The Austin City Limits Music Festival. What a weekend. I’d come to Austin to attend all three days of my first ACL. The weekend turned out to be life changing. In fact, I’d never been to a concert where I got a bit teary eyed. Several times, actually. As I stood there with hundreds of thousands of people living their best life, there was a sense of unity.

A collective euphoria fueled by music, drugs, and alcohol, clouded in a musky mist of body odor. In the delightful realm of a thousand port-a -potties, it’s all part of the experience. You wouldn’t have it any other way. At the end of each day of ACL, physically you were drained, but your soul was full, and you craved more.

As the headliners wrapped that night, the hordes of people poured out of Zilker Park. Suddenly you realized, it wasn’t even 11pm yet. The night was still young, and Austin wasn’t done with you yet.

Now I knew before I arrived that weekend that there were two bands and two songs that I had to see live if Pearl Jam sang Black and Kings of Leon sang You Somebody. My life would be complete. You see, I have an affinity for songs written by male songwriters, basking in self- loathing and their difficulties with maintaining romantic relationships.

And why? Go listen to the lyrics. Those songs were essentially written about my life. Every man can identify with those lyrics. Men’s longing for the love of a woman we can’t have, is the deepest pain we could possibly suffer. The thing you want most is often the hardest to come by. In fact, if you want to understand a man’s actions.

Look for his deepest heartbreak. It altered his life. As young men, we set out on a journey to make our mark on the world, accomplish our goals, and chase our dreams. Deep down inside, we want nothing more in life but to be somebody. But what none of us will admit at that age is that we want to fall in love, just as bad as women do.

Probably even more so. But most young men’s understanding of love has barely even begun to develop. And our fear of the consequences of sharing the reins to our emotions with someone else Results in broken relationships and broken hearts. And so that old adage is painfully true. And it says, when a man can’t find meaning in life, he often turns to seeking pleasure.

The stories I’m going to share about my life are 100 percent true. Unbelievable, but true at times, shocking, but packed full of wisdom about the male psyche and his thirst for love and sexual connection. There will be some graphic details of sex and some adult language. So if that kind of thing bothers you, or you get turned on too easily.

You might want to stop listening now. I dedicate this podcast to the countless female and male friends that consistently came seeking advice on life and love. You inspired me to share what the fuck is actually going on in a man’s head as he tries to do the right thing in the world and figure out who he is.

I lost count of the number of times that a female friend would reach out in desperation to ask, do men ever grow up? This was always code for her husband or boyfriend was acting flaky after being perfectly fine for weeks at a time and then falling off the face of the earth. They wanted some advice on whether or not it was worth hanging on for dear life with him or cutting her losses and moving on.

In most cases, after digging into the details about the guy and looking at the relationship through his eyes and where he was on his evolution journey. The recommendation was usually the same, let him go, when she’d ask, really? I’d proceed with sharing my deep insights of the things that could possibly be raging inside him.

A world she wasn’t aware of and couldn’t possibly understand without a male guide. A guide like me, who in my lifetime had been both the best boyfriend on the planet at times. Honest, faithful, and attentive, but it started off as a young man, being a liar and a cheater, a self -centered asshole. You see, I was the most qualified guy around to explain that if a bad boyfriend or a bad husband was capable of pulling a 180 in life, and what it was going to take for him to do so.

Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit, right? I felt this was my destiny for a good part of my life. But contrary to what you’ve read or heard, a man’s redemption is possible, but the timetable is always open ended. Cause it takes work, and a little luck, and who wants to sit around waiting for that?

Ain’t nobody got time for that. My own life plan had always seemed straight forward, from a very early age, just a good guy, from a good family, on a mission to find his dream girl, fall in love, and let the rest fall into a comfortable second place in my life. Instead, by my early thirties, I was nowhere closer to that dream, not from lack of trying.

And that’s what brought me to Austin that weekend, which eventually led to me falling in love with a city, a lifestyle, that accidentally became a secret life. And some would consider part rock star, part porn star, all while being a full-time father and maintaining a corporate 500 company. Okay, back to Austin.

It’s Monday morning after ACL. Fuck. How am I supposed to return to normal life after that? Fuck. As I ride down the elevator at the W Hotel, I feel like I’m gonna puke. I’m not even gonna bother checking out. Headed straight to my car. Get me the fuck out of here. I see a few ladies exiting the hotel doing the walk of shame.

Holding their heels. Dress on backwards. And asking the valet how to get back to their hotel. Who everybody else looks like shit to. So that makes me feel a little less like a degenerate. The lobby is littered with people looking worse than me. Thank God they smell. Oh wait, is that me? Okay, it’s me that smells like tequila in Bad Decisions, but honestly, I have no fucking regrets.

Going out in this city was kind of like being dropped off in a forest, where instead of trees, wild animals, and spring water, you were surrounded by bars, wild people, and endless alcohol that seemed to flow endlessly into your veins, some type of osmosis. It was October of 2009, and this city’s red hot, molten core had started to seep from its underground, just like a volcano.

The building pressure was throwing some major signs. The city was about to explode. Austin was about to show the world and other hotspots in Cali, New York, Florida, that they could keep their glitz and glamour. Austin had its own magic and was about to become the new Mecca for adult fun. And not just for a vacation, but as a place to move, to really start living life.

Places like New York City, Vegas, Miami, everyone already knew what those cities were about and what they had to offer. Including the high prices, and the extreme wealth that makes even the upper class feel like beggars. Pretentious showoffs in every corner. Everyone’s trying to outfloss each other. And the pressure of trying to climb several levels of social classes before you could feel like you finally made it in life.

Then seemingly out of nowhere, this once small, but high energy, slightly liberal leaning, progressive college town, smack dab in the middle of conservative Texas, had quietly been creating an alternative culture. that had all the excitement of the other places, but with a Texas twist. Austin had just been doing its thing.

Staying weird. Staying young and hip. Staying in its lane. The poster child for just be yourself. The city had its own rules. An unwritten, but widely accepted mantra. Spend your day doing shit you like to do, and the rest can wait. No wonder so many creative types and free spirits wanted to be here. That’s what gave Austin such a cool vibe.

There was no need here for a facade. No need to begin introductions with who you think you are or what you do for a living. That information was useless. Just throw your bags in your room, walk into the closest bar, and let the adventure begin. You can expedite your journey by introducing yourself to the bartender and other random people.

And tell them that you’re new here. Throw that 20 tip on the 5 drink. Buy rounds for strangers. Nobody gives a fuck who you are or what you do here. They just want to know how long and how hard you can go tonight, and if you’re down for round two tomorrow. You’ll probably end up drinking mimosas with your new friends at brunch the next day.

This was Austin’s golden era. You want to know the difference between leaving Austin and leaving Las Vegas? You’ll leave Austin having twice the fun, and you’re definitely going to meet an entirely new set of people that you’ll actually become friends with. There is no in crowd here. Whatever crowd you’re in, that’s the in crowd.

And one of the most confusing things to me that never used to happen to me back home Cause every time I visited Austin, I’d wake up with half my clothes on, and pizza crust all over the floor, and in a panicked scramble trying to find my wallet, and when I finally found it, I’d see that somehow, I’d only spent 50 bucks.

How is that even possible? Try that in Vegas. Half of that weekend was a blur, but as I drove back from Austin with a shit eating grin on my face, I’m having constant flashbacks, lasers, disco balls, shot glasses, and beautiful women. And I mean everywhere. Damn, this city is fucking sexy. And the global excitement surrounding Austin, and the mad rush to get here, had just begun to swell like an engorged body part, waiting to bust out of its crotch.

In fact, people couldn’t get here fast enough, selling their belongings, ending relationships, changing careers. Heck, I met a guy that gave up his cushy job in Cali just to drive a pedicab with Christmas lights on it. Now the mainstream media was publishing the obvious reasons that Austin was becoming a tech hub, at a decent cost of living at the time.

And it was filled with vibrant, creative people, teeming with positive energy, all that surface level shit. Now don’t get me wrong, those things were all true, but they were just the tip of the iceberg. Anyone looking to surround themselves with other unique, intelligent, adventurous souls somehow felt compelled to get here by any means necessary.

Austin had its own gravitational pull, and it had been pulling me closer and closer, for years. Now Austin had always had appeal, but that year there was a seismic shift of epic proportions. The culmination of variables that were mixed together created a frenzy about this city. The Austin city limits was growing and there was a rapid adoption of social media.

The South by Southwest film and tech festival was bringing famous people from all over the world. We would eventually visit a barbecue truck and post a picture to the gram. That was causing some people to move here without ever visiting. Not even once. Electronic music had made the giant leap out of basements of the teen rave scene and landed in every venue in Austin’s endless streets of bars and restaurants.

But probably most importantly, the people landing here were some of the most outgoing and adventurous people from all over the country. As a native Texan, I had been coming to Austin regularly and had always dreamed of moving here. It just always felt like an escape for me. An escape from the realities of being on the grind in other major Texas cities.

But I had caught the bug, just like a lot of people. Austin fever. It was becoming a major epidemic. By the following year, over 30, 000 people a month were moving here. I called it the Texas Gold Rush. Only people weren’t coming here to prospect for gold. What were they coming here for? Okay, I know some of you came for the sexually explicit stories of my experiences.

And trust me, you’ll get your fill. If you know what I mean. Just bear with me. I promise you that my stories in my Sexploration Journey, either as a participant, a voyeur, or a video guy, are best told through the lens of a parallel storyline. Several storylines, actually. My journey to Evolve was a man, a man who wanted nothing more but to meet someone, someone that set his soul on fire.

Then right off into the sunset, I would have traded the fast lane for a sandy road leading to a sunset beach. A permanent, lifelong, monogamous relationship was the thing I wanted most in life, ever since I was a little boy. But as the saying goes, you gotta play the cards you’re dealt. Okay, so where was I?

Oh yeah, driving back from Austin. So I was now more convinced than ever that unless I lived in Austin, I was just wasting my life. But it just didn’t seem possible. What was I going to do? Walk away from my six-figure job with my corner office? I had spent over a decade busting my ass for that. I just wasn’t a risk taker.

But the seeds had been planted, and they were starting to sprout. Here’s where it gets juicy. The stars had begun to align earlier that year for me. To make a major life change. And I was on a collision course with Austin. F k off. My 35 sucks. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah. You see, my very close male friends for the past 15 years, they had all kind of slowed down.

Married with kids. Our nights out consisted of a few beers. Then home by 10. Guys in their 30s retelling crazy stories from their 20s. Happy Hour was invented for that sole purpose. I remember thinking to myself, I’m tired of talking about good times from the past. I’m still in my prime. I just can’t pack it in and coast into retirement.

That’s still 40 years away. These guys have been a great crew. We’ve almost died together almost 8 times by my count. I love these guys, and I’ll always be there for them. I needed more action. I needed a social makeover. I knew if I was going to reset my social life, the only possible choice I had was to join a new gangbang.

Oops, did I say gangbang? Those will come later. But for now, I just so happen to know another group of guys. Seems like a long shot. They were in their 20s, and I had met them playing sand volleyball way back when they were just teens. But they were all grown now. These guys were your typical college boys.

You know, they’re more your stud types. They worked out, they stayed fit, they didn’t ever really get shit faced. They were more into girls and making money. They were like the little brothers I never had, and they were fun as fuck to hang out with. Went to malls to shop and eat. I hit some nightclubs. What struck me most was, These guys had no problems approaching women and getting numbers.

I sometimes found myself standing there, like a deer in headlights, as they started up conversations with large groups of attractive women. These guys had different DNA than I had. I was growing particularly close with one of the guys. Let’s call him John. It’s almost embarrassing to admit, but I was starting to feel like I was 21 all over again.

And the summer was starting to feel a bit more exciting. And then fall was approaching. And John was like, Hey old man, do you want to come to Austin for Halloween with my brother and his friends? I paused for a second, then I blurted out, Sure, I’ll go. Then John said, only we basically go looking like male strippers.

So you have to be shirtless, or you’ll just look stupid. The panic started to set in. What the fuck? I’m not running around Austin with no shirt on. But I knew I could always back out the next day via text. He was like, great. Let’s start looking for sexy male costumes right now. So there I was. For the first time in my life.

Googling, sexy male fireman. He knew I was going to back out. He made me order that costume right then and there. Dammit, John. After a few more days, the more I thought about it, the more I told myself, we only live once. But don’t get me wrong, I was nervous. I felt a bit strange as a guy in my 30s to be walking around a college town with no fucking shirt on.

We just didn’t do this in my regular group. They would laugh their asses off if they knew I was going to Austin with the kids and no fucking shirt on. I almost backed out the last second because it felt like this is maybe how midlife crisis begins. One desperate attempt to hold on to my youth at a time.

But hey, John and his brothers were next level studs. They were fuckin ripped, with abs, can, with bright white teeth. They had major game. Girls literally chased them in bars. I thought, this’ll be interesting. I get to watch the wild animals, in action, hunting as a pack. Love thirsty. One of the reservations I had about going with them was that I wasn’t sure I could handle another night with them.

See, we had all gone out about a month before. I had joined them for a night out in San Marcos. And yes, some of them are still attending Texas State. They lived in a four-bedroom student apartment, and I had planned on staying on the couch after hitting the square that night. If you aren’t familiar, go Google it.

If you grew up in Texas and you haven’t been thrown out of a bar at the square, are you really Texan? Let me just cut right to it. At 2 a. m., we’re back at their crib, and not surprisingly, all of them have a smoking hot college chick with them. I could not have felt more out of place. And it was showing.

These guys pull girls like regular guys breathe air, and it was nothing to them. It felt like an episode of Jersey Shore, after they come home from the club. Only I was the camera guy that needed to hurry up and leave so they could get their fucking on. Everyone finally retired to their room, except my buddy John.

He was staying out in the living room with me, but he had a half-naked girl in his lap. So I took the blow-up bed and moved it to the other side of the room, between the back of the couch and the kitchen. Trying to give them as much privacy as possible. Then I turned out the lights, and then it started.

Through the walls came this terrifying screaming and moaning. What the fuck is that? It was so loud. But then I quickly realized, These are sex sounds. They’re fucking all over this place. It was like they were having a competition of which room could scream the loudest. The girls sex moans were so loud.

It was like they’re laying next to me in the fridge, moaning in my ear, letting me know just how good they were getting pounded. I laid there trying to ignore it. But it was impossible. I was trapped in a college porn movie titled Four Coeds and Their Cuckold Friend. I couldn’t help it. My dick got rock hard.

I could feel its pulse moving my entire body. All I could do was just lay there. Like one giant hard dick. This must be what hell feels like. There is nothing worse than being horny and drunk. And being surrounded by hot young couples having sex. If you could have seen my face, just imagine the emoji with big eyes.

Yeah, that was me. I was starting to panic. I’m not sure how much more of this I can handle. I was horny as hell, and they were just banging away. I thought to myself, please lord make this stop. I heard orgasm after orgasm, both guys and girls. I couldn’t keep up. Am I being punked? Which felt like three hours.

Ended in about 30 minutes. Guess they all got tired finally. Great. Glad everyone had a great time. But I’m still rock hard. And I need to bust a nut, or I’m not gonna be able to sleep. It’s gonna be impossible to sleep with this much blood in my cock. So I thought, I’ll just creep to the bathroom and rub one out.

But as I started to move, I heard a noise. Wait, that’s John and his girl. I forgot they were on the couch with all the other commotion in the place. They were still going at it. Crap. So I laid back down quietly. I could hear all the good stuff. Gently sliding in, then slowly back out. He was giving her the classic long stroke, and he was taking his time.

I’ll never forget the sound of that faint but cute little whimper she let out each time he thrusted inside of her. It was one of the hottest things I had ever witnessed. I had watched people have sex before, and I’ll get to those stories later, but this was different. Two sexy hot 21-year-olds that look like Abercrombie models.

And to top it off, they were doing it in a way that had always gotten me super turned on. They weren’t just fucking like the rest of the couples in the place. They were passionately sharing their bodies with each other. Making out intensely, while slowly grinding for a bit, then speeding up with raw animalistic aggression.

My young protege was fucking with alternating tempo. My man, I kept thinking, come on, John, tag me in or something. I’m dying over here. Okay, they aren’t stopping, and I can’t take it anymore, but I didn’t want to interrupt them. It was pitch black in there, but I managed to slowly crawl closer to the back of the couch and pull my shorts down.

I’m gonna have to take matters into my own hands, literally, because I laid there stealthily stroking my cock. I could tell John was about to bust, and so was I. Kind of a shame to say it, but we came at the same time. Maybe this is what they mean by keeping Austin weird. I let out a loud gasp, and I heard her whisper, Wait, who was that?

I hurriedly rolled over about eight times until I was back on my blowout bed. I just laid there, with cum all over my hands. Gonna have to let that dry there. Damn, that felt good. My balls had been blue for what seemed like an eternity. And as I passed out, I thought to myself, Maybe I should start bringing a date when I come see these guys.

I don’t think I can take this again. But here we are, a month later, and I’m about to hit up Halloween in Austin with the Fuckboy crew. Now I’m not trying to be overly dramatic when I say this, but that Halloween night was one of a handful that changed the trajectory of my life forever. Something happened that had never happened to me in my life, not even close.

You see, it’s about midnight, we’re having a blast, the guys are getting numbers left and right, and I’m drinking more than usual, because I can feel another episode if the college boys go to pound town. Happening later that night. We were strolling down 6th Street, right in front of Chugging Monkey. The street is littered with thousands of crazy people in costumes.

We were headed to another bar, and suddenly I feel a tap on the shoulder, and I turn around, and there she was. The hottest woman that has ever approached me in public, and she said, hey sexy. She just stood there and stared at me intently with her hazel eyes, her fire red hair, a skimpy costume, perfect deep breasts, rock hard abs, and tats all over her perfectly chiseled body.

She was the sex goddess. Let’s call her Caitlyn. Wait, why did she pick me? Doesn’t she see this gang of college porn stars next to me? Who, by the way, all of them had pumped their muscles before we came out that night and took turns rubbing baby oil on each other. As they explained, this was to ensure that maximum panties were being dropped that night.

As I stood there frozen, all I could think of was, act fucking cool, bro. I uttered a few words, but her friends were pulling her away, so we quickly exchanged numbers, and she ran off. I turned back to the guys. And it felt like a scene from that movie Rudy, you know, the one based on that true story about that little runt of a guy who was a Notre Dame football water boy, whose biggest dream in the world was to actually play one day.

And when he did, all the jocks were rubbing his head and patting him on the back to congratulate him. Yep. That’s what they were doing to me as I tried to blow it off like it wasn’t a big deal. These guys acted like it was the first time a girl talked to me, give me a break. I wasn’t some loser. I mean, I had always averaged about 10 sexual partners a year from the time I was 18.

I was very sexually active, but I had a different game than these guys. They had striking good looks, confidence, and experience. They were chick magnets. I was just in a different league, I guess the minors. I was considered handsome and used more strategic roundabout ways. Okay, I had to use mostly nice guy shit to try to get a girl to hook up with me.

I didn’t have their on-demand abilities, but this didn’t mean I wasn’t batting a pretty damn good percentage in my hunting grounds. I had always had a knack for relating to women and having a ton of hot female friends, but they would ride me to death that I hardly fucked any of them. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to, it’s because I couldn’t.

You see, I had learned in high school how to quickly insert myself into any woman’s friend zone by disarming them of the belief that I was a threat in any way. I was a master of self-emasculation, but I wouldn’t even realize what that term was until years later. I spent the rest of the night riding on cloud nine.

For the first time in my life, I felt hot. I had embodied a sexually charged persona that had compelled a beautiful woman to approach me. And there was no doubt that the confidence of these male sex freaks had rubbed off me that night. Their confidence and bravado was fucking contagious.

Now you’ll find millions of books and YouTube videos from experts, philosophers, and dating coaches telling you that it’s been proven time and time again for centuries that if you change the way you think, Change the way your inner voice frames your life and who you are. Then you can actually change how people view you and create a life that matches any desire you have.

But until you fully commit and see some results, you think it’s all bullshit. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you this. I’m a slightly above average looking guy. With an above average intelligence and ADHD, and an over analytical mind. It serves me well in the corporate world, but not so much in the dating scene.

You see, my primary dating channel had always been meeting someone organically. Like at work or through a mutual friend, ask her if she wants to hang out, platonically of course, then be the nicest guy in the world, flash some dimples on my innocent boyish face, and hope for the best. I was essentially always trying to get any girl that showed me any attention to fall in love with me.

When it worked, it confirmed for me that I had a decent set of skills with women, so I was content. But after that night, I kept asking myself, how do I move the needle a little closer to the sex appeal that these guys had, without changing my nice guy personality? How do I make that night my new normal?

It’s normal for these guys, why can’t it be normal for me? Is it just about looks with hot girls? Or can I do some research, some analysis on what I’ve been doing, and doing wrong, and try to transform myself, even in some small degree, into a more confident guy? And I can’t change my face, I could be in better shape to start.

But what else can I do? What are the things I do that reek average and boring? I was on a mission to figure this out, but one thing I knew for sure. I knew I needed to figure out when and where I threw my masculinity out the window and go back and get that shit. Okay, okay, yes. I know I got off track again.

I told you I have ADHD. So what happened with Caitlyn? Well, her and I were just getting started. Turns out she looked like a sex goddess on the street because she truly was a freak in the sheets. We would eventually have some of the best sex of my life up until that point. Have you ever put your cock inside a girl and she can squeeze it so hard that you can’t pull it out?

She did those Kegel exercises with this little squishy pink toy every night after the gym. I’m not kidding. Once you slid inside her, she could grab your cock like a fist. She could literally force you to stay inside her until she was done with you. Gosh, what an animal. Okay, I’m getting turned on thinking about her.

Well, thanks for listening. I have over 100 episodes in the works, so I’d love for you to stick around. Also, the highly sexually explicit episodes will be titled Behind the Scenes and will be behind a paywall. Those stories are strictly for adults. And be sure to check out my links and ways to connect. If you’re a podcaster or social media creator, or dabble in a sex positive lifestyle, I’d Including anything from super kinky stuff to E& M.

Then be on the lookout for my Patreon page. It’s coming soon. I love to meet like-minded people.

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