Upskirting

Upskirting is a term used to describe the act of taking a photograph up someone’s skirt without their permission.  In most reported cases women are the victims and no men –I guess Kilt wearing Scots –  have come forward to complain.

The sexually invasive act was set to be made a criminal offence in the UK parliament this week, but a 70 year-old Conservative MP gleefully blocked it on some parliamentary procedural technicality, causing him to face a lot of backlash on social media.  But this post is not about heaping abuse on some privileged, same sex marriage hating, climate change denying, misogynist neanderthal, who has used parliamentary procedures to advance his own lecherous voyeuristic sexual perversions, but rather it is to address a little deviance of my own.

It is no secret my obsession with the male gluteus maximus and by which I mean tangible buttocks. Butts you can behold with thine eyes.  Not the unfortunate flat non-existent ones a friend of mine aptly describes as “extended backs”. Sometimes I wonder what the owners of such bums must have done in a former life, or indeed what their ancestors did, to warrant such an omission by God when he was handing out butts.

Bubble Butt_1

No, I mean Bubble butts. Visible cakes. Butts you spank and the sound reverberates around the room and collides with the moans emitted from its owner with each spank, while ravaging him from behind.

Bubble Butt_2

Or the butts you can grab and hold on to for dear life, as its owner bucks away furiously on top of you in reverse cowgirl position, like a jockey racing his horse towards the finish line.  Yes, those kind of butts.

It’s crazy because one of the first things I do when I see any remotely attractive guy in public is to discreetly check out the backside. I have always said if I was ever to identify a male crime suspect in a Police line-up, I would have to ask them to turn around to give a positive ID. Such is my obsession.

Recently, I have taken this infatuation a bit further – I now use my smart phone to take discreet pictures of guys with bubble butts. This could be in the street, on the underground, on the bus or sometimes at the gym.Bubble Butt_4

This morning while trying to take a picture of the bubble butt on a guy walking in front of me, I had an epiphany – as I tripped and came crashing hard on the pavement and aggravated an old shoulder injury in the process – that in some ways this could be similar to Upskirting but perpetrated on men.

It has the same hallmarks  – taking pictures of someone’s butt without their permission and it could be seen as a sexual intrusion into their privacy.  It is only a matter of time before men (hopefully those with bubble butts) in the name of equality, start campaigning for their own version of the law to be passed.

So in order to avoid any possible future embarrassment – you never know I might run for public office, I spent a good part of the morning while waiting to be seen by a Doctor at the A&E department, deleting images of bubble butts I took over the last few months. They were in their hundreds.

I am not sure what was more traumatic – the excruciating shoulder pain before being given strong pain killers or the agony of deleting those pictures.

 I think I need Jesus….

I wonder if He has a bubble butt….🤔

Bubble Butt_3

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Wild Thoughts

The hustle is real, so off to work I go.

I do the 10 minute walk to the London Underground station. I have my headphones on. I am listening to music from my “recently played” playlist set on random selection mode. There are 175 songs. Means songs from Classical, Musicals, Pop, RnB, Gospel, Hip Hop, Afrobeat and possibly Apala music genres can start playing any time. I like the unpredictability.

The sassy song “Trouble” by Iggy Azelea ft. Jennifer Hudson is currently playing.  

I get to the Tube station and the platform is crowded.  About 3 people deep from the edge of the platform, there is some delay on the line. I was hoping for a trouble free journey into work today.

And right on cue, Andra Day starts singing “Not Today” in my ears with her mellow and soul stirring voice .

I maneuver myself into position on the section of the platform, where I can get on the carriage nearest the exit when the train arrives at my stop. Most people do this.

I am behind a young interracial couple. They are probably in their mid to late twenties. She white, blonde, about 5’7” tall, wearing light make up and a body hugging short black dress, that accentuates her curves. He Indian, stands at roughly 5’10”, athletic build, wearing a blue turban on his head and a light pink shirt tucked into a pair of grey slim fitting trousers and holding a gym bag. I assume he will be going to the gym at some point in the day. They look so loved up.

Tina Turner starts to serenade me with “Two People”. How sweet.

I steal a look at this bum. It would be rude not to. It is visible. Not flat. Not big, but round and firm. It complements his athletic body nicely. I know I shouldn’t foster stereotypes, but for an Indian, “Baby got back”.  Would I tap that?  Most likely, but that’s not up to me. He kinda looks hella straight. I will call him Ramdeep.

Blue turban 6

 

Two busy trains come into the platform in succession. No one gets off from the carriage we are positioned in front of, so no one gets on. Shit I will be late for a meeting at work. A third one comes in. Some passengers get off and more people on the platform try to occupy the space they vacate. Back in the day, in Lasgidi (Lagos), I learned how to squeeze myself into a crowded Molue bus. If they think I will forget those skills for the sake of propriety, they have another thing coming.

Molue

I manage to get on.

Fela Kuti starts playing  “Shuffering and Shmilling” through my headphones. The line in the song “49 sitting and 99 standing” very much describes the situation in the train carriage. The rest of the song, though released over 30 years ago, highlights endemic corruption which is still very pertinent to Nigeria…But I digress.

It’s a tight squeeze. My back is pressed against the carriage door. Ramdeep with the nice cakes, is in front of me. He is facing his girlfriend with his back to me and his firm round butt just about grazing my groin area. Any slight movement and it will brush against me for sure.

I press my back as much as I comfortably can against the door, to create a respectable distance between my groin and his butt. I won’t be in this position for too long. Maximum 3 minutes.  The next stop has connections to other underground lines and a good number of passengers will get off.

The train sets off. 30 seconds into the journey, something causes Ramdeep to move back a bit. Perhaps being the attentive boyfriend that he is, he is trying to give his girlfriend a bit of space to ease the crush on her. Not sure if he is aware but, he just entered the unspoken allowable personal space of an adjacent individual in a packed train.

I don’t say anything. No point causing a fuss. Besides if he doesn’t mind his backside just about resting on another man’s groin…more power to him.

Now, his butt is grazing my groin and he unconsciously mirrors the slight rocking motion of the train, only he is subtly swaying back and forth into me.

Christina Aguilera  croons “Want your skin up against mine. Move my hips to the baseline…” from her song “Get mine, Get yours” from the playlist. 

Oh Lord, this is not good.  It would be over in about 2 and a half minutes. Wrong.Read More »

My Blatino Oasis 2017 (NSFW)

I finally got my ass over to Palm Springs, California for the Blatino oasis gay event

late last month. Something I had been thinking of doing for the last 6 years but couldn’t, due to (in no particular order) work commitments, personal finances, weddings and a morbid fear of being used for target practice by a jacked up US law enforcement officer.

But I overcame all these obstacles and found myself in the sweltering Palm Springs desert heat of 36 degrees centigrade and looking forward to the entertainment,  lined up for the year’s Blatino gathering.

Here is a blurb from the website www.blatinooasis.com

Blatino Oasis is a retreat (not a pride event), started in 2007, and held annually in Palm Springs, California. The next event will be held April 27-April 30, 2017. The retreat offers a variety of activities geared towards gay and bisexual men of color and our friends & lovers, to help us to party, relax and enjoy ourselves, in the beautiful, very gay friendly and legendary Hollywood vacation resort getaway to the stars, Palm Springs, California.”

Passes for the activities are released 12 months in advance and the early bird passes sell out really quickly, so I purchased mine not too long after they were released last year.

Blatino - 23 of 23

As is the norm for such events organised in the US, there is a host hotel, where most of the activities are held.Read More »

How Keredim Got His Groove Back…..Almost

It’s January and I found myself in Montego Bay Jamaica, hundreds of kilometres away from the cold UK weather, primarily to get some sunshine and possibly sample some authentic Jamaican homegrown wholesome non-genetically modified rump. And maybe some authentic Jamaican cuisine along the way.

jam_man3

During the short 10 minute taxi ride to the hotel resort where I was staying (and throughout the holiday), being a Nigerian I could not help but notice some similarities, between my people and black Jamaicans – physically and in some mannerisms. This is not so surprising considering what went on during the era of slave trade, where my people were forcibly taken from the west code and landed all over the Caribbean.  So effectively we are very distant cousins.

jam_man-2

 

First thing that struck me was the driving.Read More »

Brexit: The result

Brexit

Woke up this morning.

Saw the news on TV

I am speechless.

What the Fuck just happened!?!

Britain Voted to leave the EU??!!

Cameron resigns?!?!

I am in shock. Feels like I have been hit by a truck.

I am incontinent incandescent with rage.

”Why Lord, Why hast thou forsaken me? Why have You reduced the chances of finding a white round bubble butt in Britain?” (Click here)

 Shit.  I really don’t need this right now!!!

Oh well…. Time to brush up on my Spanish…..

How do say “Have you got a bubble butt?” in Spanish….

 

Brexit – A Case For Bubble Butts

Incase you haven’t heard, the United Kingdom will be voting in a referendum on June 23rd to decide whether to leave the European Union (EU) or to stay. This has been aptly termed “Brexit” to leave or “Bremain” to stay.

What brought this on? Since Britain joined the EU back in 1973, dissenting voices have always complained that they wanted to leave the community. They were (and are still) not happy with the EU laws and standards they had to subscribe to as a member country.  The idea of being ruled by anyone else other than themselves is abhorrent to them. Rule Britannia and all that.Read More »

Crap I Get On Grindr

I like good personal hygiene. I like my hookups showered and prepared before we meet up. I expressed my sentiments about douching here in a previous post.

Unfortunately not all bottom guys I hookup with share the same sentiments and this continues to baffle me. Consequently, during chats on whatever hookup site or app I am on and the hookup looks certain, I always ask if the guy has douched. Initially, I used to think it was improper to ask, but after more than a few unpleasant surprises, I have thrown all propriety out the window and I now routinely ask.

It seems however that I might have an answer to my bafflement.

Let me set the scene: This guy from Spain contacted me on Grindr in March, saying he would be in London in June for business. We exchanged pictures and agreed we would be a good fit in bed. We exchanged numbers and our conversation moved to Whatsapp. He arrives in London and we arrange a provisional time to meet and seal the deal. Below is the interesting part of the conversation. Please note English is not his first language, but he clearly communicated his thoughts about douching.

Douche1Douche2.

I was stunned. This guy was saying he couldn’t go home to douche and that it didn’t really matter, because I was going to use condoms anyway. So would he have offered to go home and douche if we were going to fuck bareback? Or maybe he would have suggested I just wash my dick of it turned out he was messy? Unbelievable!!!

For me a clean bottom is not negotiable. I do appreciate accidents do happen and the best preparations don’t exactly workout; but at least be seen to give a shit and make an effort and douche. But not this guy. So I feigned an emergency and cancelled the hookup. His wasn’t the only arse on business in London.

It got me thinking though, is the use of condoms one of the reasons some bottom guys don’t douche?

I am still baffled.