The outing of Lance Bass still has me in a dither. I keep telling Jay, this week’s lucky gay bar catch, that I knew Nsync had a gay bandmate. Now I’m vindicated! I’m right, but I’ll be modest. Next time, people, LISTEN TO ME. But let’s talk ass. Like gay hunk ass. The kind that’s buff, wears a cocksucker of a smile, may have a few tattos, perhaps some facial hair, and most definitely young, like college-young or just-out-of-high-school young. Sorry, but man I want to suck on some frat boi nipples. Some undergrad uncut cock. I want to drill some gay male virgin ass. I want to hear him whimper in pleasure as I push my cock all the way inside him. You with me? Kewl. Now pay attention. You want gay hunk movies? Yes? I do, too. Especially NOW as college bois are showing up in droves in time for the start of the fall semester. OH GAWD this time of year puts my cock in a knot!!! But fear not! You got Chiseled Beef’s hunky gay male movies. Problem is, this shite hooks you. Do yourself a favor come mid-terms - turn off PC and get some of that gay college muscle stud action. I am. and I’ll be posting how I seduce these “straight” guys into blowjobs and anal sex (Yes, it happens more often than U think)

Im perverted. I lounge in my poolside chaise lounge and stare at latin hunks exiting the water, their trunks slipping ever so slightly down the small of their backs, showing me some untapped ass crack. I also pop a tent when regular guys (latinos included - hey, I’m not a hater, yo!) prepare to dive in their speedos, giving me an eyeful of crotch that makes me wish in my next life I look like Matthew Rush (but with a bigger dick) and have x-ray vision. But, Christ, man, why did they have to invent the Speedo? Better yet, what gives hunks the right to wear them? Especially if Im hungover in 100 degree weather in a thong in Miami sipping a Long Island Iced Tea? Im surly. It must have been the Everclear. Fucking Jackson got me worked up and I threw back no less than three shots of the stuff. But it was what the doc ordered. I was liqured up enough to push Jackson into a bathroom stall in da club (shout out to Fifty-Cent…you my nigga, boi!) for a throat fuck. He dug it. I even piched his nose shut. He got off even more. I was turned on by the fact HE had stiff pipe and that made me thrust deeper, until I poured a nut upside his tonsiles. He gagged. Shrug - who the fuck cares! Now he knows.

But Chad Connors. The bullish college musclehead I posted pics of above. Man, I’d like to grease his vocal chords, too. I’m sure he’d let me. I’d speak to his vanity. I’d say, “Oh Chad, dude, your so muscley, so pumped up and huge, I could just tweak your nipples, spit on your washboard stomach, bite your biceps, scratch your manly shoulders, deep, until I leave marks, you strong man.” Think Im nuts?!?! No way. I’ve done it, guys. These meathead hunks love praise. If you want to bounce on his prick, you gotta heap it on. Figure it out. This guy goes to the gym six days a week. He ain’t doing it because its more interesting than Will and Grace re-runs. No, he’s doing it because he wants compliments. He wants you oggling his ass. He wants you salivating over his hips, thighs, and calves. He wants you to make prolonged eye contact with his face. He wants to feel your eyes sweep across his Germanic nose, his youthful dimples, his sexy, pronounced chin. But most of all, he wants you riding his big macho cock, his third leg, the body part he will donate a kidney to keep. Yes, it’s true. Don’t smirk. Suprised, OK. But smirk? Don’t. Because he’s the guy who wants you riding his naked lap in reverse so he can watch his fat lubed pecker slide in and out of your velvet hole. Yeah, dudes, that’s what he’s up for. I’m going to act on my own advice. I’m going to the gym this week. Not to pump iron. But to pump a muscle boi. They’ll do it. Don’t let their “straightness” spook you…