I caught up with my buddy Chet, to talk about sex and his explorations of ‘pig’ side. Chet has to remain anonymous for this interview due to the nature of his work.
On a scale of 0=vanilla to 5=pig, where would you rate yourself?
Would you describe your sexual evolution as having become more raw and pig-like over the years?
Yes, but not in a continuously progressive manner. The behavioural change has been episodic and explorative. The mental aspect has greatly outpaced the physical. Both trend raw.
What are some of the encounters or experiences that have helped you explore that more pig-like side of your sexuality?
To me, the term ‘pig’ — unlike bear or otter — doesn’t describe the man based on physical characteristics. I loathe the term piggy because it’s diminutive, almost feminine. Pig, to me, derives instead from practice. However, pig also has to contend with value judgement — dirty pig, nasty pig, kinky pig, perverted — from within the gay community, and I internalised some of this negativity. That slowed my shift from ‘pig practice’ to ‘pig identity.’
My first sexual experience was blow job I gave to a stranger who sat across from me on the subway one night on the way home from Manhattan. There were two guys sitting across from me and I wanted to suck both guys. I grabbed my crotch and licked my lips at the men. My first choice, was a very fit guy but I was so horny and any dick would do. The other man, who was in fairly good shape, took me up on my offer. He led me behind tall shrubbery near an apartment complex at the end of the subway line in Brooklyn and I knelt down as he opened up his trousers and tugged down his briefs. I don’t remember how big he was but I do remember how much we both enjoyed it, and I remember swallowing his load. I was 18 or 19 and he was 30 something. I hadn’t come out to myself even. This anonymous cum guzzling gave me both guilt and a thrill. The second time in some adult bookstore, there was no guilt about swallowing.
I got out of the active-duty army and went to a large public university. While there, I came out in my second semester and started dating shortly thereafter. That was a mistake! I wasn’t mature enough for a relationship, and the guy and I weren’t compatible, but that’s what first — and second and third — relationships are for. After a couple weeks of vanilla sex with him, I got up the courage to eat his ass. I’m an ass man, and while I liked tonguing his hairy ass, I didn’t enjoy it because he didn’t enjoy it — he was too squeamish — too prissy.
On the way home from spring break, I stopped at an adult bookstore and hooked up with a guy who was slightly older than me. I ate his beefy muscular ass for about 20 minutes and he loved it. He had no issue kissing after that which was intuitive and exciting to me. He was the first guy to fuck me raw and breed me. When I got home to my boyfriend, I confessed what I’d done and the relationship ended. I was free! I learned how much I really like ass, and skin to skin.
For the remainder of my undergrad and graduate time, I whored bookstores, nude beaches, rest areas, and other cruising spots. My instinct for submitting to aggressive physical encounters with masculine men hit a turning point during this period.
The first encounter was with a sailor in a bookstore north of Boston. Typically, I’d go in a booth to fool around. This sailor wanted an audience, so he stood in the hallway and whipped out his meat. I knelt in front of him. He put his hands on my head and fucked my face. His masculine aggressiveness was amplified by the audience that gathered around. His nuts were bouncing off my chin as he got more physical and verbal until he shot and made me swallow. I had a hold of his muscular ass and loved the rock hard feel of those muscles as his cock swelled and he fed me his load. He kept his left hand on my head as his dick gave up its final drops while with his right hand he lightly slapped my face. “Good faggot…” he said lovingly. I was a good faggot. Inter-service cock became an instant favourite. I also lost my sense of shame.
The second encounter happened when my car gave me trouble at a rest stop. A state police officer pulled in while I was under the hood. He pulled up next to me, asked what was wrong, and had a listen to the car engine. He offered to follow me back to my place to ensure I got there safely because he was going that way anyway and was going off duty. Thankfully my car made it back to the apartment, and I thanked the officer. He asked if he could come in and change before he went home to his wife. Sure, I said. When we got inside he started changing in my living room and he stopped in his underwear. He wore low-rise white briefs that could barely contain his enormous meat. ‘Get on your knees, Son…’ was all he had to say. The next hour or so was aggressive masculine behaviour as his 6’3” 225 pound body pushed my 5’10″ 150 pound body to the limit. Submission was solidified as pleasure.There was a comfort in feeling a physically larger man against my whole body, whose pleasure was what mattered, knowing that I was the conduit to release that pleasure. I learned that I liked aggressive pounding and that I could take it.
I started thinking about piss-play a lot while I was deployed. I dreamt of finding the right top to take me to a leather bar with a trough urinal and make me kneel beside it so select men could unload in my mouth. Piss fantasy is about all I have, though I have drunk my own piss on cam for a couple guys who were interested in watching. This is a big interest I want to explore more.
My travels have enabled to me to get to baths in Atlanta, New Orleans, New York City, and other cities. I think the best fucks were at Flex, though Steamworks has been good too. Bald muscle dads were what I sought, followed by muscle, tall, and hairy, and any other interested men. What I learned to appreciate was how easily twenty or so naked men can get into a anonymous sexual fuck frenzy. This doesn’t happen all the time, but I learned how masculine bareback mindless group fucking is a transcendent experience.
I made Saint Andrew my patron saint about six years ago. I went to a nude men’s camp where there was ‘fuck shed’ with a St. Andrew’s cross. I’d been very horny after flirting with a beefy man at the camp. He helped me get my ankle and wrist restraints fastened. The camp was in the southern US, and the day was blazing hot. Regardless of the heat, I lasted for four hours bound to that cross, because of the sexual intensity. After that time, my leg muscles were worn out and I got down. My buddy gave me a couple gulps of water and then put on me on the sling and fucked me raw until I finally came. After that he had two buddies give me my first double penetration breeding. My buddy ate my ass after that pounding and then we made out like teenagers. This really demonstrated to me that my runner’s body and ass was able to take endurance poundings, that I could refrain from cumming, and that extreme penetration was very pleasurable.
These experiences have helped move me from someone who was role-playing, to someone who knows himself and who is comfortable in that pig identity.
How do you currently explore the more Pig-like sides of your sexuality?
I’m fairly content to enjoy what I’ve explored already but there are some activities that I would like to get to, like fisting.
I keep an 11-inch long thick dildo for my own pleasure, and will cam with some men.
How do you connect and meet with guys who want the same kind of sexual encounters that you want?
I’m trying to figure this out actually. Camming and social media don’t have a lot of appeal to me. Old-fashioned websites like Craigslist tend to have minimal crowds. Baths occasionally, and bookstores, have to suffice until I find something that might be of interest.
If someone was interested in exploring this more Pig-like style of sex, what advice or guidance would you give them.
Read, reference, and maybe watching porn with Dawson or porn by BBRTS or other BB studios. Mainly, I recommend that you trust your instinct, know your limits, don’t believe real life is like porn, and know what you’re willing to risk.
We want to hear your opinion
Word of the Day: Chacal
Travelling to Mexico City? Add this to your vocabulary.
Chacal is a term used in Mexico City — it describes a masculine guy who fucks other guys. A rough top.
The Urban Dictionary helpfully shows how to use the term Chacal in a sentence: “Total bottoms love chacales…”
Let’s put to one side for the moment the ridiculous labelling as anyone as a ‘total bottom’ — just because a guy enjoys a bit of anal play doesn’t define his identity — but you get the idea.
In some ways, Chacal is the Mexican version of Masc4Masc — but Latino culture has a complicated obsession with all things macho. In places like Mexico City, your identity as a man, your masculinity, is defined by how you project a macho image to the world. Being gay isn’t easily reconciled with being macho. The chacales are trying to have it both ways — projecting an uber-macho image to the world, and totally getting off on having sex with guys.
In the interests of cross-cultural investigative research, here’s some examples of guys who seem to me to be channelling a bit of the Chacal vibe.
Chacal. It’s our word of the day.
Word of the Day: Chacal
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