An Open Letter to the Hungry Bottoms of the World

Dear Bottoms of the World,

You know I love you guys. I love your round butts, furry or smooth. I love the way you bend over and look back at me with an expectant look in your eyes, or lift up your legs and roll your head back while you close your eyes. The sounds you make excite me—the grunts, the moans, the little whimpers. Sometimes the outright shouts, or the animal noises you’re not even aware you’re making as I slide into you.

I love the way you guys grind and thrust and hump the bed, the way you buck and twitch and thrash as if you’re going to expire, when you shoot with my dick inside you. You guys make my life a pleasure, and for that, this top guy thanks you.

However. May I make one simple request?

If you and I are unacquainted in the flesh—that is, if we’re talking for the first time, whether in some chat room, or via instant messenger, or by email thanks to some personal ad or hookup site—may I ask that one of the first questions out of your mouth not be, “Do you know any other tops?”

I am totally aware that a lot of you guys, if not most, harbor a fantasy of multiple tops invading your hole. Perhaps you dream of a three-way with one guy banging on your back door while the other’s knocking at the front. Maybe you’ve fantasized for a long time about being the guy in the sling in one of those gang-bang videos you’ve watched, where everyone has a turn. That’s all well and good. I think sexual fantasies are healthy. Share them with your partners, absolutely. You should feel free and open with your fuckmates to be able to say whatever comes to mind.

That is, after you’ve met them in person and enjoyed each other. You see, because when we’re in the negotiation phase of things before you and I have met, and you unleash the words “Do you know any other tops,” I’m certain that what you think you’re saying is I have a fantasy of taking multiple dicks—I’m a real nasty boy at heart! But what I’m actually hearing is There’s a high probability I’m a flake whose main objective is to masturbate really quickly while I talk to you. Perhaps it’s my own deep-seated insecurities, but when you persist, I start hearing things like, Your dick isn’t enough for me or even I’m not talking to you because I find you attractive so much as I'm hot at the notion I could meet other people you know.

My suggestion is to throttle it back, tiger.

If you want to mention that you’re open to such things, in the time we’re emailing back and forth, casually mention you’re into groups. If I wanted to invite another top to share your hole for our first meeting, I’d pick up on it at that point. Otherwise, meet me first. See if we’re a good team. Then you can ask your question. It’s only polite.

Also, at that point you’ll have proved a few things to me. You’ll have shown that you show up to an appointed date—which is good to know, because I’ve been left high and dry a couple of times sitting around with a top buddy when a bottom dude I didn’t know chickened out at the last minute. You’ll have shown me that you can take an extended fucking (I hope) and that you won’t be whining for breaks in the action, when you’ve got a group of hard-dicked men all looking to poke you for relief. And finally you’ll have proven that you’re into me, and not just my little black book. Or at least you’ll have feigned it really, really well.

That’s important to me. Because arranging a meeting between you and me is tough enough, sometimes. Getting a third guy involved increases the difficulty. And more guys after that? You’re talking vanishing returns. If you really want me to arrange a three-way for you, I’m more likely to do it after you’ve proved you’re a bottom who can handle it, and for whom I want to go to a certain degree of trouble.

I’ll do it. I’m all for it. I just want to know you’re worth it.

And that’s the kind of thing I’m not likely to know when the only thing you’ve said to me so far is, “Wow dude, amazing dick.”

Until we meet,

The Breeder