Michael's profile - supporters can see gallery

		Profile ID: 1584676
Age	69
Height	6'1" ft
	(185 cm)
Weight	201 lb
	(91 kg)
Sexually is	versatile oral versatile
City	Atlanta
Zip / postal	30324
State	Georgia
Country	United States
Seeking	sex partner(s) a date a relationship friends
Prefer men aged upto 65

Profile text:

6', 210 lbs. Certified Massage Therapist, Healer, Spiritual Counselor, body/mind/spirit

A little on the rugged side but sensitive in nature. I enjoy, walking in the woods, scary movies, soft music and a good steak. I'm an uninhibited naturalist. I try to keep myself in shape and make the best of this 60+ year old body. Healthy poz.

I'm spiritually oriented, intuitive, and a certified massage therapist. I am a student of Kabalah, Vedanta and Christian Mysticism. I am committed to my spiritual practice and would appreciate a man who understands and encourages introspection and spiritual exploration.

I'm always open to meeting fit mature men and masculine young men. Ultimately, I would like to meet a special guy to develop a special relationship with - but in the mean time...I'm open to all possibilities. Big hands, big feet, deep voices and pro cuddlers are on the wish list.

Would love to hear from you.



INFP

Some favorite quotes:

"Imagine it's 30 years from now. You're looking back at the history of your relationship with desire. There was a certain watershed moment when you clearly saw that some of your desires were mediocre, inferior, and wasteful, while others were pure, righteous, and invigorating. Beginning then, you made it a life goal to purge the former and cultivate the latter. Thereafter, you occasionally wandered down dead ends trying to gratify yearnings that weren't worthy of you, but usually you wielded your passions with discrimination, dedicating them to serve the highest and most interesting good." Rob Brezsny

"Only in the presence of another man can a man realize his true masculine self." Thomas Lake

Desirata ... "with all of its shams, drudgery, and sorrow - it is still a beautiful world"

"Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need." - Tyler Durdin

"You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa I will ever need in my life. Buy the sofa, then for a couple years you're satisfied that no matter what goes wrong, at least you've got your sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the perfect bed. The drapes. The rug. Then you're trapped in your lovely nest, and the things you used to own, now they own you. " - Chuck Palahniuk

"The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person. " - Chuck Palahniuk

"My first time I jacked off, I thought I'd invented it. I looked down at my sloppy handful of junk and thought, This is going to make me rich. " - Chuck Palahniuk

"Did You Know? A study published by psychiatrist Dr. Aikarakudy Alias concluded that men with extraordinarily high IQ's generally had thicker, more abundant body hair than their less intelligent counterparts. He also found that the smartest members of Mensa (a high-IQ society) tended to have thick hair on their backs, as well as their chests."

Written in the 1940s
The Platonic Blow

It was a spring day, a day, a day for a lay when the air
Smelled like a locker-room, a day to blow or get blown.
Returning from lunch I turned my corner and there
On a near-by stoop I saw him standing alone.

I glanced as I advanced. The clean white T-shirt outlined
A forceful torso, the light-blue denims divulged
Much. I observed the snug curves where they hugged the behind,
I watched the crotch where the cloth intriguingly bulged.

Our eyes met, I felt sick. My knees turned weak.
I couldn't move. I didn't know what to say.
In a blur I heard words myself like a stranger speak.
"Will you come to my room?" Then a husky voice, "O.K."

I produced some beer and we talked. Like a little boy
He told me his story. Present address next door.
Half Polish half Irish The youngest. From Illinois.
Profession mechanic. Name Bud. Age twenty-four.

He put down his glass and stretched his bare arms along
The back of my sofa. The afternoon sunlight struck
The blond hairs on the wrist near my head. His chin was strong,
His mouth sucky. I could hardly believe my luck.

And here he was sitting beside me, legs apart.
I could bear it no longer. I touched the inside of his thigh.
His reply was to move closer. I trembled.
My heart Thumped and jumped as my fingers went to his fly.

I opened a gap in the flap. I went in there.
I sought for a slit in the gripper shorts that had charge
Of the basket I asked for. I came to warm flesh then to hair,
I went on. I found what I hoped. I groped. It was large.

He responded to my fondling in a charming, disarming way:
Without a word he unbuckled his belt while I felt
And lolled back, stretching his legs. His pants fell away.
Carefully drawing it out, I beheld what I held.

The circumcised head was a work of mastercraft,
With perfectly beveled rim of unusual weight
And the friendliest red. Even relaxed, the shaft
Was of noble dimensions with the wrinkles that indicate

Singular powers of extension. For a second or two,
It lay there inert then suddenly stirred in my hand,
Then paused as if frightened or doubtful of what to do,
And then with a violent jerk began to expand.

By soundless bounds it extended and distended, by quick
Great leaps it rose, it flushed, it rushed to its full size.
Nearly nine inches long and three inches thick,
A royal column ineffably solemn and wise.

I tested its length and strength with a manual squeeze,
I bunched my fingers and twirled them about the knob,
I stroked it from top to bottom. I got on my knees.
I lowered my head. I opened my mouth for the job.

But he pushed me gently away. He bent down. He unlaced
His shoes. He removed his socks. Stood up. Shed
His pants altogether. Muscles in arms and waist
Rippled as he whipped his T-shirt over his head.

I scanned his tan, enjoyed the contrast of brown
Trunk against white shorts taut around small
Hips. With a dig and a wriggle he peeled them down.
I tore off my clothes. He faced me smiling. I saw all.

The gorgeous organ stood stiffly and straightly out
With a slight flare upwards. At each beat of his heart it threw
An odd little nod my way. From the slot of the spout
Exuded a drop of transparent viscous goo.

The lair of hair was fair, the grove of a young man,
A tangle of curls and whorls, luxuriant but couth.
Except for a spur of golden hairs that fan
To the neat navel, the rest of the belly was smooth.

Well hung, slung from the fork of the muscular legs,
The firm vase of his sperm, like a bulging pear,
Cradling its handsome glands, two herculean eggs,
Swung as he came towards me, shameless, bare.

We aligned mouths. We entwined. All act was clutch,
All fact contact, the attack and the interlock
Of tongues, the charms of arms. I shook at the touch
Of his fresh flesh, I rocked at the shock of his cock.

Straddling my legs a little I inserted his divine
Person between and closed on it tight as I could.
The upright warmth of his belly lay all along mine.
Nude, glued together for a minute, we stood.

I stroked the lobes of his ears, the back of his head
And the broad shoulders. I took bold hold of the compact
Globes of his bottom. We tottered. He fell on the bed.
Lips parted, eyes closed, he lay there, ripe for the act.

Mad to be had, to be felt and smelled. My lips
Explored the adorable masculine tits. My eyes
Assessed the chest. I caressed the athletic hips
And the slim limbs. I approved the grooves of the thighs.

I hugged, I snuggled into an armpit.
I sniffed the subtle whiff of its tuft. I lapped up the taste
Of its hot hollow. My fingers began to drift
On a trek of inspection, a leisurely tour of the waist.

Downward in narrowing circles they playfully strayed.
Encroached on his privates like poachers, approached the prick.
But teasingly swerved, retreated from meeting. It betrayed
Its pleading need by a pretty imploring kick.

"Shall I rim you?" I whispered. He shifted his limbs in assent,
Turned on his side and opened his legs, let me pass
To the dark parts behind. I kissed as I went
The great thick cord that ran back from his balls to his arse.

Prying the buttocks aside, I nosed my way in
Down the shaggy slopes. I came to the puckered goal.
It was quick to my licking. He pressed his crotch to my chin.
His thighs squirmed as my tongue wormed in his hole.

His sensations yearned for consummation. He untucked
His legs and lay panting, hot as a teen-age boy.
Naked, enlarged, charged, aching to get sucked,
Clawing the sheet, all his pores open to joy.

I inspected his erection. I surveyed his parts with a stare
From scrotum level. Sighting along the underside
Of his cock, I looked through the forest of pubic hair
To the range of the chest beyond rising lofty and wide.

I admired the texture, the delicate wrinkles and the neat
Sutures of the capacious bag. I adored the grace
Of the male genitalia. I raised the delicious meat
Up to my mouth, brought the face of its hard-on to my face.

Slipping my lips round the Byzantine dome of the head,
With the tip of my tongue I caressed the sensitive groove.
He thrilled to the trill. "That's lovely!" he hoarsely said.
"Go on! Go on!" Very slowly I started to move.

Gently, intently, I slid to the massive base
Of his tower of power, paused there a moment down
In the warm moist thicket, then began to retrace
Inch by inch the smooth way to the throbbing crown.

Indwelling excitements swelled at delights to come
As I descended and ascended those thick distended walls.
I grasped his root between left forefinger and thumb
And with my right hand tickled his heavy voluminous balls.

I plunged with a rhythmical lunge steady and slow,
And at every stroke made a corkscrew roll with my tongue.
His soul reeled in the feeling. He whimpered, "Oh!"
As I tongued and squeezed and rolled and tickled and swung.

Then I pressed on the spot where the groin is joined to the cock,
Slipped a finger into his arse and massaged him from inside.
The secret sluices of his juices began to unlock.
He melted into what he felt. "O Jesus!" he cried.

Waves of immeasurable pleasures mounted his member in quick
Spasms. I lay still in the notch of his crotch inhaling his sweat
His ring convulsed round my finger. Into me, rich and thick,
​His hot spunk spouted in gouts, spurted in jet after jet.
by W. H. Auden


ON MY COUCH

My friend lies on my couch, his legs extended across my lap.
I see his face, dark and handsome, smiling
But my heart sees another, fairer and further than the furthest star
Like some exotic familiar song I can't get out of my head.
I heard it long ago. Or was it yesterday on the phone?

I nod, I smile, he laughs at himself, at me.
My hands are touching touching touching
Hairy and smooth but rough and rugged
Like leather worn and used a long time.
Furry. Cozy. Comforting like a child's toy.

Maybe the way you will feel,
In a million years when at last
At least the tip of my finger
Can touch and feel the one I love for real.
The dream someday, someday.
Someday?

The smell of man. Animal. Smokey. Spicy.
Strong muscles. He spreads his legs.
It's stronger there. Sweat and something else.
Silver belt buckle loosened.
The steam from inside released
A silver star in my head,
An essence, a nectar only a man can make.
From beneath the tufts, thick, black, moist wire
Wild, strong, potent. Life and death desire!

One button, two buttons, maybe it was three. I look away.
Brown skin rises, falls, slow deep breaths. My body needs, needs, needs.
My eyes, my nose, my ears, my skin, my heart bleads!
I touch his foot instead
He yawns
I smile and wiggle his toes. His damp sock half off.
He stretches.
Legs stiff like my cock, halfcocked.
Stuffed way down inside my dreams beneath the jocks and jeans.
Not to be seen or felt or smelt.
It is for someone else!

Someday.
In another world of not so much flesh
And flush of skin
And rush of blood
And short of breath
And beating, beating, beating of heart.

He finally sits up!
"I must leave. My wife is expecting me and child will miss her baba."
I didn't know I was holding my breath
Oxygen enters my brain.
I'm thinking thinking thinking again
Human not animal
A quick hug and kiss, like men who kiss in public.
Firm. Sure and quick
Lips lightly lick
"Uh, I'll see you again soon? Thanks for hosting"

He's gone and here I am
Still with words unsaid
Kisses unkissed
And nothing checked off my list.
I close the door and return to my room
With lingering smell of feet and sweat and no regret.
I close my eyes and there you are
Like always
Laughing, smiling, loving me
On my couch, legs extended across my lap.

Bearcode: B5 f+ t+ w+ d+ g++ k+ r+ s m+
The Natural Bears Classification System: https://www.cs.cmu.edu/afs/cs/user/scotts/ftp/bulgarians/bear-code.html

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