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Category: Personal

Broken Hearts are for Assholes

Lost in despair. The man of my dreams is in a relationship. He’s in love with himself. Oh Gar! if you loved me half as much as those tight boy holes you plug so eloquently I’d be the happiest old man alive.


It’s Been a Hairy Ass Summer

I’ve been on a social media hiatus as of late. The summer has taken over and I just haven’t had the energy or the time to put my horny thoughts into something as cohesive like drawing or a blog. But as you can tell from this rambling post I am worked up to spew some verbal spooge. Even though I lack original visual content I have been watching a lot of porn as of late, and have procured more straight butts the Hairy Straight Butt Page. So I will take a moment to talk directly to the producers of straight porn for a moment and say “Hey, pull back that camera for 15-30 seconds, and give that man butt a chance to fly. Throw a bone to the faggots, like me, who watch straight porn, and we’ll love you forever!” Said my piece for tonight. Happy fucking!


Happy Birthday Joe

I drew this picture a few years ago for my old man Joe. He died of a heart attack in 2005, and everyday since I send my prayers to him. His birthday was on christmas eve. He was a wise man, quiet at times, but was a heavily opinionated liberal hippy. Underneath his strong silent daddy personae, he was a deep well of emotion and love. Although at times he might not have admitted it, he was stunningly beautiful. He could be a difficult stubborn man, but he always found a way to channel his frustration into his sex drive. Rock hard 7″ that curved down when erect, not up. That cock could pry a hole open and give a bottom a night to remember for many years to come.  I could gush for hours about my old boyfriend, and will continue to do so from time to time on this site which is dedicated to his memory: Joseph P. Miesen, the original Urban Mountain Man.

Miesen

Joe nip twist

Joe tall man


Mortimer Pye is Looking for “Buds”

Not that long ago I wrote a blog entry about wanting to be called a “Rock n Roll Daddy” if you were to call me “Daddy” at all.  I wanted to emphasize that the term “Daddy” is one that is personal and not to be taken for granted. On the flip side I generally don’t throw out the label ”boy” when chatting up fellas online (unless they truly are boys-under 27.) It’s not that I don’t want that kind of intamacy between me and another man, but my experience has taught me it’s rarely that easy to click at that level meeting through social media. Either we never meet, or when we do expectations were not met to facilitate a good Daddy/boy session. Also, I don’t know where my heart is going to lay, who I’m going to meet, what I’m going to learn or who I am going become, so until I find some certainty in the imaginary land of ”Daddy & boy” I’m looking for “buds.” Friends. Friends who like to fuck, fuck and talk, and fuck off together. So if you chat with me on one of those fancy phone apps I might just call you “bud,” because that’s what Daddy wants.

Buds


Need an Ass to Ride

need an ass to ride

Need an ass to ride
A place to hide
Come up behind
Grab both sides
Glissen and glide
Catch my stride
Pile it high
Pop my top let it fly
Not gonna lie
Been looking online
Cuz it’s been a long time
Since I was deep inside
Not gonna cry
Or loose my mind
Just gimme an ass to ride
oh…
And to chew on too!

Forest butt bear

 


I Wanna be Your Rock ‘n’ Roll Daddy

For the past few years I have been reluctant to label myself as a “Daddy.” When I first began topping men I abstractly enjoyed (and jacked off to) the idea of being some kind of a father figure to a hot sub. Personalities being what they are, I never quite found my boy. More often than not I found the term being forced on me by men who did not quite fit the bill. I came to realize that for “Daddy” to work for me, I needed to feel a deeper connection with the sub beyond the sexual, and as noted earlier, I never found my boy. These days I see all sorts of variants on sub/Dom relationships play out at the local gay bars on fetish nights, and I’m inspired! I don’t want to dress up like a dog, a biker, or a lumberjack. I’m not a furry or a gaymer and most bar scenes bore me. No! The one thing I love more than anything is rock and/or rock ‘n’ roll. It’s my favorite thing to talk about, listen to, and work on. I have my own band, I write music, and produce a cartoon rock band. I have a psychedelic dungeon in my basement filled with old records. One day I look forward to sharing this love of music and art with some eager sub minded individual. I wouldn’t call listening  to music kinky(unless you are listening to The Kinks,) but I can’t think of a better way to spend time with my boy before molesting him in the garage. So if you see me out and about or online, call me “Rock ‘n’ Roll Daddy” and you will most likely get my attention.


Time to wake up Mortimer Pye

I have to be honest, I’ve been a little uninspired lately. It’s true I haven’t been posting much, and I haven’t added anything to the shop for awhile. But to be fair it’s been a busy summer for Mortimer Pye. I have not had as much time for my thoughts on man sex. Well at least constructive organized thoughts. Mostly I’ve been sleeping in late, waking slowly, with my erection leading me through dreamland. The internet has been a poor substitute for what I really want.  I am confident that once this summer cools down and the fall arrives I will have more time and energy for sex blogging, and meeting some handsome fellas in the real world.

Naked man sketch