Jason Armstrong Releases His New Book Getting Off: The Unlikely Chronicles of a Solosexual on PrEP

Three years ago Jason Armstrong (WildHorse100) published his book Solosexual: Portrait Of A Masturbator.

We couldn’t be more excited to announce his new book Getting Off: The Unlikely Chronicles of a Solosexual on PrEP.

To celebrate the release of Getting Off, enjoy these two excerpts exclusively for The Bator Blog:

One

Truly, a solosexual is who I am at heart— a man for whom masturbation is the key to sexual bliss. It is how I am most sexually grounded. But when I started exploring, I lost sleep wondering if those who read and related to my first book would feel betrayed by my experimentations in the world of man-on-man partnered, penetrative sex. I thought of the men who play with men but claim to be straight.

There was a time when I would have called bullshit. I thought of a man I knew on BateWorld.com who fiercely defended his claim to be a bator (masturbator) at heart, yet loved to suck cock. He said that he was a bator at his deepest core, but that sucking a penis puts him in touch with Lord Penis, his deity. I was learning that sexual likes and dislikes, regardless of how you define your orientation, can be varied, as on a spectrum, from person to person. But would people want to call bullshit on me? The thing is, at the heart of my yearning to experiment was this simple notion: Men beguile me.

They tempt me. They floor me. A stunning picture of a hot naked man can make my hand fly from my cock to my mouth as I stifle a gasp. Male beauty is shocking in its variety. And to see that object of admiration doing something sexual, perhaps something as divinely simple as the act of stroking his shaft as he appreciates his connection to Lord Penis, causes this observer to marvel.

I wanted to roll in that deep. But where are men going for sex? What porn are they watching? How are they communicating with each other? What, I wondered, is the state of the strip club in these times? I wondered about it all: Prostitution, bath houses, orgies, gloryholes. How, I wondered, was PrEP (Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis) changing the way gay men approach sex? I wanted to go back to my blog’s roots and hunt for sex. So I did just that and found that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

In comparison to the wild-west days of unabashed gay sex in the 70’s, we, I find, are creating the same culture again today. But the reason that writing about sexuality never gets old is because any answers you might get to your questions only beget more questions. As with love, sexuality is a deep, deep ocean that is near impossible to scrape the bottom of, though we trawl like mad, like men possessed.

Two

I visited on a Saturday afternoon and found the hallways nearly empty, the cabin doors open. The lighting wasn’t that dim, but upon stepping into the gay porn theatre, with its row upon row of theater seating, my eyes needed to adjust to the dark. When they did, they saw that the theater contained only about four to five men, none seated near each other. Nor did I see any sexual activity. No matter—I was going to bring the party.

I found a seat on the aisle, throwing my backpack in the seat to the left of me. I opened it up and rummaged for the bottle of whiskey and water I’d snuck in. I took a swig, put the bottle back in my bag, and did some manspreading. I spread my legs wide, took a deep breath, and felt my crotch. The simple fact of being in a dark theater showing porn, knowing there were a few men around me was enough to make me bulge in my jeans. I wore a loose-fitting, old, torn tank top, and a frayed ball cap on my head. I stole a glance at the other men around me. None appeared to make eye contact, but it was so dark that it was nearly impossible to be sure. 

Turning back to the porn on the screen, I decided to go for it. I made a big deal of undoing my belt buckle and hoped the others could hear the sound of my zipper. I hauled out my dick as if it weighed a ton, shifting in my seat to draw attention. My cock was at attention immediately. My fantasies had sprung to life and I started imagining that the men here were waiting for their wives to finish shopping at the mall across the street. Dick out, I reached for another swig of my drink, when to my right I sensed a man walking down to where I was sitting. I was not wrong.

A young, tall and slightly heavy guy sat down in the row in front of me, quickly getting into his seat before turning to catch my eye. I gave him my eye, as best I could in the dark. I even gave a tentative smile and glanced at my own hand moving up and down my cock’s shaft, illuminated by the light of the big screen. If I thought I was the bold one in that room, this dude would outrank me soon enough. It took him just a few minutes before he stood up, hard dick in his hand, leaned against the wall and proceeded to jack off.

I leaned back and deeper in my chair, slinging my left arm over the chair beside. I nodded at the dude and started jacking with purpose.

As bold as he was being, I sensed great nervousness emanating from this young man. Or was it simply excitement? His eyes darted from his cock, to me, to the porn screen, back to the room as a whole, back to me. I gave him an approving smile, which must have been affirmation enough to do more. With his cock in his hand, he walked out of the row he was in and stood in the aisle next to me, jacking his dick right next to my face. Ok, I thought, this is what you came for—but how to play my next move? I looked up at him ever so briefly, as if I barely registered him, and worked on my dick. He inched closer. I snuck a glance at his hand furiously working his meat. I saw precum glistening on my own cock head, and sensed the dude getting slowly closer to me. Was he going to want me to suck it? Did I want to? He wasn’t really my type and I was just getting off on us jacking publicly like this. Was this all I could give him?

I didn’t have to answer any of my own questions. Instead, I heard a quiet grunt come out of him and in my peripheral vision I saw the white stuff start flying, landing on my shoulder and neck. One, two, three, four volleys of cum shooting on me and the guy zipped up so fast, making a beeline for the door to get out. He moved so quickly that if he’d been a cartoon character, there would have been dust flying in his wake.

To continue reading, grab your copy of Getting Off: The Unlikely Chronicles of a Solosexual on PrEP by Jason Armstrong.

We hope you give it a read and encourage you to leave your reviews on Amazon or let us know your thoughts right here in the comments below.

Join Jason Armstrong (Wildhorse100) and other solosexuals on BateWorld.com