benevolentbjs

Honest stuff, not 'studio straight' guys or contrived crap. Service to these men is truly my calling. I'm respectful of every one I encounter and help all regardless of their participation or not. The website has over 140 guys now. All revenues go to help the men and creating new content through membership in the not-for-profit website.

My reticence to engage with this man was simply based upon his outward appearance when I encountered in along Century Blvd in L.A. What began as a tentative, ‘iffy’ conversation quickly evolved, as his demeanour belied his outward look: here was this intelligent, well reasoned, soft spoken man who possessed a quiet self-confidence despite the challenges throughout his life. He grew up in foster homes, became involved in a gang, did self described "stupid things" which landed him in prison for twelve years when he was just a teenager. When I pitched him his primary concern was "what if someone within his gang saw this?" but he himself then reasoned "if someone from 'inside' sees this, well, what the fuck are they doing watching this shit anyway?".

I was reluctant to even talk to this self described ‘Blatino’ guy when I first saw him along Century Blvd. in LA. I wrongly “judged a book by its cover” and this man defines that misjudgment, solely because of his outward appearance which telegraphed an unknown ‘danger’ to me. What I found, however, was an intelligent, articulate man whose life is simply framed within the realities of his upbringing and circumstances. For him, gang life provides a structure and family that he otherwise didn't have. He was looking to find a parallel path within this family in making himself a legit career in music. When he shed his pants, this dude was *ready*; half hard before even touching him; a beautiful brown penis with a pink dickhead that demanded attention. He had this thrusting motion with my head in his hands that just defines 'straight dude getting some head'. Despite his menacing appearance, he asserted this sort of gentle control throughout and finally blew his load all over my face.

Walking through Union Square in SF, just across the street from the hotel, we found this extremely long haired dude in something of an alcove in the promenade, standing beside a trash bin. He was looking around, eyes darting back and forth as though he was scouting, looking for someone. I thought he was a street dude but as we walked towards him he motioned with his head, directing us towards this recessed corner of the plaza. Turns out he wasn’t living on the streets but rather was selling party favours to tourists who were looking to score. We talked to him, listened to his fascinating tales of being a small time dealer, which could fill a book. I pitched the dude expecting him to decline but to my surprise his only question was "so where do we go?", since he thought I wanted to kneel and blow him right there. I pointed to the hotel building and off we went.

In a very tourist-crowded Union Square in S.F. we encountered another long haired man who we thought was on the streets but was in fact a small time dealer selling his wares. He took my pitch with the question “so where do we go?”, because he thought my intent was to suck his dick right there in the square. After the quick walk back to the room, the dude slid down his pants. Kneeling, I could *smell* uncircumcised penis and he permitted me to clean it off. I tried licking back behind his balls and was tonguing near his hole but he wouldn't let me go any further there. His dick was only partially erect until he started to thrust and grab my head, when his cock instantly stiffened. It was as though it just got hard for the purpose of his delivering a dose of genetic business. He pumped a gag-worthy load of this sour tasting spooge and when his dick finally slipped out of my mouth, I was just in this visual awe of it, and him. His dick continued to convulse even after he unloaded.

While in the Richmond area of Vancouver, we found ourselves at this strange shopping centre, Lansdowne Mall, that was entirely Chinese, much like Richmond itself. Chinese stores, Chinese grocery, Chinese medical and herbs, it was surreal. The only thing that tethered the mall to North America was a pizza joint in their food court, where we encountered this dude. Sitting at a table adjacent, we were shooting the shit over the demographics and the fact that he was a visitor himself, from Chile. His English was excellent and as the conversation evolved, I pitched the dude. He thought about it for a minute and said since he was so far from home, no one back there would ever know. And besides, he said, though he’d never had a dude blow him, life was all about the “adventures that happen in travel’.

Having found this dude at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint in a very Chinese area of Vancouver, it turns out he’s a tourist from South America. His “adventures in travel” landed him in my hotel room with his pants around his ankles. He went commando and his dick was ready from the very start. He had a perfect uncut dick. His ass was SO furry that even though he wouldn’t let me lick his hole, I did tongue his hairy cheeks. I sucked his cock, licked his armpits and when he blew his load, it was with such velocity that it hit the back of my throat and made me gag (and gag and gag).

Most of the guys that I encounter on the street end up there as a result of drugs, breakups or other life changing events beyond their control or ability to deal with. A few, like this guy in Vancouver's downtown east side, lead a life of what I think of as a "mid-twenties funk". They're focused on partying; they actually romanticise the 'street vibe'. They couch surf their way through life with no sense of direction or interest. However, boys will be boys and when pitched, his response was almost exactly that of other lifestyle homeless dudes: a weak disbelief, almost too good to be true, free money. "Wait a sec, you're gonna blow me AND you're gonna give me money? Where do I sign up?".

This dude, on the streets more as a lifestyle choice than in desperation, said he liked the Vancouver "street vibe". He's on and off in the rough and couch surfing for four years, working when he had to but partying and living a life that suited him for the moment. When I knelt for him, wow, what a perfect uncut dick. He allowed me to sniff and lick around, it took him a while to get hard, finally moving him over to the bed and having him watch some straight porn as I sucked his dick. It was only rubbery hard until he got close to doing his business, then got a total stiffy and blew a dense load which I swallowed and thanked him for.

I know absolutely nothing about this guy who I'd only seen as we sped past him driving through at an intersection. The videographer had picked me up at the airport and we were driving toward his studio to plan the logistics for shooting there in Las Vegas. We saw this dude standing against a pole in the median at the stop light. Since the light was green, we whizzed by, my commenting “see, he's *EXACTLY* the kind of guy.....". When we got to the studio, I unloaded my stuff and he said that he had 'an errand to run' and would be right back. About ten minutes later, in through the door walks the videographer with this guy from the median standing behind him.

We'd seen this man a few minutes earlier as we whizzed by an intersection in Las Vegas. Unbeknownst to me, after dropping me off at his place, the camera guy went back and found him at an adjacent bus shelter in that same intersection. He tried to sell the videographer some of his wares but the tables got turned and ended up selling a look between his legs instead. This experience was utterly surreal: he stood there, totally disinterested in the fact that he was getting his dick sucked and way more interested in his pipe. He had a big dick which got hard despite the over-the-top commentary. Beyond surreal, he paid zero attention to me or what I was doing, like for him it wasn't even sexual or physical. it took this dude all of about 40 seconds to nut. His dick made these weak, anaemic contractions and didn't even realise what was going on until my mouth was being filled with a watery, caustic tasting load. Regardless, I swallowed. And thanked him.

Interesting how even the shittiest of weather conditions can itself create opportunities. Wet, sloppy snow in Calgary made for an awful canvassing on the streets so we holed up in a sports bar adjacent to our hotel waiting for the snow showers to pass. Watching the various games on and downing a few beer, I saw this guy, who was sitting by himself up at the bar. When there was a great play on one of the screens and visiting team from Winnipeg scored, he began shouting and fist pumping. Being a fellow Winnipegger, I walked over, offered him a beer and made small talk; eventually pitching the dude. He said flat out: "Fuck no! My fuckin' girlfriend's in the hotel and I wouldn't anyhow" so I just skulked away back to the table. Eventually, the weather was clearing sufficient to head out back on the street. This dude eyes us as we're leave the bar and while we're still in the entry area, he comes over, doesn't make any direct eye contact and asks only "how much?”.

This dude was sitting on a barstool watching six different games on the screens in a sports bar in Downtown Calgary. He never imagined that twenty minutes later he'd be standing with his pants down around his ankles and his dick in the mouth of a gay guy. He had a beautiful uncut cock and huge, low hanging sweaty nuts. I sniffed around, licked his dick and blew him but when I slid my tongue back between his legs and got too close to his (really hairy) ass hole he stopped me cold. Some straight guys, like this dude, can get very defencive of their ass. I sucked him more and I think in some instinctual display of dominance playing itself out, as he's getting close, he pulls away from my mouth, took hold of his dick, pointed it at me and just let loose, painting my face with his wad. I thanked him.

We encountered this man outside the Bartlett Hall Brewery in San Francisco. As we passed by he asked if we had a light for his cigarette. My assumption that he was a dude on the street was quickly dispatched with as we shot the shit, him just stepped out of the bar for a smoke. What began as small talk evolved into a heavy duty, super serious conversation which turned profoundly personal and positively confessional when I’d pitched him. See what a few beers will bring out in a man? He lives with a ‘neurogenic dysfunction’, the result of spine surgery as a kid, which left him unable to “perform” the way he would want to. He took the pitch if only because he wanted someone, anyone, to pay attention to him “down below”, as he called it.

There’s something about the honesty of this guy who we met having a smoke outside a brew pub near Union Square in SF. Our small talk led o heavy duty personal disclosures and a venting of his own life's frustrations. Here’s this heterosexual man whose life he perceived as 'fucked up", from his adolescence, because of what’s called Neurogenic Erectile Dysfunction, a nerve damage he suffered from spine surgery when he was a kid. "Chicks want a stiff dick" he said; and that despite the fact he could still “get off”, he’d resigned himself to a life devoid of fatherhood. He took my pitch more because he just wanted someone, anyone, to pay some attention to his dick. When he undid his pants, holy mackerel, what a *beautiful* "show-er" dick and huge nuts. This guy is hung. I licked at his cock and blew him for a bit, then got to lick his ass hole. You can see his legs quiver as I tongue his hole. I turned him around and sucked him more. His dick actually began responding somewhat which led to the oddest, most intense occurrence: As I'm sucking him near-flaccid, there began these weak, almost constant, convulsive contractions from the underbelly of his dick. As I mouthed his entire dick this man started to deposit an ongoing 'drool' of his sperm into my mouth. I told him he was perfect. And he is.

Walking up the street from the Powell Street BART in SF, we encountered this man in front of the Burger King and then came across him again the following day in front of the St. Francis Hotel. We chatted a few minutes each time and both time placed some cash in his cap, which he had laid on the pavement in front of him. Most of the men with whom I engage are quick vent about their situation: who wronged them; how they ended up in the circumstances they were in. Most want to be given voice; to be heard; There are others, like this man: quiet and introspective, not wanting to discuss his situation at all, something I'm equally as respectful of. When I pitched him his response of "you'd wanna blow someone like me?" was in a way emotionally wrenching, as though he didn't think of himself as worthy of being cared about when the fact is that he's *all* that mattered and the most important thing to me in that moment.

This quiet, introspective man we encountered panhandling on the street, twice, each time near the Powell St. BART station in SF. Despite his pensive demeanour, there was nonetheless a palpable energy that existed just beneath his surface which framed everything that occurred with this masculine masterpiece. He’s equipped with a beautiful uncut dick which carries his scent that can only be described as musk or breeding season 'rut'. If man scent is your thing, this dude would be God-like to you. He was to me. Despite what on its face seems to be nothing more than a quick blowjob, it was much deeper than that. There was a powerful connection to his penis that defies a logic as much as it defines an ‘emotional focus’; his power amplified in me by his scent, his dick and his allowing me explore him as I did. Once he got comfortable laying on the bed it didn’t take long for nature to play itself out in doing his genetic business in my mouth. I swallowed and then I thanked him.

We were walking along Venice Beach when this dude came whizzing by on his bike, weaving through the pedestrian traffic like a pro until he clipped my arm as he flew by. He stopped to ask if I was OK; I was fine and joked that his bike took the worst of it. This was a fascinating young man, he said he was from Louisiana and one day just "picked up and left"; got on his bike and just kept going. The bike was travel worn, tires bald and frame dented. He said he was trying to experience his own version of freedom with no set agenda or schedule. He picks up work as a plumber or labourer along the journey to make cash to support his travels. When I pitched him I was surprised, I mean like he didn't even process it in his head before the words "fuck, yes!" spilled out of his mouth.

It was on the streets of Venice Beach where we found this bicycle riding nomad who was on a voyage of self-discovery; seeking to find his own idea of freedom. Along his bike ride across the country to California he never foresaw or could envision that his explorations would include his dick in the mouth of a gay guy. There was this undercurrent of energy emanating from him as he came to realise a power that his dick possesses. It's hard to define but is palpable; it is real. I am humbled, truly, that I got to suck his dick and carefully lick clean his hairy, musky hole. That he blew his load in my mouth left me in this daze of awe of him. Afterwards, we set out for a nearby bicycle dealership a few blocks away and got him a new bike to continue his journey and sent him on his way.

We spent our final night in Vancouver at a hotel within the airport before a very early morning flight to Calgary. Going down to Tim Horton's just below the hotel in the Int'l Arrivals area, we encountered this guy who was waiting on his girlfriend's many hours long delayed flight. He had a bouquet of wilting flowers in his hand which provided the perfect opening to a conversation. It was clear he'd had a couple of drinks (or was partying) which enabled this wicked, narcissistic stream of consciousness which spewed from this dude's mouth. I'm SO not pound of myself for surrendering to his brand of toxic masculinity but sexual human nature is what it is. After I pitched him he sort of leans into me, and in this low, almost whisper in my ear, calls me out for what this was, asking almost with a contempt "you wanna get a look at my dick?". He never verbally actually took the pitch but rather just unceremoniously ditched the flowers he was holding into the trash and nodded over at the escalators which led up to the hotel.