Just A Head's Up

I know some of you are curious about how I sound.  I've started a new twitter account with a link to my reading of my 45/45 pieces.  I hope you check it out at https://twitter.com/kondescendkunt.  Thank you again for your continued readership and support. Cheers! :) VH

From Hate, I Remember Love (11/45)

Received my first death threat email last night along with two of my pieces flagged for deletion.

For those who need an end to my project, you only have 34 more days!  You don't need to off me!

To help me regain perspective, I would like to share some of the kind, friendly notes some of you have sent me.  I may not get to answer all of them, because of the daily nature of the project, I contact first the Charlottesville people who express specific plans or fantasies, show themselves to be interesting as well as interested, and send me face pictures instead of typical headless in the first ad response.  But, I do appreciate that all of you took time to respond.

“Intriguing story, definitely drew my attention.” NS

 “Hi! I though your cl post was very intriguing. You had me at Arnold Palmer's” VL

“Hi I am really intrigued by these meetings.” EW

“Hello there!  First, I'd just like to say that your ad is a breath of fresh air on Craigslist.  98% of the casual encounters W4M ads on here are laughably fake, you at least seem real.” BH

“All of your posts have been making me extremely horny. “ TR

“Hey There, You certainly have a unique CL posting.  I would love to know more about your writing project and how you handle, what I imaging are, horrible responses.” PO

“That was totally hot!!! Love it:)” Anonymous

“It seems as if I elected to move from Charlottesville many years too soon.  Who knew that such a naughty, intelligent being would be there later?  One that could satisfy me both mentally and physically. “ AB

“In the early morning light,
   I dreamed of you...
Kissing your lips,
   My fingers running thru your hair...

In the pale moonlight,
   You were standing
By the great Oak tree,
   Calling my name...
Come to thee

Whispers on the winds of time,
   Turning, rolling in my mind
Fire burning
   Brightly in my heart
Reaching across time
  Feeling your body
Next to mine...

Kissing and caressing,
   Rolling thru time
Dreaming in the...
   Pale Morning Light”
Anonymous

“ I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your posts. I bet you are a lot of fun!” DF

“I liked your craigs postings, especially the library one. Pretty hot, and daring. I am not a big Chaucer guy, or at least not yet :) Maybe you can turn me on to him? I'm more of a Cheever type. But I also have a strong background in Chinese poetry and early to mid 20th century American poetry. Regardless, here's mine. Would love to meet a woman intriguing enough to write such unique posts to craigs.

Forgiveness

The summer before fifth grade
we went to my uncle’s rectory
down the Cape for a week.
Monsignor Flaherty staked
tomatoes out by the garage
in a white t-shirt, cigarette
dangling from his pockmarked face.
My uncle said the bishop sent
him, thought the salt air
might keep him sober.
Besides, they needed someone
to say the early Mass in Latin
and absolve sins in Portuguese,
even if all in a brogue.

Flaherty owned two shaggy mutts,
Michael and Margaret, one brown,
the other black, one named after
a superior, the other the woman
who drove him into the priesthood.
The two people I like least in this world
he told us after supper one night.
I began to ask why he would name them
that way, but my mother cut me off
All right, off to bed now. Later I heard
her tell my father behind their closed door,
I don’t want him around that drunk.

He was sitting at the kitchen table reading
the Herald’s obituaries when I came down
early the next morning. The dogs licked
sand out of their paws from their walk.
I asked him about the names in a low voice.
He smiled, kept his eyes on the paper.
Because it seems to free my soul
of the animosity it holds against
those poor people when I say
Heel, Maggie! Sit, Michael!”
S

“Hello.  Today's post was the second one of your writings that I was fortunate enough to come across. Your style of writing is both intriguing and arousing. I extend a thank you for you choosing to share this project with us.” MR

“Wanted to let you know that I have been reading more of your ads/mini blogs on craigslist and I find them fascinating. I love the choice of language and tone.” WM

“Untitled

Somewhere between nothing done and my own damn fault
you find the words, buried in time, the time wasted long before
looking for a space to bury the words you've lost.
somewhere between the entrenched decision
and the long discarded task, where words alone,
buried in time, attest to times buried
in the space acquired, through constant
consistent begging, through profit, loss of an instant
carried through time, time and the words whose content timed
the con substantial being of such words: "What am I saying":
"What have I done": You know the answer at least
to one of those two questions, the irredeemable loss
of time's last word. You know for a moment
the spade digging through dirt, where memories dug
from somewhere dig back, and force dirt from the mind,
if buried too long in frozen moment, another question can surface
"How long has this task been about": Or rather "When did it start
and, "Where will it end?"
WD

“Hi,  I've greatly enjoyed reading your adventures.  Thank you for sharing. - A Fan “ AG

“I saw your ad and few days ago but did not respond.  Because of the post being up again,  I do not doubt your "realness".I find your project interesting.  And ad that length I normally would not read because I'd become bored lol. However I did read yours and did not lose my intrigue.” B

“That is so weird. (Hot, but weird). You honestly sound so sexy. Wow “ MS

“This ad interests me, seems like fun but don't know what to expect.” DM

Kondescending Kunt Unsolicited Online Dating Advice #8 What's Shame Got To Do With It?

Some of my friends and some of you Charlottesville craigslist readers think this project is a waste of time, and I am only going to broaden my network to include anonymous bullies, the painfully socially awkward, and craigslist killers and rapists.

But, I think this project has helped me see that a lot of the men on craigslist are dealing with some sort of shame.  And, it is the shame that drives them into the anonymity and the awkwardness.

I feel this, because when I am shameless and focus on what I want, some of the men shift from the normal craigslist tropes and invite me to do some of the most fascinating play I've never done.

Some, however, think that my sexual liberation must mean creating more shame in them.  They want me to engage in traditionally BDSM humiliation tactics with them such as golden showers, anonymous oral sex, anal stretching, and adult baby play.  They send me constant requests for this, even though all of the experiences I've shared are about glorification and exploration not glory holes and degradation.

Interesting, I advised one of my responders who was pretending to be a Charlottesville, sapiosexual,  UVA professor to find a dom chick who would want to do some of the things he asked.  Next, I see the familiar cucumber anal stretching request in the casual encounters from the very young man in Waynesborro who used to repeatedly advertise how he wanted a woman who wouldn't hurt him.  I don't pretend to know which he really wants, but I did notice the change in his tactics.

And, I think his choice to lie and poorly pretend to be what someone wanted does not stem from being an asshole but from shame.  If you are continuously honest about what you want and who you are and you get no attention, eventually shame sets in.  And, when you see someone asking for someone, you want to be that someone... at least to get what you want.  

This type of shame made one gentleman treat me first as a fraud.  Then, when he realized his accusations, secrecy, and mendacity might block him from a fun experience, he adjusted and was honest with me.  We hung out and did an exhibitionist photo shoot. 

However, another chose to try to shame me for taking the exhibitionist's photos and writing a poem about him, because he supposedly did not fit the appropriate, attractive male body image.  Only shaved or hairless, thin or athletic men deserve to be photographed or lusted after. As a larger, size activist familiar with how cruel people may be with fatter people, I saw this as more of the shamer's problems than problems with my photography or choice in model.

And, I've dealt with these type of "normal" people more interested in shaming than having fun in my regular, offline life.  I am sure you have too.  Maybe, that is what brings you here... a hope for a place where shame does not reign supreme.

Truly the Charlottesville craigslist casual encounters community isn't very different from the offline one.

I mean, women find plenty of the bullies, the socially awkward, the killers, and the rapists without ever looking at a casual encounter ad.

So, here's to the shameless Charlottesville craigslist guy!  I know you are out there and willing to play!  Thank you for making this project interesting, and my personal life more enriching!

My Piano Man (7/45)

He wrote:

"First, I am not a poet; I am a pianist. But, I really enjoyed the Wild Nights poem you wrote about. It reminded me of the Eddie and the Cruisers song "Wild Summer Nights." The movie also had another beautiful song called "Tender Years" with a sweet piano solo extro. Here, are the lyrics and here is my photo... Hope I have your interest.

When the moon hung soft and low
Catching stardust in the light
You held me closer and closer
There was magic in the night.

A sweet love song, a melody
That I still can recall
Two young hearts filled with dreams
To walk away with it all.

Whoa, whoa tender years
Won't you wash away my tears
How I wish you were near
Please don't go, tender years.

A summer love, a beach romance
Sought her kisses in the sand
Two young hearts filled with fire
Lost in never-neverland."

His response was surprisingly sweet. And, I remembered loving that movie. So, I met him on the front steps of the Music Resource Center church. And, I swear the sun came out just when our eyes met. We walked to his place on 5th street.

We undressed to our underwear, and I sat in his lap facing him on his piano bench. Although I couldn't do a Middle English accent, I leaned forward and whispered the good parts of Chaucer's "Miller's Tale" into his left ear while he played an interesting, piano rendition of Procol Harum's "A Whiter Shade of Pale," my favorite song from a movie soundtrack.

I don't know why I cried. I guess I was moved.

Then, he kissed my tears.

And, our time was up.

Thank you, F. It was a moment.

Our Cock Fight (6/45)

I know I usually only reward folks who comply.  And, I asked for nothing rhyming, however he wrote the dirtiest, funniest limerick about my pink hair I have ever read!

Also, he suggested the most unusual sexual act I've ever encountered.

He wanted to cock fight me.

He had to play early this morning, because he worked two jobs and had to be at the first one at around 8.

I woke up this morning smiling, because he seemed like such a character.

So, after a quick meet up at Bodo's Bagels on Preston, we went to his apartment over in Eagles' Landing. He had one of those nice, little two bedroom ones and had not been assigned a new roommate yet.

I helped him duct tape aluminum foil on his living room's patio glass windows.

He helped me into a strap on with about a nine inch brown penis attached.

He then gave me a red, glow in the dark condom, and hardened himself and put on a green one.

He then turned off all lights.

And, he said, “The force is mighty with you.”

Then, he started making light saber noises and started hitting my strap on with his cock.

I started laughing uncontrollably, and he did too.

Eventually, I started hitting him back and making my own light saber noises.

We played for about fifteen minutes, then he came.

I found the whole thing silly, hilarious, quirky, and good exercise.

Thank you, R for being you.

A Sunday Brunch (4/45)

I was uncomfortable and torn.

On one hand, I had to bite back a bit of my poverty snobbishness, when I first saw you wanted to have an encounter at a brunch.

On the other hand as I told you, every time I passed that Downtown Mall restaurant, I was always tempted to steal one of their perfect, cobalt colored, water glasses and longed to feel the linen textures of their very white table cloths.

But, a project is a project, so I agreed and went.

When I saw how handsome you were in your official UVA blue suit jacket, khakis, and orange and blue bow tie, I was curious what I had got myself into.

Also, I felt under dressed, because I had worn the flip flops per your request instead of something strappy and more formal.

I sat down and discovered you had already ordered for me.  This felt chivalrous and rude at the same time, since you knew nothing about any of my possible food sensitivities or allergies.

Then, I heard a bell.  I thought it meant you had to leave.  Instead, you told me to take off my shoe and put my foot in between your thighs.  I knew the table cloth that turned out to be very soft was long enough to hide any misbehavior, and I felt subversive doing something like this in such a posh place.

So, I complied.

You answered your page, unzipped and took out your cock, pressed my sole to it, and used unknown words like borborygums, hypoxemia, and purura into your cell phone.

I felt your warm drops of pre-cum when you said, "Ecchymosis."

I felt your climax's sticky globs spurt as you rubbed them into my foot when you said, "Analgesia."

You asked the server if I may have the water glass.  He said yes though I think he charged you for it.

You rose, presented me the victory cup as you put it, kissed me on the cheek, and began your walk back to the hospital.

It was amazing, interesting, weird, educational, and erotic.

And, the fifteen dollar crab cake was good too.

Thank you, A.

Taboo Play at the Park: A Photo Series (2/45)

I flutter from man to man. Seeing them all as temporary, random events.
Sometimes, I fall on short dressed knees, on park benches at their feet, or on sparse grassed ground.

So, unlike a tree.  They promise to be there...
Till they are not.

But, they change their names to log cabins, picket fences, paper.
These things bare down the hands of man.

What a long path to find the hands of man.

Among the trees, I find him.

I gently caress his back tickled by his bristles.

I want to sit at his bare feet with my back against his tree and my mouth waiting.

But, today is just about looking.

His fruit of the loom weaves sweet skinned, forbidden.

I want to rub his belly for luck.
I want him to rub me.

I want to play his viola all the way to his...

A new sweet friend.

Shy and wonderful.

Thank you D for such a fun time at the park today.  I appreciate you letting me take your photos. :)

Last Evening (1/45)

(If you would like to participate in my ongoing documentation of my Charlottesville, Virginia craigslist casual encounters, let me know. Serious inquiries from Cvillians only.)

Last evening, we thought we were going to catch the end of the reggae show at the Sprint Pavilion.

Instead, you helped me, an ambassador, and a police officer help a fallen, elderly, drunk man rise from the Downtown Mall bricks into a chair.

After that drama, we decided to have a bite at The Nook. You told me, you liked how I looked out for people and that I deserved something very special. You fed me a cheese, crinkle fry and winked at me.

We went to my place.

And, you told me to change into a nightie. Intrigued, I did as you wished. I came back, and you were gone! Luckily, you had just gone to your car for my "something special". You told me to lie down on my bed. Again curious, I did as you wished.

You opened the bag and produced a Snapple Half & Half and my favorite peanut butter cookies from Campus Cookies.

I had to giggle. I am totally into men who are into the details.

You tucked me in.

Then, you pulled out a leather notebook and sat on the edge of my bed reading me your original erotica about your larger woman turn on. You even shared one that you had just written about me and you and "biting me to the pit gorging on summer."

Then, you closed your book and kissed me on the forehead and left.

I've been such a wreck since.

Thank you!

Interested in living an adult romantic comedy? (May 4, 2016)

(A lot of men complained they only got responses from scams, sex workers, and sex page web administrators.  So, I posted an ad that I would respond to looking for results.)

Greetings and Salutations!

Thank you for taking a look at my ad amongst looking for free curbside give aways and trying to find your lost poodle on craigslist. :)

Ideally, I seek a Bull Durham Annie, smart and sexually driven as hell.  If you are too young to remember that movie, you are probably a bit too young for me. :)

So, I am an average looking, single white guy in my mid-30s with a satisfying work and home life.

What brings me to craigslist?

I think meeting interested women in bars is not the best thing if I really concern myself with full consent.  I, mean, how can your yes mean yes if it's alcohol or peer pressure powered?

I hope that since you are a lady looking here, you might be a little more sexually daring then someone who attends the normal, meat/meet markets on the Downtown Mall.

I want a woman who is cerebral, funny, creative, and naughty.  Complex women intrigue instead of intimidate or confound me. :)

I am looking for a more casual situation, because I had to break my engagement a few months ago due to her mendacity following a sexual indiscretion.  I am ok with open relationships but cheating in a monogamous situation is not the same and lying about it afterwards just... hurt me.

You are not going to be the rebound girl, you are going to be the healing woman... sexual and sensual healing. :)  And, if you actually help me heal my soul along the way, I would be open to more. :)

I would never intentionally disrespect you or your boundaries.

Sexually, I guess I am vanilla but not boring. No swinging or props.  Just you and me.

My ideal encounter would be fucking you till exhaustion in the back of a limo going up Carter Mountain and then sharing the view and apple cider doughnuts in each others' arms under the stars.

In your response, tell me what specifically brings you to casual encounters and more importantly why you chose to answer my ad.

I wish you the best and hope you soon realize how much you walk in beauty like the night. All of you. You make the world go round and some of you are so much, you make time stop.

Chose to not post a picture.
Body Athletic
Height 6'2
Status single
Age 35

I received two messages that were clearly spam.  And, I received a third that I assumed from his vocabulary and interests was a man pretending to be a woman with mentions of his "nice rack" and interest in "fishing tournaments."