Losing My Mojo

I don't know what's been up this last week. I haven't had either a chance to play, or a partner to play with, since Scruffy last Monday. That's a whole week without fucking, people. That's like, the equivalent of ten months in horndog years.

Sunday morning I woke up early with the knowledge that I had until noon to play around. Almost immediately I was hit up online by a twink who's been chasing me hard for the last month. He's had one of those fantasies in which he's blindfolded and waiting ass-up in a dark room, and wanted me to come in and find him and take care of his young butt; the problem we've had was of finding a time we were both free. Yesterday seemed to be that time. He was horny and ready, he told me. I could leave my place at eight and be there at eight-thirty. Awesome, dude, he replied. Call or text me and I'll give you directions. Then he signed out.

I texted, and got into the shower. When I got out, there was no response. I called. No response. He'd signed off his profile, on the website where we'd connected. I knew I had the phone number right, because he'd given it to me before.

So after an hour I wrote the little fucker off. I'd already lined up another guy who seemed eager to meet, a hairy, beefy stud of a man who lived across town and sported a body covered with ink—something I find very sexy. I liked the fact that his chat was direct and to-the-point, and that we went from greeting each other to him inviting me over to fuck him within the space of a couple of minutes. I gave him my phone number. I'm going to log out and hop in the shower, he told me. I'll call you with directions when I get out.


Great, I messaged back. He logged out. And of course I never heard from the guy again.

By the time I manage to arrange a third hookup, even I wasn't expecting the guy to show. After waiting about forty-five minutes from the point he said he was out the door, I realized he wasn't going to.

I don't know what led to my bad luck, yesterday. Maybe it was Mother's Day. Maybe it was the cold weather, or the state of the moon. Maybe I just had the stink of bad sexual mojo about me. I whacked off, and then spent from noon until midnight away from the house, without a computer.

Which is really my long-winded way of saying that I didn't get a chance to write an entry for today. I hereby hope that in recompense, you, the readers, will accept from me, the blogger, these two photos of my goofy grin:

(An image has been removed to comply with Blogger's

draconian new censorship policies: 2/26/15)

(An image has been removed to comply with Blogger's

draconian new censorship policies: 2/26/15)

And that maybe one of you will sex me up today. For real. Ten months! (In horndog years!)