666BEAR

Deep down I’m a reading, Barnes & Noble loving, coffee slurping kinda guy. I consider myself a rather intelligent intellectual-wannabe. Basically I just really just want to have a good time with people and have friends, fuck my brains out, and develop a fabulous furry entourage. I love board game nights where I can get to know people better than in a loud club, so I’m hoping to get regular game things going… not D&D stuff, I mean like Cards Against Humanity and Pictionary kinda stuff. 

I am a major exhibitionist, as I love to fuck and get fucked on video (yeah, total versatile). I love cigars and my pipe, and I find sharing them to be an very sensual, sexual experience. I work out and I love going to the gym so that I can have that point where I change in the locker room and shower with the other guys there. I don’t understand why this is what turns me on so much, but it is. I love to fuck in public, on film, in groups, in slings, and I just wanna get fucking nasty.

I find this, what I’m about to say, often annoys people to say it, but it remains a fact: I am still trying to find what I like and what I’m into. I know you’d probably prefer a ready made person who already knows but I’m still stuck in this limbo, wanting to find someone ready to show somebody like me the ropes.

But what I do know, I can say. I am crazy about daddy type men. It’s my attraction, not so much that I want to be a boy, nor submissive. I want to be a daddy dom in fact, but I only really feel attracted to men, older and daddy in look. And I can’t lead in things I’ve no experience in myself. So for me to try being what is actually meant by daddy is the blind leading the blind.

I am versatile as fuck. I’m not just saying that. I’m not going to pretend to be a top only to arrive and throw my heels in the air, as is the typical assumption (although that assumption falls into the bottom shaming that I find distasteful). I am in just as much fucking love with sliding into a hot hairy ass and pounding it for a long while, as I am with having a man do the same to me. Oh, but I should mention my particular skill as a top is that after I come I stay hard for a long time, and I always figure, why not keep fucking. So my load doesn’t mean I’m anywhere near done. That being said, I love getting fucked too, and have never really gotten that gang bang that everyone brags about. Probably couldn’t handle one anyway, but up to the challenge I guess.

I have to admit, I would rather not swallow. To me, swallowing is the waste of cum, because I fucking love getting showered with tons of thick cum dripping down my chest. If I finish the night looking like a murder scene when you run the black light over me, that is my personal heaven.

No interest in fisting, cannot tolerate pain or shit. I have PTSD and fight a lot of anxiety, and pain sets it off. I really do fight it, but that doesn’t mean I want someone to just staple things to me or make me scream in agony or anything, because that is NOT my thing. Maybe the right experiences could help with that. I wouldn’t know. That would require patience and guidance, and so far I’ve found nobody who plans to give me that.

But if I trust you, tie me down after negotiation about what you’re gonna do to me. Bring it on, daddy bears. There’s gotta be a fucking stud who wants to make a daddy out of me. Not just what I’ve had so far. Two different relationships with bit leather men, and with each, after a year of being with the man “so into leather” they both still had me waiting for my first experience. Yeah, that was two different relationships I’ve had now. Thankfully my last guy took me through some scenes, but I really didn’t turn out to be the guy he needed. Still good friends though. Hell, still play sometimes too.

Neg on Prep, and I wear the Mr. Friendly button. I am not afraid.

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And if you only wanted to read happy positive stuff, stop now. 

I’m up front about a lot of things, because I want to be. Getting them out in the open is the best way to not have any of it be a nasty surprise to people. Wish more did that. Not that I’m a nasty person, but I’m enough of what fair-weather people want to pass on by, and I have no time for that.

It’s been a really, really lonely life. I have had to do damned near everything alone, and I am actually quite tired of that, but I have been quite tired of that for a long time and it doesn’t seem to change. I’ve lived in so many places and have yet to find anywhere where that isn’t the case.

And my own problems are to blame for a bit of that, definitely, but they are my challenges and I’m doing the best I can to fight them without letting them be the reason… so why it seems nobody really means it when they say they want to be friends is beyond me. But trying to find someone who actually means it has been like trying to find Wonka’s golden fucking ticket, so you’ll have to forgive me if I sound cynical.

I struggle with PTSD, and not from any war. I have had these symptoms since elementary school. They make it really difficult to manage social interactions, but I still try. When I have to fight this hard for it, I value what little bit of interaction I can get, which makes is really frustrating to see people toss each other in the trash over such small, petty reasons. It would be like someone in a wheelchair for the rest of their life having to listen to someone griping about having to walk somewhere.

And that’s what I fight for. At some point I hope to find friends that I feel so comfortable with, that we hang out and do things with, and don’t even think about it. Instead I rarely find I have one I feel comfortable enough to call on the phone. My cross section of humanity has been a horrid one, but then it is hard for me to meet new people. I hate this, and I don’t need lectured about it. I know I’m the common element in all these situations, but I also know that I find it hard to believe I’ve met this many really horrible people. That actually can happen, and it happened to me. And there’s a reason:

When you’re broke, people don’t really want you around. They think you’ll want something from them. But I don’t. I just want friends.

I live away from the city. Too far away to be able to get out and do much of anything with people. That’s my luck. When I CAN find community, it’s always a proximity problem. I have no vehicle and live where the mass transit doesn’t really go. So I’m trying to figure something out for housing. Because I feel trapped out here and really dislike the depression it’s causing me.

I’ve lived in Houston, Arkansas, Nashville, Atlanta, Louisville, Tucson, and now I’m in the Bay Area. In Louisville I started a bear group, but there was too much drama with my crazy-as-hell ex and so many nutcases that I regretted that group and left that town with zero regrets in doing so. Just turned out they were masters of spreading bullshit. Never. NEVER start a bear group. 

I’m as nonreligious as it gets, to the point where I’m even allergic to things spiritual. But it’s only because I’ve seen a lot of disasters result from spirituality, and I really don’t want repeats. I’ve had people reject me just as badly in the new age world as in Christianity, just because I didn’t accept the bullshit notion that the chaotic mystery of quantum mechanics means humans manifest their realities magically.Bull. Fucking. Shit. With 2/3 of the population being in poverty, I refuse to believe they are manifesting it onto themselves, and am sick of worldviews going around judging the fuck out of people but then telling me that I have to respect their delusional religions. Religion gives too many people excuses to hate, blame, and scapegoat, and it’s causes too many people to fight others for no real reason. No god ever told any of you anything, so drop it.

Then when there was a president elected that had too much melanin for them, I wouldn’t let them blindly insist he was a Muslim Socialist coming for their guns, etc., and the south started becoming a scary place to be, the threats against me added up, and I got the hell out of there and never looked back.

I’ve never felt I belonged anywhere as much as I feel I belong in the Bay. I’m far too liberal and a total atheist. I’ve dedicated my life to trying to live down to my reputation, because it’s been greatly exaggerated and seems a hell of a lot more exciting than the reality. I listen to the gossip about me just to get ideas of things to do.

And what they couldn’t overlook was that, no, I do not have a job. Mostly I cannot keep one. Not because I didn’t want to work. And no, I do not want anything from anybody either. I am fighting to get disability because what I’ve always wanted was to be self-sufficient. 

I’ve only recently been diagnosed with PTSD and social phobia, since it’s hard to really get proper analysis when you’re without funds, so that means I had to do over three decades not knowing why I didn’t get better or what it was that was wrong. Maybe if I knew the name of it I wouldn’t have made so many enemies, each of them suspicious about me because of that. Had they only gotten to know me. I don’t want money. I want money to stop hurting people.

But now that I understand PTSD I realize I’ve had it since before I was even ten, and even tried to convey these symptoms to family, but they refused to listen. I’ve left them on the other side of the country without them knowing where I am, and cut off all conversation without regrets. The flashbacks and social phobia with which I still struggle to this day means they’re still more a part of my life than I want them to be.

Anybody who thinks I ever wanted to live at the whim of others supporting me doesn’t know me and doesn’t understand the impact mental illness has on people. Nor do they understand what it’s like to be at the mercy of people who, I’m sorry to say, made me look sane. I mean I have PTSD, but I never manipulated or lied to people like I see people do to each other. I value community and friends too much to let stupid things like money ruin it. I want nothing from you but accompaniment during fun times. That’s all any of us want.

Abuse hurts a person and then that person goes on to be judged and hurt further for what’s not their fault. People like me try not to be angry about it, try to be the better person, but I’ve gotten over the idea that I should have the burden of being the better person thrust onto me. I gave up because so many people get angry at mentally ill, unemployed people like me as though it’s our fault the country is in debt or unstable. It’s an insanity that people have to pass, and with so many now understanding it better these days (the only silver lining to so many jobs lost the past decade), it’s good to see people are understanding. They fought for healthcare reform and to stop the unfair judgment on the poor.

And now that many consider bullying and homophobia to be extremely important issues of our community, that’s also given me encouragement. Although I do have to say something to the jaded:

I fight like crazy through social phobia because I don’t want it to beat me, but it’ll never be an easy fight for me. For this reason, when I see people who go to gay events and roll their eyes about it being typical or annoying, and I see that they don’t really want to live life and experience things, to me it’s like being starving on the street afraid of where your next meal is coming from, and then watching some judge on Top Chef whining that his foie gras wasn’t seasoned just properly. 

Community means everything. It’s not a weakness or an annoyance. It’s the world we surround ourselves with. It can strengthen us or kill us. Children don’t kill themselves just because someone calls them a faggot, but because they’re in a community that has convinced them that being one is worse than dying. Community is strong enough to kill us, and it’s strong enough to give us strength and life. If you’re lucky to be in one that gives you something to do and places to be where you’re not shamed and abused, appreciate it, goddammit! You could be there where kids are still feeling like dying. Instead you’re at a party. Check your fucking privilege, princess.

I believe in the Trevor Project, and I believe the gay community has GOT to get cracking about helping the young gays out there, because I know what I had to go through to get out of my mess, and I can imagine there are many who are worse off than me. We can’t call ourselves a gay community if we forget to care for each other like a COMMUNITY. We get it. It’s a trend to put in your profile that you don’t want a boy and you don’t want to be bothered by kids. But then complain about the next gay generation not getting what the previous ones went through. Communities have to pass knowledge on or they leave neglected youth without guidance and wisdom. 

And I don’t take it lightly that we should be not “flaunting our sexuality” out there. Screw that. I’m unashamed and I am all about the right to be out there as myself. Ergo no headless people will receive responses from me. Show yourself in your profile. And no, I don’t want to play with the “curious” who want to be discreet. If you’re just gonna have some gay sex and then go back to your disguise, doing nothing to advance our kind’s position in this world, or even going back to helping to advance the shame of homosexuality, then you don’t deserve to even taste the benefits. Out! OUT I SAY!!!

I am the author of the book, Bible Studies from an Asshole, and you can find me as 666Bear on BDSMlr, the Tumblr replacement site. Other places I am online:

• Twitter as @SixSixSixBear
• Facebook 666BEAR Page
  
• Bear411 as SixSixSix
• BareBackRT because apparently everyone’s on there now
• HotCigarMen as 666Bear
• And on Scruff, Growlr, and Grrr as 666BEAR