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Brad In The Bronx...... 🔶🔶🔶
 
The paradox of paradise...
...and thoughts from a Brad, in The Bronx.
This should be interesting.

I'm just keeping the chops sharpened and having some fun.
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Private Mail Box
Posted:Jul 23, 2020 4:01 am
Last Updated:Sep 9, 2020 9:38 pm
3163 Views

Quite a few bloggers have these - 'private boxes'- installed, so I thought I'd build mine. I've read where they can attract confidential messages. We'll see about that, won't we?
1 comment , 4 Pending
I.ve Been Freelancing... But She Found Out...
Posted:Sep 24, 2020 9:17 am
Last Updated:Sep 28, 2020 9:42 am
1256 Views
I've been freelancing as a non-tasked member of society, for the last three weeks.

Some, might use the label - 'unemployed'. Friends have branded me - 'the sloth'. I call myself - 'in transition'. My neighbour's dogs? They don't give a shit.

I offered to walk Mike's canines without really thinking things through. It's a challenge taking two 3-year-old labs out on a leash. You know how much they weigh?

Anyway, it gets me out of the house and into the real world. Or at least that portion that contains other owners. Yesterday (as usual), we all met at the park up the road. Excitedly sniffing each other's private parts was the first order of business - for the dogs I meant.

The humans stood around talking about the latest political bullshit going down and there's plenty of that crap to throw about, isn't there? But it's what happened when I got home that whipped my head back.

Settling into my abode, I opened up my emails and there it sat - a note from my ex, Vanessa. She asked me how things were, if I was alright and if I wanted to talk. She'd heard that I'd been 'let go'. My first thought was, "How the fuck did she find out?", my second thought was more sinister.

"Why the fuck does she care?"

It's not as if we're pen pals or call each other up. In fact we never interact. There's no money at stake; the split was uncontested. Does she want to throw it in my face that I left beautiful San Diego and I'm thirty feet from sleeping on a dingy curb in the Bronx? Is she trying to find out if I need help, so she can gloat?

The tone of the letter was what surprised me. It was caring and sensitive, and completely unlike our last conversations. She'd strung a set of touching and empathic sentences together - almost as if she cared.

Now I've gotta come up with a sensible and balanced reply. If I didn't know better, I'd swear Van was up to something. I just haven't figured out what.

I'm open to any theories.
9 Comments
The Writing Was on the Wall... But I Was Staring At The Screen...
Posted:Sep 9, 2020 10:00 am
Last Updated:Sep 11, 2020 1:21 am
1765 Views
One of those motivational gurus (I don't recall which one), has always suggested that we should visualize our future and THAT'S the one that will materialize for us. THAT'S the one we'll be drawn to. I think I messed up.

When I moved from San Diego to New York last year, the COVID bug was the farthest thing from my mind. The industry I'm in is relatively stable and my future here was bright. Well, the shit finally hit the fan. It seems that not only am I looking to get laid - but I'm now also searching for a new job.

Not that I'm totally surprised, mind you. I had a gut feeling about how things were playing out during this viral home office confinement. The vibe just didn't feel copacetic. I kept thinking it was a figment of my imagination. I've been around long enough to have seen the writing on the wall - but I avoided it. Much like that clueless moth drawn to a burning candle, I was hypnotically sucked into it, that - warm and fuzzy - complacent feeling.

Rather than do something proactive, I waited. Silly me. It's always easier to find a job when you already have one, ironic isn't it? I should have, I could have... *yeah*... I thought I was untouchable. And lo and behold, the pink slip was delivered - professionally - via Zoom.

At least I didn't have to go through the humiliation of carrying that fucking cardboard box through the company hallways.

So, how do I prioritize my immediate needs? Why am I posting a blog rather than an updated resume? Should I answer that woman who just flirted with me or get online and start perusing the want ads? Choices - we all have to make them.

The generous package ‘corporate’ gave me will keep me off the streets for a while. In the meantime, I'm drawn to this 40 something bombshell in Queens who's been perving me for over a week. Do you think if I keep visualizing her on-screen profile, we'll be magically drawn together?

At the very least, I'm now free to spend endless hours on this site to finally fulfill my REAL life goals.


11 Comments
What Do Moonlit Beaches and Sleepless Nights... Have To Do With Greyhound Busses...
Posted:Aug 25, 2020 8:46 am
Last Updated:Aug 26, 2020 1:23 pm
2091 Views
Vanessa and I did a lot of travelling before we were married, had , settled down, and got divorced. But even our best laid plans messed up once in a while.

We were somewhere in South America...

I knew the look on Vee's face. I'd noticed it for days. She was bored and exhausted, and had lost the will for adventure. She wanted to go home and had been busting my balls with nagging hints. I had many choices when I turned to her... with the one I'd selected.

"You wanna leave? Leave. I told you. I'm meeting my friend in Caracas. Take your stuff and go!"

"You're such an asshole," Vee sobbed. She clutched her knapsack, looked back at me, and made her way up the aisle of that weathered bus.

The Greyhound slowly eased forward and hissed. With a gust of diesel, plumes of black smoke pushed through rusted exhaust pipes and billowed thick - in the breathless hot air. The bus rumbled down along that dirt road. Even if I'd turned to stare, brown dust would have blocked my view.

For months, we'd circled the equator as a couple.
We were fueled by a wistful dream and the fumes of endless, sleepless nights. We'd shared a thousand miles and lay on dozens of white sandy beaches. We'd gazed at countless bleached moons; each one brimmed with youthful lust.

My arrogance never let me think twice, of her decision to break our travel plans. Two weeks later, I'd changed my mind.

After a subtle visa misunderstanding and four days in a Venezuelan prison - I'd realized that HER choice, would have been the best one for both of us. I should have followed her out that door. I'd made a poor decision and fucked up. Who hasn't, at some point in their life?

Vanessa never forgot. She'd always throw a little dig at me if she was preparing a plate of Arepas or Pabellon or some other South American dish.

"Tell me again what the menu was like in that jail?" she'd ask innocently, with that smirk of hers painted on her lips.

What could I say? They never served Tequenos, I'll tell you that much.

16 Comments
Gorillas… and That All Important Question…
Posted:Jul 27, 2020 12:40 pm
Last Updated:Aug 25, 2020 8:44 am
3259 Views
What important question did I ask myself this weekend? Well… let me backtrack a bit.

I’ve only been living in the Bronx for a year and a half, Toronto is where I was born and went to college. A graduate degree in Michigan led me to meet Vanessa whom I married. Our jobs pulled us to Seattle where we lived and had two . Once the boys became independent men, Vee and I realized that Seattle (with its shit weather), sucked - despite the great coffee. San Diego became our last anchor until our boat finally crashed into the rocks. Now you’ve caught up to me, as I asked that all-important question.

“How long can I watch my neighbor’s black labs - Butch and Betty - fuck each other’s brains out, before I get jealous?” About 10 minutes - is the correct answer.

I wasn’t supposed to be on my deck peering into Mike’s yard at his horny dogs; though it’s not the first time either. I promised myself that last weekend I’d escape my four walls and do something different. Saturday started with promise.

The NY Post had announced the re-opening of the Bronx Zoo, so I went online to buy a one-year pass. I love gorillas. Well, they don’t sell 365 day passes to singles; only families - 2 adults and 4 under 18, to be precise. For a second, I thought of patrolling White Plains Road, until I stumbled upon a single lady and her 4 ; I’d make her an offer.

The thing is my group of friends in NYC isn’t deep enough (yet) to score a last-minute date to visit a zoo. Yeah, there’s a guy in San Diego I know and another bunch of buddies in Seattle who I could have called; they love giraffes. Heck, there are a few gals in Toronto (I’m sure) would have been keen on the ‘Gorilla Congo Forest’. Anyway… it was late Saturday afternoon and that ‘virus’ had messed up my idea.

Zoo singles had to make an APPOINTMENT and at $35 a pop, that’s a little pricey to catch the ‘Dinosaur Safari’ - only once. You need reservations for just about anything, everywhere you go in New York City. It’s the same everywhere, isn’t it?

So, there I was, sipping my cold drink, watching Butch and Betty fornicate. Mike’s been trying to breed them for over a year now, but I think there’s a problem. It doesn’t take a year to get a bitch in heat pregnant. It only took 3 months with my wife. Oh, stop… I was just kidding. It took 2.

I’ll probably still get that family pass. I’ll just have to plan things out better and make some calls during the week. At $179 (without parking) it’s a great deal. Whoever comes with me better be a nimble runner though. We’ll be dodging traffic across the Bronx River Parkway.

15 Comments
Ten Wild and Honest Thoughts on How Women Feel About IT
Posted:Jul 23, 2020 1:57 am
Last Updated:Jul 26, 2020 4:39 pm
3339 Views
My days are filled with lots of flexible time. Rest assured, successfully working from home requires discipline, dedication, and the ability to quash distractions. But for me, battling self-control is like trying to fight heroin addiction. So, when I stumbled into those articles on - ‘What Women Think About Pegging’, I should have known better. Eventually, self-discipline prevailed. I only blew an hour of my life, reading all their reflections.

Pegging; is the stimulation of the male prostate using a strap-on dildo by his female partner.

At this point, I expect many of the male readers of this post are cringing and the female portion is saying, “No way. That doesn’t interest me.” Well, hang on a second, because that’s EXACTLY what those women in the articles said - BEFORE they tried it. I’ve had some titillating prostate play (with her finger), so I became a tiny bit intrigued, as I read what those women thought.
.
.
Here are some of their takeaways…
“I couldn’t believe his quivering as I thrust back and forth over his prostate.
When I did something he liked, I could feel all his muscles squeezing me.
My favorite part was just watching him enjoy himself. I found it to be such
a huge turn on.”

“It was a great bonding experience. I loved that he trusted me, submitted to
me, and put me in charge. It was a thrill to be the dominant one with the
power to control every intimate feeling he had.”

“It was spectacular to have a guy underneath me grunting and groaning. It
was exhilarating, in a different way. When you have total authority over
someone else's pleasure, it’s so much fun. I was surprised to see how
much he liked it.”

“It was so hot to penetrate him. It was awesome to put my hands on his
hips and go to town. It was also fucking hot to have his ass in my hands. It
turned me on so much that I was dripping wet and about to cum; just from
sheer excitement.”

“Just to hear his moans and make him shiver and shake - it was incredible.
Also, he had to open himself up and become vulnerable. It gave him a
better understanding of our sex. We really bonded over the shared
experience of vulnerability.”

“Holding him after he came was so hot. He was trembling and could barely
move his legs. He was drained from all the excitement and that was the
best. It was more empowering than I thought it would be. Also, I felt sexy
in a harness. It was really cool to have a penis."

“Mentally, one of the biggest turn-ons ever. Watching your partner be all
slutty and needy is just wonderful.”

“The best part is knowing how good and amazing they're feeling
because you're giving it to them. For me, it's a lot less about the
power dynamic and a lot more about the intensity, pleasure, and intimacy."

“I felt really accomplished. I fucked my man to the point where he didn’t
care how horny he sounded; he just begged me for more. It honored me
as a woman that I could offer him such wild pleasure, with just a harness
and a dildo."

“I really enjoy how powerful I feel. Also, when I’m pegging him - I get so wet
that it drips down my thighs. Hearing his moans and seeing his face when
he cums, really turns me on. I get so excited that I can cum from the
rubbing of my harness against his thigh, as I fuck him.”
.
.

And they went on… and on. The other takeaways those ladies agreed to was;
Communication beforehand - is the MOST important thing.
Don't do it if you don't want to do it.
Do it with someone you REALLY want to please sexually.
Lots of lube.
.

And the biggest take-away for me?

For fuck’s sake, don’t start reading random articles on-line before you’ve finished your work projects. I had to bust my ass to make a deadline today. I barely made it.

As for pegging? I don’t have a partner right now so I can’t even think about it. Even if I did… well… I believe most men, are embarrassed by admitting they might be into it. The way those women described it - it does sound hot and it does involve a fair amount of trust… and lube, of course.

How about you? What are your thoughts?

21 Comments
Here’s A Clue That You’re On That All-Important THIRD Date
Posted:Jul 22, 2020 1:40 am
Last Updated:Jul 24, 2020 3:21 pm
3157 Views
I’d almost forgotten that I had a profile on this site. Then I logged into the abandoned email address I’d used to create this alias - and it dawned on me. I was amazed at how many good-looking 20 somethings had wanted to get to know me. Apologies to anyone who’s been holding their breath.

As you might recall, I’m out here living in the Bronx. Unless you follow the NY news, you can’t really imagine what that’s like. Although, things ARE improving, and everything is on the up and up. Shootings and suicides are up, and so is unemployment. Yesterday - on the rooftop of a McDonald's - they found a chopped-up body, conveniently and neatly wrapped up in plastic.

Social distancing and wearing a mask are strongly encouraged. Obviously, sex with total strangers is verboten. Shrewd singles (like me), have to use all our skills to evaluate the females we meet. If I’m on the subway and two days in a row I see the same woman’s eyes smiling back at mine? Well, we’re pretty much dating at that point. One more subway encounter and it’s that the all-important third date. You think I’m joking?

And that brings me to this site. I have no clue what purpose it serves me. I’m obviously not meeting anyone and the blogs - if you can call them that - are hardly entertaining. There’s some guy out there flashing his asshole - a dozen times a day - so that looks like a fun spot to go visit. And the other things I read; I just don’t get. I imagine you’ve got to be an insider or regular to understand the subtleties of them all.

It’s early morning and I hear echoes of gunshots in the distance, or is that a car backfiring? Can’t tell with so many fricken sirens muddling the soundscape.

Later… and be safe.

11 Comments
My Neighbour's Has More Sex... Than I Do... FFS
Posted:May 14, 2020 10:17 am
Last Updated:Jul 22, 2020 9:24 pm
4089 Views
When my 'ex' and I parted ways, it was a calm split. She's loaded and the are adults - and self sufficient - so we didn't argue about anything; 'except' our dog. We both claimed ownership.

I'll admit that I reluctantly agreed with 'Vee' (short for Vanessa), when she pointed out that my move (last year), to New York - was not in the best interests of our mutt. Especially since she knew the work hours I'd keep; dogs don't enjoy being alone all day. Sadly, I said goodbye to her - my I mean. Eventually I made friends with my neighbor - and his dogs.

'Butch' and 'Betty' are an energetic pair of three year old black labs who love to play - and have sex. 'Butch' will fuck anything on four legs... or two ; if you let him. With this current law on the 'six foot minimum' ; I've only been able to watch Butch and Betty, from a distance and I can tell you that I'm getting jealous. Butch is poking more pussy than I've had in a year. I've thought of mentioning it to my friend, but what would I say?

"Excuse me Mike. But could you you put up a privacy screen in your back yard so that I don't have to watch your dogs fuck?"

Or... how about...

"Mike... I love ya' buddy. But you're dogs have no shame. Can you rent them a room or keep them indoors?"

I don't think either plan would work. So, under my current confinement I'm stuck watching; every day and sometimes... twice. "Look away," you suggest? That's a great idea. The thing is... I'm only on that stool next to my bedroom window, so that I can keep my eyes on my shapely neighbor next door - Susan. With the warm weather we've had, she's started tanning in the nude.

As I write this, Mike's dogs are out and Susan just unfolded her reclining chair, peeled off her top and bottom - and put on her eye shades. Gotta run. This social distance crap is killing me.

9 Comments
The Pyramids… Sex… and Rainy Days...
Posted:May 12, 2020 7:22 am
Last Updated:May 16, 2020 1:18 am
4384 Views
Before I moved from San Diego to The Bronx, I lived and thrived in Seattle. It’s a great city and worth a visit; if you don’t mind frequent cool, cloudy, rainy days. Fortunately, I worked for a firm that provided me with tons of opportunities to explore other climates around the world. I grabbed every plane ticket they offered - escaped that ‘gray’ – and had some interesting adventures along the way.

On one particular trip I had taken my wife Vanessa, as she (and I for that matter), had never visited the pyramids in Egypt. Cairo is a fabulous city and the arid air and blue skies greeted us when we arrived. Our plans were for an early rise and then onto a tour bus to Giza and those impressive stone triangles. We were only going to be there for two days and there was much to see. That night, I combined business with pleasure and we shared a terrific meal with my . Alcohol wasn’t served but back at the hotel... Vanessa, ordered ‘liquid’ room service.

At the time we were both devoted to each other and totally carefree. We made love and imbibed. Then we fucked again and drank some more. You get the picture, right? We finally fell into a tangled coma – some time, deep into the night. And you guessed it…

We missed the morning ‘wake up’ call. We were both dazed and still buzzing from the previous night’s fun. By the time we stumbled out of our room - it was early afternoon. We were shocked when we walked through those sliding hotel doors and smacked into - a solid wall of furious heat. The pavement was baking under our sandaled feet. We were told that the temperature measured a hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit. “Oh… my… god,” were Vanessa’s words. I had listened to Vanessa softly moan those same words frequently, the previous night. “For fucks sake; one hundred and ten! How can people survive in these conditions?” I thought to myself.

Vanessa was turning green and I was wilting quickly; as we looked for that damn air conditioned tour bus. I knew we weren’t going to make it, when my wife threw up onto a potted palm tree. And THAT… was our visit to the pyramids.

As our plane took off the next morning, we peered sadly through the tiny windows and waved at those giant sculptures. Was our sex and liquor infused fuck up worth the missed opportunity to visit ancient history? We were both pissed off.

But I'll say this ; for a long while after that, neither of us bitched about the cool, shitty weather in Seattle.

9 Comments
Pussies... and the Polished Oxford Experiment
Posted:May 9, 2020 9:24 pm
Last Updated:May 12, 2020 12:15 pm
4902 Views
Life in The Bronx during this - ‘almost but not quite ‘ – recovery, continues at a measured and agonizingly slow pace.  I wish things would speed up, but I understand why they can’t.

A few days ago, my neighbour’s cat died – supposedly of natural causes. I’m as indifferent to that brand of pussy as they are to me. There was a wake; I didn’t go. The sparsely visited parks nearby, are constantly patrolled by police who enforce the six foot quota. Meanwhile, green spaces in Manhattan are being overrun by unmasked peeps, who are practicing zero social distancing. Wealthy Manhattanites have better relations with law enforcement, greater access to hospitalization and definitely… higher life insurance payouts.

When I was looking for a place in New York - proximity to Manhattan was an important ‘must have’. The Bronx - and its quick seven mile commute – was a good choice. I never cared that I was settling into the poorest borough in the city. Or that it had an average lifespan some ten years less than the more affluent areas of Brooklyn. But when I read that poverty, pollution and neglect have also made this district – the ‘corona’ capital of the ‘Big Apple’; now THAT bugged me.

Just as most New Yorkers are pondering vital things – like when they can get a haircut or get back to work - I’m wondering when my favourite Italian restaurant will open. They have ‘takeout’, but that’s not the same. I need my seat by the window in that corner next to the patio. One of their young waitresses will serve me a small plate of bruschetta … as I scan the specials on the menu.

As for THIS website, well… I’ve started to unravel ‘some’ of its geography. I was surprised that ladies (in their twenties), were interested in a man (like me), in his fifties. It was flattering… briefly. I couldn’t help but notice the frantic sexual frustration - posted on profiles and blogs. Some of that crap, is entertaining but I resolved that I will NOT, become one of them. As I write this, another stunning ‘twenty something’, has just flirted with me. Can I hold out?

After I press ‘enter’ on this flock of words, I’ll be heading out the door for essentials. I’ll be wearing my mask and I’ve decided to put on my ‘good’ shoes. I’m wondering if any of the women I choose to glance at will recognize my - ‘fuck me’ - eyes,  or will my polished oxfords,  be the FIRST thing they stare at?  I’ll be watching closely for dilating pupils and making mental notes ; for that day when things are back to normal.

10 Comments
These Vagabond Shoes... Are Longing To Stray
Posted:May 8, 2020 11:47 am
Last Updated:May 12, 2020 12:18 pm
5003 Views
It was rainy and gray, as I greeted this Friday morning and peeked through the windows of my apartment. Streets looked sparse and bleak - the 'new normal' - in the 'Apple' with the 'bug'. New York used to be vibrant and alive and a place where if you made it here - you could make it anywhere. Ironically it's a test that's truer now, than when Frank sang about it.

My interminable routine for seven weeks has been simple. Wake up, pour a cup of coffee, check the news, get on line - and start my day. The statistics THIS 'am' were ; thirty five social-distancing arrests. The nationalities and locations of the the perps are provided so that we can all avoid those neighbourhoods. All of this crap doesn't do much to motivate 'the libido' - my morning 'woodie' had long since expired. Shall I state the obvious and declare it wasn't always like this? I recall the day when I decided to move here.

Last year (at this time), I was working for a venture capital company in San Diego. My marriage was on the rocks - or more like crashed and dried up on the shores - and I got an offer from a firm in New York. I thought to myself ; "What the heck - it ain't happenin' for me in the 'birthplace of California'. The are on their own; might as well check out the east coast,"  and so I did. When this whole covid thing hit us, I was unprepared. I'd never heard of social distancing and neither had my network of friends. At first we thought it was all bullshit. But soon, the realities of what was going on materialized and I realized that my stamp club, wasn't going to reconvene any time soon.

So here I am - on THIS site. Who would have thought I'd be logged into a fricken on line sex site - seeking what? I don't know. It's pretty obvious I'm not going to meet anyone face to face and if I do, it will be from a distance of - is it six feet, ten feet? Might as well be a hundred yards or half a mile. Boredom and a need for mindless entertainment prompted membership on this URL. This IS, a curious and amusing piece of real estate. I don't have much experience with 'these' - hook up or dating sites ; or what IS this place? I'll figure it out. My 'ex' would be laughing at me now, with a sense of malevolent satisfaction at my plight.

My laptop just flashed a headline, that crime in Manhattan is down to record lows. I guess it would be. Although if you've ever seen the movie, "I Am Legend" - where they blow up all the bridges into New York - didn't craziness take over at some point and things exploded? I'll be here in my apartment playing with myself while on line - for a while at least.  

I hope to reach out and touch somebody... figuratively speaking of course. We'll see.

5 Comments

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