 22,  we graduates had a big party in our university chemistry lab featuring punch made with gallons of 100% ethyl alcohol purchased from a chemical supplier.  This was served in a big green garbage pail. Classy!!
   
   I decided to "let loose" because I had graduated against all odds, having survived my year as a cancer patient part way through my programme.  I drank and drank and drank.  I ended up falling-over drunk and spending the night throwing up on the front lawn of the university campus. 
4. Beer goggles?   No...  I've never hooked up while drunk but if I did, I'd be looking for some sweet, nice young guy regardless of what he looked like.
5. What is the funniest thing you've ever done while drunk?     After my going-away party, I was walking home by myself in the middle of winter (-20 degrees) at 2:00 am.  Although I was pissed-drunk, I decided to climb a full-height telephone pole to steal an green glass insulator as a souvenir of the small town I was leaving.  I can't believe I didn't break my neck!!   I was 26, old enough to know better.  It's a miracle I didn't break my neck, freeze to death or both!

BONUS:
Ever drunk dial?   Sorry, no.  I'm pretty boring....

Cumming blood (NSFW)

How's that for a gross-out title?  But in the interests of full disclosure, it behooves me to continue to tell whole story of my prostate journey.

I was pretty upbeat after the success of my needle biopsy and my exciting day in Toronto.   But this weekend, I was getting extremely discouraged, depressed even, about the possibility of having cancer. 

I've often heard that waiting for biopsy results is the worst part of the whole process.... the uncertainty of it all.   Actually, that is NOT true.  I know from first-hand experience that a positive biopsy result is far worse because it leads to such atrocities such as  surgeries, radiation treatments, chemotherapy, recurrences and hundreds of hours spend in cancer clinic waitings.   Been there, done that.

I am feeling fine!  My antibiotics are almost finished with no signs of infection and I have no discomfort at all.  

For the first time since the procedure, I wanked off  yesterday morning to test things out.  I was absolutely confident that everything would work just fine and it did, thank you very much. 

But  I was pretty grossed out to see what looked like bright red blood squirting out instead of transparent, colourless semen.   I know it wasn't 100% blood but it was pretty disturbing just the same.   All the other liquids and solids originating "down there" continue to contain blood as well.  I can't wait for it to stop!

To distract myself, I attended a running race but as a spectator, not a competitor.   I was overwhelmed by the hot men running by with beautiful runner's legs and asses.   The vast majority were gorgeous specimens of manhood and mainly in my favourite 30s and 40s age group.

Many of the older guys wore spandex shorts or tights.   While their bulges were fantastic, the curves tracking along the backs of their calves, thighs and asses made me swoon.  And it wasn't just that these athletes looked fantastic in spandex;  it was more the self-confidence that they had in wearing it.

The men wearing loose runner's shorts were also hot in a different way;   all those bouncing cocks and balls made me horny as hell!!!

A few 20-something guys wore running tights with baggy basketball shorts over them!  Too funny!   "Oh, no!  Someone is going to see my wee-wee!!"

But it was bittersweet as I could look but not touch ....  let alone take any of those beautiful cocks into my mouth.   But watching those beautiful men did the trick;  I forgot about my prostate troubles for a while.

Prostate Needle Biopsy

This entire post consists of "too much information" but most men don't know anything about their prostate, so here it goes!  I've been procrastinating about writing this because my visit to The Prostate Centre was very stressful, bringing back horrible memories of my year as a cancer patient when I was nineteen.

Initial Assessment:  Sept. 10
My doctor (the head of the department) did a quick digital exam and pronounced my prostate "smooth."  He added that a digital exam can only reach the bottom part of the prostate.  "Smooth" is a good thing;  "lumpy" would be very bad indeed.  I told him that my own doctor has said it was "puffy" which might indicate an infection.  He said firmly, "Well it's not... it's perfectly normal!"

He was highly reassuring, saying that only 1 - 2% "at the very most" of patients in my situation end up in a "difficult situation" which I took to mean a massive spreading of the cancer and  death.   He said that unless the Gleason Score of a prostate cancer was high (which gives an indication of how aggressive it is ), they prefer a non-interventionist approach and generally do no treatment at all, no surgery, no Brachytherapy.   Most prostate cancer patients will die of old age long before their cancers ever become a problem.... but in this respect, my relatively young age (50)  is very much working against me.  

Although he said needle biopsies are a bit random, it is the only way to find cancer cells, so I agreed to have one.  He pondered my wildly-fluctuating PSA levels  (Jan. 9.0, Apr. 6.0, July 19.5, Sept. 8.5) and said, "Hmmm .... it might be infectious," meaning, I think, a condition like prostatitis.

Needle Biopsy:  Sept. 19
The required "prep" for the biopsy is as undignified a thing as one could  imagine.   I arrived at my in-law's Toronto house at 10:30 pm following my sweet gay date with an online friend.   Midnight found me in their tiny shower enclosure with my Fleet enema kit, doing a modified shoulder stand,  bum pointing heavenwards.

Trying not to wake up the whole household, I reached around to squirt the solution of (I think) saline, mineral oil and phosphates into my asshole.  A few minutes later, the explosive emptying of my lower colon gave the most fantastic poo-gasm!    A nice 'empty' feeling with a  poophoria after-glow.  An unexpected bonus!

TRUS (trans rectal ultra sound) probe

The staff at the Prostate Centre were highly professional and efficient.   Within minutes of arriving, I was on a treatment table in a modified fetal position with my rear end pointing upwards at a 45 degree angle.  Members of the team crowded around and in turn, examined my asshole with great interest.

A slightly uncomfortable digital exam followed.  I`ve had lots of fingers up my butt in bed and in doctor`s offices but never quite as... er... deeply.... nor as firmly.   The TRUS (trans rectal ultra sound) probe was inserted with lots of lube and was angled this way and that to give the best possible image. 

This was quite comfortable as the TRUS was much skinnier than the couple of cocks I`d had up there... thank God I had tried being a bottom!  I`m sure that a bottom-virgin straight guy would find this procedure extremely distressing.

The doctor announced he was going to freeze my prostate with a local anesthetic.  I didn`t even feel the needle going in.   Shortly afterwards, I heard a sharp SNAP!  SNAP!  SNAP! .... just like the sound made by a staple gun.

He had started using "the biopsy gun — a hand-held device with a spring-loaded, slender needle removes a cylinder of tissue (about 1/2" by 1/16") in a fraction of a second. A sliding sheath opens once the needle enters the prostate, closes onto a sample of tissue and the needle is withdrawn." 

I asked, "Is this it?"  The doctor said, "Yes, but I've just started."  Such was their skill that I was completely pain-free .... only the deepest samples resulted in some discomfort.  Dental visits to have a tooth cavity filled are far more uncomfortable.  Other men (including my father) reported feeling excruciating pain during their biopsies and leaving the table drenched in sweat. 

I closed my eyes and counted... twelve, thirteen, fourteen.... and we're done!  Woo-hoo!!  They made me wait for a hour and then I was off on my fun, 'free day' in Toronto starting with meeting Jeffrey for coffee on Church Street.  

After-care:  My rear end was a bit tender to sit for a few hours afterwards ..... rather like when I lost my bottom virginity, but it quickly recovered.   I'll be on an antibiotic for several days and will see traces of blood in my poop, pee and cum for a couple of weeks at least.  

After the procedure, I asked my doctor, "I'm gay, right?  How long do I have to wait before I can be penetrated anally again?"   (Jeff had suggested I ask this)   The doctor didn't bat an eye, "WHAT A GREAT QUESTION!!"  he boomed with enthusiasm and a smile.   "Give it 7 - 10 days and you'll be fine!"

I'm back in Toronto on October 11th for the results... and I will find the waiting to be pretty tense.

At the nude beach

This is a timed post as I'm Toronto getting a needle biopsy my prostate.  Ouch!  Details to follow.

I've been to Toronto countless times but never knew there was a gay clothing-optional beach until I read about it in this post written by The Gay Groom, blogger and published author.   I LOVED my time at the nude beach.... it was the second-favourite thing I did during my Big Gay Weekend.  My favourite thing was having coffee with Jeffrey himself.

I emerged from the treeline and stepped onto Hanlon's Point Beach... I was instantly the centre of attention of about a dozen naked guys who looked up expectantly.  Will he or won`t he?

I suddenly had a change of heart but then thought, "What the hell... no use being chickenshit about it!".  Of all the gay things I've done over the past year (especially my visit to Steamworks the previous night), this was very tame.   So, I ripped off all my clothes and spent the afternoon enjoying the cool breezes caressing my private parts and the hot naked men around me.

I also very much enjoyed (I'll admit) being checked out by the naked men as well.  I do have a bit of an exhibitionist streak as my regular blog readers will know.   I did not appreciate, as Jeffrey wrote, ".... the influx of lookie-loos – clothed folks trying to get a cheap thrill walking on the beach.." 

It was a coolish day so only about 12-15 guys were naked that afternoon ranging in age from 20 to 60, but the majority were young and very hot.  An equal number of young gay men were wearing sexy Speedos, so it was all good. 

Some of the naked guys around me:  a white guy in his mid-40s to my left with his twinky Asian boyfriend ....  to my upper right, an amazing older man (late 50s) had a bit of a belly but with the calves, thighs and ass of a Greek  God.  Fantastic!  My favourite man of the afternoon!   Farther to my right was a trio of ripped Hispanic guys in their late 20s, not naked but wearing Speedos and very easy on the eyes.

A late 20s couple arrived with an infant child.  The young woman stripped naked... and she was quite attractive.... and I waited expectantly for her hunky husband to do the same.  I was thinking, "Come on buddy!  Take your clothes off ... please, please, please... you can do it!"  and he didn't!  How fucked up is that?   His lovely wife was naked all afternoon, cavorting in the lake, and he sat on the beach wearing long pants and a shirt... Darn, darn, darn,!!!

The ripped Hispanic dude walked past twice.... the second time, I noticed him holding a IPhone in the palm of his hand facing me.... hmm... did he just take my picture?  Who cares?  I rather liked the idea of him pleasuring himself later using the picture of my pasty-white lard arse.

During the afternoon, I was cruised a couple times a tubby, elderly man in his 70s, fully clothed, who'd circle around me and then stop and stare from about eight feet away..... he'd then retreat to the treeline behind me and wait hopefully, thinking I was going to follow.  If I wasn't so law-abiding, I would have thrown some rocks at him to get him to move along.   Annoying!!  On his third cruising attempt, he tried to strike up a conversation but I turned my back on him and he gave up.   

It wasn't his age or unattractiveness which was the issue;  had he been naked or at least wearing swimwear, I would have talked to him.

On my way back to the ferry, I decided to bravely walk the length of the beach naked, carrying my clothing to repay all the naked guys who'd provided such sweet eye-candy all afternoon.  As I passed by an attractive late 30's couple, I noticed the husband (who was wearing a coral pink micro-Speedo -- the gayest swimming suit in the world) staring at me intently as I walked past.  His eyes followed me as I continued far down the beach.  I thought, "Is she clueless?  How could his wife NOT know that he was attracted to men?"  Jeffrey later pointed out to me that she probably was well aware of her husband's M2M attraction and had made it a part of their marriage.

I very much look forward to being naked at Hanlon's Point Beach again.....

Clothed - Unclothed

There is no time for a proper post this morning as I've been very busy with school, family activities and preparations for yet another trip to Toronto.  I'm arriving at suppertime on Tuesday and will be having what might be called my first 'gay date' with a horny 32 year old.

Rather than hooking up immediately, we going out to dinner after which he will deliver me to my in-laws house by 10:00 pm.   That will be different, being with a young guy and NOT having his pants down around his ankles within the first five minutes of our meeting!

We've been chatting on pof.com for months and he's phoned me on numerous occasions for 'phone sex.'  Too funny!  But he's also very sweet and uncertain of the path he should take.

The real reason for my visit:  at 8:00 am Wednesday, I will getting a needle biopsy on my prostate at the Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital.... Yikes!!  I'll be blogging about it later this week.


I stumbled upon the coolest website,  speci-men.tumblr.com/, with photos of guys with and without their clothes.  In my the present state of my obsession with men, every time I see a reasonably attractive guy in public, I try to imagine what he looks like without his clothes on.

In fact, this site reminds me of my visit to Toronto's nude beach last week (recommended by my new friend, published author and blogger, Jeffrey) as I was able to see plenty of ordinary-looking men with their clothes on, only to be amazed and delighted by their magnificent cocks, asses and legs which were revealed when they got naked.   I will be writing about my afternoon at the nude beach on Wednesday in a timed post.

My night at Steamworks bathhouse

This pic from the Steamworks website

I left Flash at 1:30 am and walked up the block in the rain to Steamworks;  I couldn't show up at my in-law's unannounced at that hour and I had no place else to go.

I expected a dirty, sleazy place with the floor sticky with cum, full of fat, elderly guys who couldn't get sex any other way.  I apologize for being cruel, but that's what I thought.  I couldn't have been more wrong.

The entrance was modern, clean and attractive with security systems much in evidence.  I paid $30 for the smallest cubicle (the last one available!) and made my way down a confusing labyrinth of dimly-lit hallways full of switchbacks and dead ends, past glass-walled rooms with men making out in showers and hot tubs.   Dozens of naked men were in view at all times, most with a thick white towels tied around themselves while porn played on several flat-screen TVs .

All the men were gorgeous specimens younger than me, the majority with lovely muscles and shaved chests. About 40% of the clientele were magnificent black man  (I assume on the 'down-low'.)   The rest were white men in their 30s and 40s with quite a few twinky Asian boys and young frat boys thrown into the mix.

Most disconcerting of all was the absolute silence except for the head-thumping techno-pop music.  NO ONE SPOKE but somehow managed to hook up by some  non-verbal signals.    Naked men were everywhere, prowling around after their prey; others were kissing or sucking cock surrounded by an audience, many jerking off as they watched.

Other men were waiting in cubicles with the door open, either on their hands and knees, doggie fashion, with their assholes pointed at the door  (EWWW!!) or on their backs, legs spread wide open, playing with their cocks.

In larger room, a muscular black man was topping another black man, doggie fashion... just pounding away, while several men watched, tugging at their cocks.

I circled around and around, hopelessly lost and increasingly terrified uncomfortable, trailed by a couple of naked men.  Other men deliberately brushed up against me in the narrow hallway.  I returned to the front desk for directions and then found my cubicle.  Several guys watched me closely as I fumbled with my key with trembling fingers in the semi-darkness, finally collapsing into the room and locking the door behind me.

To my surprise, it was very nice.  There was a smallish single bed with fresh sheets, pillow, a bedside table with a few condoms on it and a full length mirror installed horizontally on the wall opposite the bed.  Wow!  It would be hot to have a mirror like that at home!

I rested a bit to get a little less freaked out and then made several brave and naked forays into Sodom and Gomorrah ... joking... scurrying back to the safety of my cubicle between each.  I was again followed by hot men, watched closely by many others with some brushing up against me as we passed.  Hot!  And scary!

On my various trips,  I found my way through the maze, went to the washroom and had a shower.  In the glass-walled shower room, I was joined instantly by two hot guys silently watching me and fondling their cocks but not speaking.   I didn't know any of the signals or protocols.... was I to just grab their cocks and go for it?  Disconcerting!

I found it intensely erotic, sexually-charged, terrifying and depressing all at the same time.  But I was beyond exhausted, having been awake for over 20 hours.  I retreated to my cubicle promising myself that I would hook up with some guys in the morning and slept soundly for over five hours.

I awoke at 7:00 am with one of the worst headaches I ever had.  It was excruciating to even blink my eyes, probably caused by the beer I drank earlier, dehydration, the techno music thumping continuously and a strong smell of pot.  I emerged from my cubicle and, incredibly, there were as many hot cruising guys as before.   I drank some water and had another shower (again, with an audience) but my headache was worse than ever.

I emerged into the fresh air and morning sunshine of Church Street feeling like Dorothy leaving the Land of Oz. 

I want to go back to Steamworks one day... I need to give it another try.

Back to school

Here's another TMI post from Sean of Just a Jeep Guy.   The pics are from nakedbookshelf.tumblr.com.

1. What level of education have you earned? Where?
I have a four-year Bachelor of Engineering degree (chemical) and worked in the chemical industry for eight years before I decided I didn't really like it.  I then quite my job at the age of 30 and went back to school to get my one year Bachelor of Education degree.... the best decision I ever made!   I don't want to disclose my university as it was in the town where I now live.

2. If you went to college, did you join the Greek system?
No... I don't think it existed where I went to school.  Anyway, I would never have fit in to such a elitist group.

3. If money and time weren't an issue, would you go back to school? What would you study?
I always was an excellent student but there is nothing taught at universities which would be of interest to me now.  I would only consider returning to acquire a skill such as welding or gourmet cookery.  Going to art college would be very cool as well.

4. Ever make it under the bleachers?
No, I never made it anywhere, with anyone.  I was a virgin (hetero and homo) throughout my college years when I was aged 18 to 22.  For my second stint at university, I juggled my studies with looking after a baby while my wife worked full time.  I "made it" in the sense that my wife and I were having sex every day at that time.

5. Knowing what you know now, what would you change about your education?
Two things I would change.
(a)   I went to my home-town university so that I could live at home to save money.  I deeply regret missing that out-of-town college experience.

(b)   I went into chemical engineering without having any idea what it involved.   I should have done much more research into the selection of my major and even taken a year off school to explore my options.

Bonus
What was your best or worst experience in school?
I loved every aspect of my schooling from Kindergarten through to university;  it was all good!  

My worse experience was becoming gravely ill with a malignant melanoma which had metastasized widely during my second year of university;  I wasn't expected to live.  I missed half a year and spent the next two years catching up and coping with the after-effects.  Through it all, I refused to be set back in my studies and was proud of the fact that I graduated at the same time as my peers.

Friday night in The Village

My flight arrived quite late in the evening (Sept. 7) and I went directly Toronto's  Church Street.  It had been a exhausting several days with the opening week of classes, supply teacher preparations and my 3500 km drive earlier in the week.

At that moment, I decided that I did NOT want to spend the night in the bed of some big city guy, as sweet as that might have been.  During hookups in my own town, I very much feel a 'safety net' around me.  I know where I am at all times and invariably have family or friends nearby who I could call on if things went bad.

As well, my visit to the cancer hospital on Monday was starting to weigh heavily on my mind.  I was filled with dread at the prospect of becoming a cancer patient yet again and just wasn't in the mood for a hookup.

At 11:00 pm, Church Street was packed with attractive people of all descriptions having fun.  A gorgeous Amazon-like black woman strutted by in a black leather bustier, micro-mini skirt and stilettos.  But then I noticed that the miniskirt did not cover the big bulge in the front of her white panties.  I thought, "Whoa!  That`s pretty fucked up!!" and immediately felt guilty for judging her / him for being different than me.  Aren't we LGBTQ folk supposed to be supportive of each other?

I peeked into the Black Eagle bar:  nearly empty.   The new Church-on-Church dance club was packed with people spilling out onto the sidewalk but they were mainly 20 year old guys and girls from the nearby university..... no place for an old fart like me.

I spent about two hours at Flash which was about 1/3 full.  I LOVED it.... drinking beer at the front row of the stage and watching some of the most gorgeous guys I've ever seen, working the stripper pole with amazing athleticism.  Muscular, sensual, handsome, big-cocked.... they had it all!  Several older customers locked eyes with me but I didn't want to pursue a hookup so I ignored then. 

My favourite stripper boy man came by to sell me a lap dance;  a bit shorter than me, lovely muscles, olive-skinned (Italian, I think) brown eyes and hair, beefy thighs, nice fat cock and a voluptuous ass.  Icing on the cake:  he was the only stripper with body hair.... beautiful!

So as not to waste his time, I told him that I would not be paying for a lap dance but he said, "That's okay" and stayed to chat for about 15 minutes.  Shirtless Hottie Stripper stood facing me while we talked and put his arms around my waist, our cocks grinding into each other.  It was so hot!  I got hard instantly.  I wrapped my arms around his waist and cupped his buttocks with my hands.... I had no other place to put my hands, honest!

I have a great interest in the stories of the stripper guys and most are willing to answer my questions, such as:

-age
-home town
-day job?
-do you like stripping?
-do you prefer stripping for women or men?
-future job or education plans?
-gay/bi/straight?
- when did you know you were gay?
-does your family know you're gay?
-is your family accepting?
-what do you think about being hit on by elderly men?

Hottie Stripper was 26 and had worked as a roofer (that explains that smokin' hot body!) but the pay was very poor so now stripping was his only job.  He earned far more money stripping and 'being nice' to customers.  He preferred stripping for men  because they were more appreciative.

Hottie was training to be an electrician.  His father was fully accepting of his gayness;  his mother, not so much.  She still was sad about the grandchildren she would never have.   All the while he was talking, I was caressing his beautiful ass under his silky undies.... OMFG!   so hot!!

At 1:00 am, I left the club alone.   It was pouring rain so I walked up the street, summoned up my courage and went into the Steamworks bathhouse.   To be continued in my next post.

Soooo tired

I arrived home from Toronto at 2:00 a.m. and am just heading off to school six hours later.....  soooooo tired!   This is just the cumulative exhaustion brought on by driving 3500 km the previous weekend and by a busy first week of teaching.

I had a fantastic time but it turned out to NOT be a particularly sleazy weekend.   The high points included having coffee with a handsome and charismatic author and spending an afternoon on the 'gay end' of the nude beach on Toronto Island.

I had a great time at a couple of gay stripper clubs including my favourite place, Remingtons, and spent most of the night at the Steamworks bathhouse which was terrifying WAY BEYOND my comfort zone. Also, I spent most of one day at a university campus (hottie frat boys and lots of nerdy ones. Woot!)

On Monday, I had my *sshole poked by a nice older gentlemen but this was during my highly stressful visit to the cancer hospital.  I'm returning to the Prostate Centre next week for a medical procedure. Details on all of this to follow. 

Masculine, hairy men

This is a timed post which I prepared several days ago.   I am in Toronto in the middle of my big gay weekend and am completely computer-less.

I like to post around every second day to maintain the traffic flow to my blog, so here is a "filler" post with no content at all but with some pics of beautiful men from hot4hairy.tumblr.com/. 

Back in class

The start of my school year as gone exceptionally well;  I enjoy every moment that I'm front of my classes.   One class consists entirely of special needs 14-year-old boys, part of a gender-segregated experiment being conducted by my school division.   So far, I'm finding this group of goofy boys a lot of fun.  I'm optimistic that it will be a good learning experience for them.  

On the other end of the spectrum, I have a senior class of university-bound students, the majority of whom are young men, 18 years old.   So much has changed in my own mindset since the last time I was in front of a senior class in June.

I spent most of the summer hooking up with young men, 21 - 24, or at least being "on the hunt" for them.  I'm now finding it a bit jarring being in class because my grade 12 students are not that different than the young men I've been having sex with ..... a thought that I have to constantly banish from my head.

On the hookup front, I've been too busy and exhausted to do much entertaining this week.  But I've been swamped... swamped I tell you!.... with many offers on pof.com.   The offers have mainly been from young men who've come from other towns to attend our local university and technical college.  I've also heard from a few older guys in their late 20s or early 30s.... men in their "prime", I think. 

Away from their own small towns, I think they've decided to test out their same-sex attraction in the relative anonymity of our "big city."   I admire these young men for their resolve and for their horniness.   At their urging, I've made a few tentative plans to get together with some of them in the weeks to come.   Many of these hookups don't end up happening but it's nice to be asked by these sweet young men.

I asked a cute 21 year old, yet again, why do you want to hook up with a man 50 years older than you?  I loved his answer. 

"Well, girls my age all go for the older guys ... so why shouldn't a guy like me do the same thing?    I just don't trust guys my own age."

I've spent much time online planning my big gay weekend in \Toronto and getting excellent advice from many guys online.  I fly out today after school;  my only concern is that I will be too tired to do everything that I want to do.

My Big Fat Gay Weekend

I have my first appointment next Monday at a major prostate cancer centre .   As I've already blogged, I have not been diagnosed with anything but have had some worrisome PSA results and a strong family history of the disease.

Coming from a remote small town with no gay scene,  I plan to make the most of my visit to the big city.   It was just over over a year ago when I first went into some clubs in Toronto's gay village.  

I was the ultimate in middle-aged gay virgins and had never kissed a man or held a man's hand, let alone taken a cock in my mouth or up my ass.  I was absolutely scared to death .... but what a difference a year makes!  Now, I'm a million times more confident as a gay man in my desirability and sexual skills.  So, here's my plan:

1. Fly to Toronto on Friday evening and proceed directly to Church Street, arriving at 10:00 pm ...... still a bit early for 'the scene.'
2. Go to one or more of the gay clubs such as Flash, Black Eagle (leather) or Woody's, I'm not sure which.   I have no agenda or real expectations but hope to get into some mischief.
3. Friday night:  I have no idea where I will sleep on Friday night but I hope to find a warm bed somewhere, preferably with a hot man in it.  I am far too broke to pay for a hotel room.  Who knows?  I might end up on a bench at the bus station.
4. Saturday:  take a 3 hour bus ride to a small town for a "duty" family visit.  If I'm too tired, I might sleep there overnight.
5. Saturday p.m.:  return to Toronto where I might attend a Pitbull Toronto event.  I don't know where I would sleep but something will.... er.... arise.  Correction:  the Pitbull event was Sept.1...
6. Sunday:  I'll get an all-day transit pass and have a free day roaming Toronto, something I love to do but I don't know where or what.   I do plan to buy a couple of discreet Pride T-shirts to wear to class this semester.
7. Sunday late afternoon:  go to the home of my wife's brother and his family where I will stay overnight.  They are fantastic people who extended the warmest welcome to their gay soon-to-be-ex brother-in-law.   Upon hearing of my health problems, my wife (to her credit) arranged for me to stay with her family in Toronto.  Should I end up having surgery for prostate cancer, I will stay with them for my weeks of convalescence.
8. Monday morning: go to my consultation with one of the leading urologists in Canada.   I'm reasonably confident that he will react well when I tell him I'm gay.  My prostate  has received more attention in the past six months than in the previous 49.5 years combined so my gayness could have medical implications regarding my prostate.
9. Fly home to Hicksville, arriving in my own bed with my little doggie at midnight.
10. Tuesday morning:  haul my sorry arse out of bed at 6:30 a.m. and get ready to face my 70 students who will have no idea what a weekend of debauchery (I hope) their teacher had.

Road Trip

An update:  Since Friday morning at 6:00 am, two of my kids and I have driven some 2500 km (1500 mi), half over a remote Canadian highway... endless rocks and trees, trees and rocks.   It's now 6:00 am on Labour Day Monday and we're still 1,000 km from home.

We spent one amazing day (10 am to 11 pm) at a major attraction with roller coasters, water slides and the like where I was overwhelmed with views of hot guys in every direction..... delicious college boys, adorable gay couples openly being affectionate to each other and many, many sexy daddies.  Not one fattie in the bunch!

It's been four days since I've been with a guy and I'm craving some closeness with a man, some full-body naked contact and kissing .... I want to suck some cock, to hold a man's balls my mouth so bad.  I'm in cock worship with drawl.    I can't imagine I went for 15 years without having sex with another person (and 48 years with no M2M action) ..... now, I can't live with out it.

We dropped off my middle daughter at a leading Canadian university (the main purpose of our trip) where I saw shirtless frat boys galore in equal measure with nerdy-cute ones... and lots of their sexy daddies.
 Torture!  ..... now that I'm having sex with a wider range of men, I find them ALL unbearably attractive.