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Diary of A Male Hustler
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Posted:Sep 20, 2016 11:16 pm
Last Updated:Sep 21, 2016 6:08 pm
5793 Views
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I live in a nice neighborhood off Sunset, In West Hollywood. The manager of my complex is an aspiring actor from NYC(eventually got a role in Carpenter's The Thing), who married a blonde knockout that he seems to keep under lock and key. We have a hot tub, but I rarely go. Too much else to see and do. I often take breakfast at the Tropicana Coffee Shop, where I brush shoulder(and skirts)with acting wannabe's. The talk is much better than the coffee. I like to pop over to this neat little bookstore called Book Soup (has real potential), and skim the titles. Very laid back people, there. It's Saturday, my plans are to have an early dinner at Scandia, pick up my date fora little scene at the Nuart, and watch a movie(A Boy and His Dog)if I'm lucky! I picked up my date in West L.A., Hispanic, jet black hair, mid 30's about 5' 7". The scene is, I'might a casting director, she's an aspiring actress. The movie is a hoot about a really dumb and his telepathic, after the world has blown itself up. I find myself identifying with the dog. About three quarters through the chick (no names) whis person in my ear "Mr Cimino (!), I'd do anything to get a part in your next picture." I leaned over and said, "Watch the movie honey, we'll talk later. I sat back, and waited. It her about thirty seconds, for my "date" to get on her knees, unzip my fly, and give me one helluva sophisticated blow job. I'm sure people saw us, even in the dark. TG no one narced. I give it ten minutes, I headed to the john, she followed me. I told her she passed the audition, and then fucked her brains out. Fade to black.
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Diary of A Male Hustler "It Don't Come Easy"
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Posted:Sep 18, 2016 1:05 am
Last Updated:Sep 22, 2016 8:28 am
5913 Views
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I just quit law school. Can you believe it. My folks couldn't. What's more they couldn't believe I gave them back the money the school refunded to me. I told them I had good civil service job lined up, the law wasn't for me right now. All that blarney. Yada, yada, I' m staring at an answering machine that's stacked with inquiries from horny women. Business is good. The hell with the economy, women want big dicks and educated tongues.A good imagination gets your name spread around. And, frankly, yeah the attention I get is a rush. So the bills gets paid, my parents don't call anymore and I'm free to do what I want. And what of Mr. Muscle, my meal ticket? I bought the boy a new package of deluxe condoms, for heavy lifting. There's the phone again, it's that sweet young thing in the Hills. Her CEO sugar daddy is out of town. Gotta take this one. Ciao!
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Politics: It's A Yardstick For Lunatics
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Posted:Sep 16, 2016 1:24 pm
Last Updated:Sep 22, 2016 8:23 am
6041 Views
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Full disclosure. I didn't make that up. It's from that most excellent tune Incense and Peppermints. But it fits what I'm feeling now, then I was getting my first hand job from little Stacey and that song was playing in the background. Martin and Bobby were dead, Nixon was Prez. But who cared. I was at a party, locked in a room with a 6th grade chick who hand grip on my Weiner. Yeah, the journey begins that way. Apologies to all the ancient Chinese philosophers. But I digress. Fast forward to 2016, let me break it down, we've got some fucked up shirt going on in our nation (thank you Mr. Zevon, wherever you are). You take Trump, for example. Is he a Nazi wanna-be, or is he just playing one on TV? I dunno. Clinton? So hell bent on getting back into the Lincoln Bedroom, she puts new meaning into the term, "Will stop at nothing." I mean what's a life-threatening disease. She must think her constituents believe that My Weekend At Bernie's was a documentary. As the late Rodney Danger field might have quipped about today's electorate, "I tell ya, we don't get no respect."
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Harold and Eleanor: Two Mixed Up Bots
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Posted:Sep 16, 2016 2:07 am
Last Updated:Sep 22, 2016 8:25 am
5843 Views
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Earth in the 33 century, same old same old. Save for the fact humanity has evolved to a high plane of existence, and only "sexual animals" left on the planet are the humanoids they left behind. It is noon in Giffith Park and two young humanoids sitting on a bench snacking on DW-40 and Pringles(yes, Pringles, but new and improved, again), Harold and Eleanor are their names. They are about to break up. E: "Harold, I've got something to tell you. H: "Yes, Eleanor my dear? E: "Harold, we've been going together for 200 years and it's just not working out." H: "But Eleanor, we've been so happy together. You laugh at my jokes, we complete passages from the Holy Book of Trump, what.........Eleanor gave him a look that shrivel a Bots g wires, and said "I love for mind, not your body." Harold computed the thousands of responses he could make(it took roughly 30 seconds). He put his hands to his head, llifted off his forehead, and took out the main data core(save for a single memory chip), and handed it to Eleanor, with the words, "Here Eleanor, go fuck my brains out." The logic was flawless. So Eleanor took Harold electronic memory, put it between her already grease stained legs, and did just that. The box went into her box, and she fucked it until it went up in smoke. And she orgasmed. Harold said, "I hope your happy." Since neither of them smoked, Eleanor simply said "Harold, take care of yourself,"rose from the bench, and went to see the monkey exhibit. Meanwhile, humanity's collective conscience that watched, let out a sigh and said, "Fucking Pussies!"
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In Memory of Ben Frank's
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Posted:Sep 14, 2016 6:18 pm
Last Updated:Sep 21, 2016 4:03 pm
5447 Views
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You ever been to Ben Frank's? It's gone now. It was a 24 hour diner on Sunset, in West Hollywood. I lived in the neighborhood, while I attended law school. One night I went there for a late night dinner. Stayed too long. Had one extra refill of coffee, too many. The hands on the wall said 2:30a.m. Yeah, well it's Friday night. No school. What can happen? Surprisingly, a lot. I suppose though, you have to sitting at the right place at the right time. I was sitting at the counter, downing my sixth cup. I thought I felt something on my right knee. Shrugged it off. Drained the cup. Picked up the check, started to lift my as off the seat. A hand reached for my groin. A woman's kind of leathery brown, with a ring on her finger. A voice whispered in my ear, "Don't go." And yes, she still had her hand on my crotch, and yes I very definitely had a noticeable erection. I was all of 24 at the time. So you say the only thing that comes to mind, "Lady, I have to pay this bill." She took her hand off Mr. Muscle, and said "I'll pay it. But I need you tonight, my husband just died, and I'm all alone." I couldn't refuse. We got up to leave, but Mr. Muscle wouldn't cooperate and go down. ''Oh here," the woman said, (we didn't get to proper names until much later)and handed me a folded L.A. Times. She kissed me hard when got to the parking lot, which wasn't smart cause it wasn't safe. I said, 'Let's go." We got her place near Faifax, around 3. When we entered her room, I told to strip. And she did. I unzipped my pants, and she began to cry. Farewell, Ben Frank's.
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Diary of A Male Hustler
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Posted:Sep 14, 2016 5:01 pm
Last Updated:Sep 21, 2016 4:27 pm
5614 Views
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God she's hot. The broad's on all fours, and shaking that blonde stubble puss at my cock. Which is hard now, but will only get harder. Long and only get longer. Yeah, you could say I've done this a few times. It's showtime! I place my hands on Molly's hips(in a few minutes the blood will rush and I won'the remember her name), and slide my dick into her wet cunt. I go in and out several times,just to get the feel of her walls. Molly's still kinda tight for a,(geez I forgot to ask)25 y.o. Anyway, Mr Muscle likes what it feels. He grows, I can feel it. An inch? Two? And then the blood gorge comes, my cock thickens, Molly's embrace. Lovingly? Greedily? Then it happens. It always does. I lose my mind.My thought turn to Jello. It's Mr. Muscle's show now. I start to mash pussy, faster and faster, harder and harder. My head is filling with cum, thank God for the numbness now, cause it used to hurt like hell. I know the slut is screaming something, but I can't hear. All I know is she's grinding back, violently. Good, the bitch felt something. She wants more hurt. Mr. Muscle is pleased. Give the audience it's money's worth. So I fuck hard, I fuck long (I have a watch so I know), I go deep. She's screams "Drain your cock in me!" Funny, that I hear. And so I do. Another night, another satisfied customer
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