I'm remembering those anti-drug commercials from the 80s that end with "No one says 'I want to be a junkie when I grow up.'" Well, no one says, "I want to be a pornographer when I grow up," yet here I am. So why? Why would I do this? I mean, would you? No, of course not. I think I wanted to explore some bbbof my fantasies in writing, to develop them, to try to figure out what turns me on the most, and also to explore what women might find erotic. I'm not sure I did a great job at the latter. Anyway, I always welcome feedback, even if you want to call me a cross pervert or any other insult you can come up with. Every writer loves to have an audience. So, if you like what you see, please write me at michael_k_1234@yahoo.com with comments, suggestions, or insults.

Get to know your pornographer (me rambling):

Stories:



A bit about me for those who are curious:

When I'm not writing smut, I'm a self-employed computer programmer without a sex life to speak of, hence the pornographic story writing. I abuse coffee and nicotine gum and have a sad, cruel addiction to World of Warcraft that keeps me in front of the computer for hours after I wrap up work for the day. It's something of a cliche to say, "I'm unhappy," so I won't. I don't have enough of an imagination for serious writing and I suppose that's why I write these stories, to satisfy my desire to write while catering to my short attention span � I can spit one of these things out in an hour or an hour and a half. I tend not to take myself seriously, except when it comes to work. I'm very good at what I do though, obviously, it doesn't involve webpage design. I work compulsively to avoid dealing with life. I guess the reason I'm writing this and including a picture is to dispel the notion that I'm some cross-eyed psycho living under my parent's sink, which is probably only my self-consciousness over being a part-time pornographer. Anyway, I should get to work. 25 days straight without a day off and I'll start to feel agitated soon if I don't start working. Sad.


I decided to add a little more. I took out a profile on a dating site for younger men and older women a few days ago and rather like what I wrote to describe myself. Here's the gist of it:

about the last thing that's better than white turtle cheesecake

I like to think of myself as being trouble, but truthfully, I'm not, which is obviously quite sad. I surrendered my adventurous side in my mid-twenties because it was getting me into too much trouble. So many people will say, "Live life to its fullest." What they don't know is the original quotation runs, "Live life to its fullest and reckon not the cost." Not the wisest words to live by.

At any rate, the webpage thing here is advising me to tell a "fun story" instead of writing a description. Easily done enough. Just don't accuse me of trying to be cute. I'm not fond of this story. When I was two and a half years old (bear with me), my brother, eighteen months older, and my dad were playing lawn darts. I kept running in the way despite my father insisting that I stay to the side. Finally, he swatted my butt and then I gave him, in his words, an indignant look. He asked, "What was I supposed to do, Michael?" I answered, ,"You already made your choice."

So, point is, despite being immature on one level, less mature than many men my age, part of me has also aged quite beyond what's typical for a 36-year-old. If you don't believe me, I suspect it's because you don't want to. I'm uploading a video. The words probably sound better coming out of my mouth.

Always wanted to try

I'd really like to go out with a woman fifteen or so years older than me one night and eat at a sidewalk table in front of a restaurant, he hand touching mine, her hand touching my leg till finally I leaned in a kissed her. A few glasses of wine, the ride back to her place, swaying my ass for her as I cross the floor to the bathroom then talking about how it turns me on, touching it, asking if she'd like to do the same. Upstairs on the bed, lying at the edge of a bed and wrapping my legs around her back, locking them at the ankles and fucking my hot, slutty ass back on her driving cock, as she watches me gurgle and moan and finally completely lose control of myself when she begins to fondle me and I jabber vulgar desires and words of lust until I beg, squeal, and screech my way to a screaming orgasm then slump weakly back into the mattress, savoring the cooling streaks of cum on my torso and, even more, my tender, sore, not entirely sated fuck-tunnel, still clenching at her cock in weakening pulses, my head reeling and that word on my lips: "Mommy."

Points for honesty?

Goal in life

I want to find a way to keep working on interesting problems with computers as opposed to being shuffled into middle management. If I'm able to market my product successfully, and I'm almost to the marketing stage, I might remain self-employed forever. If not, I'll probably head back to school for a PhD. I know that sounds grandiose. I can do the head work. I assure you. It's setting aside four more years for school at this time of life that would be the sacrifice.

Look for in a partner

One of the reasons I'd like to date a woman older than I is that I need someone who can see through my crap, so to speak. I can't always myself. I'd like a woman who could indulge in it when she likes, tolerate it when it's annoying her, and most especially someone who knows when and how to jerk the leash to keep me in line. That isn't a power struggle. I'm very responsive to having the leash jerked and will even explain to women what seems to work best with me as far as getting me in line. The reason for that is that I know that I don't steer relationships well. At all. It's rather like my stance on being emasculated. I'm at home with it. I'd just like some input into the schedule. Same with the direction things head in.

On the first date

"Describe what would you do for a first date." That's a bit ambiguously worded. Trying not to be an idiot for a moment, first dates are generally best orchestrated around those sorts of stupid activities that you would never do alone or with a friend even if someone paid you too, but activities that are fun with a new love interest. Think "paddle boats." Then ratchet it back a bit. I'm not that far gone, for God's sake.


Pictures of me:

Forgive the mess. Pretend I'm in a seedy hotel — well, if that does anything for you.

This is one I shamelessly send out often due to love-struck look. Me looking scraggly.
Trying to look cute. Bangs in eyes? Me not giving a shit.