I'm a Top

By Otto Coca, 5.31.2001

The Basics:

• Location: Chelsea NYC USA
• Age: 29 and holding
• Bodytype: Muscle bound
• Physical Description: Tall good looking, smooth, perfect teeth
• Height/weight Proportion: perfect, 12% body fat
• Outness: Everyone but my family
• Relationship Looking for?: Long-Term/Short-term/Sex/Hiking

Tastes:

• Favorite Movie: Titanic! I've seen it 7 times! Really!
• Favorite music: Everything! All types of disco, techno and house. If it's got a diva wailing over it, I love it!
• Music I hate: Country, Metal and Rap
• Favorite Book: Anything I can learn from and gay romance novels.
• Favorite vacation spot: In a k-hole
• Favorite food: Met-Rx peanut butter and Banana bars. 28 slamming grams of high-quality protein! Excellent!

Personality:

• Scene: Activist, Circuit boy, Military
• Butch/Femme: Butch
• Morning/Night? Um…both?
• Preferred place to live? Big City/Gay Mecca

The Rest:

• Religion: Buddhist. Me, Edwina Monsoon & Tina Turner!
• Job: Personal Trainer/Pharmaceutical Researcher
• Alcohol use: Socially
• Drug use: Socially
• Piercing: So 1998!
• Tattoos: A snake on my hip and a huge rainbow flag with stars on my left 18" bicep. (But I'm thinking of getting it covered up with something more tasteful.)
• In my free time: I help gay youth with their workout routines. It's never too young to start looking good, but for some it's already too late.

Hello to everyone from MuscleStud99X!

Thanks all of you for responding to my personal ad. I have never placed an Internet ad before, but since the web has been so effective getting me laid, why can't it find me love too! I'm really serious about finding my 'Special Guy' for the Summer 2002 season and I sincerely hope that you, <- enter name -> make the finals. It's amazing that based only on my tastefully nude picture and the sentence, 'I'm a top", that I would get so much action. I got over a 100 responses and that was after cutting out all the guys who live more then 30 minutes away from 23rd and Eighth. I've now narrowed my search for true love down to you special 58 guys. You all either have hot bodies and large cocks or you seem to share my passions and interests while having hot bodies and large cocks. Now that I have chosen you, I think it's only fair that you get to know a little more about me. Please forgive the impersonal nature of this form letter but I just can't respond to you each individually or I would never get to the gym.

Ok, down to business!

First things first: Yes, I am really a top. And no, I've never really been fucked. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like some attention in the downtown area, and if my 'Special Guy' wants to kiss and cuddle my bronze BatCave of Love, I'm certainly not going to be as selfish a lover like my last boyfriend. (BTW, he goes by the screen name Bigmonster88. Be on the lookout all you runners-up!) But other then a rim job and maybe a well-manicured finger or two, my butt is strictly 'Exit Only'. And yes, BigPopiMan64, there have been a few times when I came close to losing my hard earned 'Exclusive Top' status. Like when I was at the Black Party last year some nasty daddy type guy started rubbing my tits and stuff and trying to get some backdoor action with me. I was just standing in the orgy room (the one on the second floor, not the sleazy one in the basement) minding my own business when I suddenly felt a hand on my bare ass and then this rush of electricity run through my body. It's so unlike me, really, I don't know if it was the music, the smell of his leather gloves or the GBH, but the next thing I know I'm bent over a vinyl sawhorse and I'm enjoying the attention of his pecker against my poopchute. The funny thing was that he was totally NOT my type! He had this hairy chest and way too much dangling jewelry in places where you should really only have studs or a simple ring. I think he might have been a skinhead but it's hard to tell nowadays since the Nazi-look isn't so hot anymore. His moves were so smooth that if it wasn't for the 3-gauge ring in his cockhead, I might have never felt a thing. Fortunately, my best friend Donny (who weighs more then I and is 8 months older) was witness to the entire event and at just the right moment, he slurred, "I always knew you were a dick-hungry man-bitch. Take daddy's cock deep and moan like the girly slut you are! Well, that set me straight, so to speak. At the magic words 'man-bitch', I popped right up, adjusted my thong and headed for the bar. Donny came over sheepishly and I bought him a Bud Light for literally saving my ass. The next day, when I realized how close I came to losing my reputation as an 'Exclusive Top', I actually cried. But I think it might have just been the after effects of the X.

That brings me to the fact that I'm only looking for smart guys, like my best friend Donny. He has a rule that he will only date doctors, or others in the Medical-type professions. I admire that eye-of-the-tiger attitude, but once Donny tossed off a perfectly good lawyer for a plain looking psychiatrist who was two cans shy of a six-pack. (abdominally, not mentally, of course.) When I asked Donny why, he gave me his sweet glazed over stare and said, "Musclestud, I always choose prescriptions over penetration." And knowing the way Donny likes penetration that must have been love.

Okay, enough about my asshole. What about yours? When I was reading the questionnaires that I asked you all to fill out, I was amazed by the amazing variety of positions and places that guys like to get it from behind in. I think some of you can teach me a thing or two. Like for instants, ButtBanquet29, how did you ever think of using buttermilk and sangria for an enema? Are you Mexican? Do you pit the fruit first? Also, while your picture settles all doubts, I still can't believe that anyone would want to do that with a Jalapeno no matter how much you enjoy the 'tingle'. I think I want to meet you but I'm gonna pass on the dinner invite. Don't get me wrong, I like a good meal but to keep a body like this, a guy's gotta watch what he puts in his mouth.

And speaking of eating, food is very important to me. Seriously. I like really excellent meals, the kind of meals that someone like Emeril or those fat chicks on Food TV can make. (But not that Iron Chef stuff cause eel and crap is fatty and gross.) I think food is so important that I insist that my "Special Guy" also like food too. You know what I mean? Don't be e-mailing me if you don't like good meals cause I can tell. If we're at a nice restaurant of my choosing and I catch you eating an underdone steak, or pasta that's not al dente, well, you're out. I won't put up with that. When I say rare, I want it rare, not medium. (Private to AllyMcbealLover75, I admire your willpower, but I insist that all food stay down at least forty-five minutes to count as 'dinner') I love Italian food. I'm ¼ Italian on my Mom's side and if you think some Prego sauce on noodles is good eating, then you're not my soul mate. And that's what I'm looking for, a soul mate that appreciates my cultural style. Even when I'm training, I take the time out to have at least one meal of solid food a week and then it's a night out at the Olive Garden. I just don't let myself fill up on the breadsticks even if they are 'all-you-can-eat'. When you're riding with me, my little analvice, it's class all the way. I want to drink my Moet with strawberries just like Richard Gere in 'Pretty Woman', pour Hennessey down the small of your back like an early LL Cool J video (obviously, hairy back boys need not apply), and smear your smooth, round pecs with some sort of non-fat whipped cream substitute. If this sounds like you, then you want me. I've spent a lot of time in the gym getting right with myself and working out my issues. I know that I'm worth the man who is a perfect reflection of me. And only that person should respond. All others, let's not waste each other's time! I can't help it. These are the little details that separate us from the apes.

Other things I love? I love adventure! I'm totally the sort of guy that likes to go on safaris or travel through the Outback like on Survivor and shit. That is totally me. But I want to do it with food and a 4X4 or something cause rice is gonna fuck up my diet. If you have a 4X4 and have a copy of Let's Go: Outback, that's a definite plus! And when I meet the guy that wants to do stuff like that, and is really hot and well-hung, I'm going to do it. You can't hold me back. I'm burning man. Touch my fire. Think about it: You, me and our big-dicked sunburned blonde Aussie guide named Sven or Hans. Traveling the outback, hunting for dingo's and petting the kangaroos and stuff. Sven/Hans would have just gotten out of high school where he was a star soccer player. Football, soccer, whatever, either way he wouldn't be shy about hanging out naked in front of two butch numbers like us. From the moment we hit the road, he would be shirt-less with his nipples brown and hard from the sun with his smooth chest just filling out as his boyish frame transitions to manhood. His thick tanned thighs covered with a soft layer of invisible sun-bleached hairs that disappear into his tiny khaki shorts that bunch up so tight in the crotch when he squats. And he squats a lot. He ends our first day on the road by taking us to a secret spot that isn't even in a Lonely Planet guide, a sexy waterfall where he and his friends come to get drunk on the weekends. "Ay," says Sven/Hans, "me and my mates come out here and bring our 'birds.'" In Australian "bird" means girls, but I'll give him that look which says, "Yeah, right, buddy. I got your bird right here."

You'll be unpacking the tent or something.

Sven/Hans will then strip off his boots and shorts, "Ay, mates, we don't need no stinking swimsuits in Oz!" You and I will smile and watch as this lanky hunk of teenage boy lust hits the water and does a slow back float at the surface, his uncut cock poking into the air like a fuck snorkel. We both dive in seconds later, naked and sporting hard-ons that Sven/Hans notices but laughs off, "Ay, yeah, ain't Australia beautiful? Really gets your blood up, don't it?" After an hour or so of good-natured splashing around and a semi-obscene game of Marco polo, we lie back on the rocks and let the sun warm us.

As you and I lay together, deep in the rapture of our love, we watch as Naked Sven/Hans goes off to some bushes where he squats and pulls at some leaves. I grab your nipple as we both stare into Sven/Han's peachfuzzy anus and watch his pinkpucker tense and release with every tug on the leaves. You laugh shyly as I call to him, 'Sven! (or Hans!) Stand up straight, your dick is getting dirty!" Sven/Hans turns quickly, and grabs as his cloaked cockhead that has been resting on the ground since he squatted. He shakes his dick at me as if I should be insulted; instead we both pop wood that neither of us tries to hide as he returns.

"Ay, mates, this is traditional Aussie sun block I got out of the Ogga-Booga plant over there. My grandpa taught me this trick when I was a boy. Want me to show you how to put it on?" The sun is behind Sven/Hans and we squint to see him. His silhouette is perfect and casting an erotic shadow over our touching bodies. I can't help but notice that his shadow cock is dangling right over your firm tan-lineless ass. Sven/Hans crouches over me with his slick manroot balm and when his soft, fat pink prick accidentally slaps against my upper thigh, I throw all caution to the wind and grab his turgid ballsack. Minutes later, Sven/Han's ass is our lunch-box and we both help ourselves to a vegemite sandwich. I'm so turned on right this second that I swear I can hear Olivia Newtown-John singing 'Xanadu'.

Which brings me to my other love: Music. I love music. All kinds. From Hi-NRG to Disco classics and everything in-between. I have every CD that my gym has and then some. I love to party and dance, but sometimes, I like to just chill with some old skool Swing Out Sister or Sade. I also like classical. I'm totally a believer that not all music needs words. I go to the clubs a lot, but I'm strictly there for the music. The X and blowjobs are merely a side benefit to me.

When you respond to this letter with your three pictures (remember, one full body!) and your twenty-dollar processing fee, tell me what kind of music you like. I can act really interested in anything you like. I have a lot of experience with relationships. But let me tell you right now that don't even think your getting with me if you don't hate "rap, metal and country". I wouldn't be caught dead with a guy who liked that shit. I know that I'm going out on a limb with that one and I'm probably damning myself to a life of muscle-bound celibacy, but this is not something I'm gonna back down on. I gotta be true to myself. I can deal with anything else, prefer Tori over Fionia? Fine. Personally, I can't tell the fucking difference. They both sound like they have their heads buried in Kate Bush's snatch if you ask me. I mean really, where do they find these chicks? Is Warner Brothers trolling some teenage re-hab somewhere looking for the most supremely disturbed inmates? Why don't they just donate a thousand guitars to Bulimia clinics all over the country and put out a box set? Whatever, but I'm not the type of guy who is going to dictate my views on people. You should be independent and possess your own wisdom of Free Will, as long as you agree with me.

And what do I do with my free time? I go to the gym 3X or 4X a week. That's deeply relevant to my psyche but I'm not sure why. Hopefully, I will meet a guy, who likes good meals and hates rap, country and metal, and he'll explain it to me.

One last thing: body types. This may sound kinky and unusual, but I really get off on a guy with a lanky swimmers-build type. Someone who's hairless, preferably blond and has nice white teeth. Sorry you Orthodontic Donnas, but no brown-toothed trolls for me! Also guys who are over 30 and yet still refer to themselves as a 'boy'. What a turn on! Please when we meet, wear a baseball cap so you look youthful and 'collegiate'. Wear it turned backwards and I just might cum on the spot! You ever notice that a guy could be forty or so, and yet, in a baseball cap and baggy pants, he's a sexy 25 all over again. It's a gay miracle. When I was in the asylum, um, I mean, on vacation, I did it with this guy who thought he was Napoleon, so I love role-play! If you would call yourself a 'boi', even better! I'll play along! Sometimes, living in this bubble of CK1 and attitude, I wish silently to myself so no one will know (unless they are reading my lips which I move unconsciously) that more then anything else, I want to have the man that will make all my friends drool. It's not for me, you understand. I can put my ego aside, see, It's not like I want to be the best looking, most handsome guy in the room, I just want the best-looking, most handsome guy in the room to WANT ME. Is that asking too much?

Finalist will be notified by E-mail within two weeks. In case of a tie, the top five finalists will be invited to a private party where they will be put through a 45-minute Tae Bo routine while rectally clenching a Jeff Stryker Super-realistic dildo with moveable balls. Light snacks and poppers will be provided. Please bring a clean towel.

Copyright © 2001, Otto Coca.