I have never before or since heard of this Justin Banks, but he was included in a Christmas porn bundle I got from a friend. Obviously a friend who knows me well. He had a short career hampered by an attempt to haggle over his pop shot price. Lady, you only do that after you're famous! Give em the first crack rocks for free!
Anyhow I can't say too much about the guy other than he's hot and has a strong resemblance to a friend of mine--something I've noted in my porn star tastes over the years. Many of the porn people I develop crushes on/end up stalking look like someone from my past--A friend sometimes, but usually someone random who I thought was hot.
Going back through This American Peverts Life, the random guys that I still think about in the shower (or to be real, when I'm trying to come during a boring sexual encounter) are a collection of men who have no idea the significance they play in my day to day sex life. In fact, two of them would not even remember me.
The first was a camp counselor I had when I was 10. Scott was a hairy, well muscled guy with tussled 80's hair who was probably captain of the football team at some point based on his genetic stock. I remember he had that ambling walk that guys with really thick legs have to adopt and that he held his arms out at bit on an angle because his back was so wide. Don't expect too much from this story--he didn't touch me or anything (much to my chagrin). I didn't even know I was gay then, but Scott was kind to me, and he was so undeniably studly that 26 years later thinking of him shirtless by the lake still helps me pop one out.
The second is a guy I had one class with in college. I don't remember his name. I do remember that he played football and looked it. I sat behind him spent far too much time looking at the muscles of his back strained through the fabric of his T-shirt in areas that I didnt even know housed muscles. He always wore a baseball hat, backwards. And usually a Cornell athletic shirt of some kind. From the collar of that shirt spilled a forest of brown chest hair. He rarely shaved. The one and only time I spoke to him he bummed a cigarette off me outside class and starting chatting with me. Turned out he was into reptiles, which believe it or not was a topic I knew a lot about (long story, not relevant). He was a smart guy on top of it all. That was it. I don't think I ever saw him again after that class. but 14 years later I still think of him with the football team in the Cornell showers. If only I knew his name I would so Facebook stalk him.
The third random guy who visits my dreams is not quite as random as the others--he was one of my best friends in college. He looked like Gage Wilson and was a bona fide frat boy. We spent a lot of time drunk together and if you haven't experienced it first hand let me tell you: frat boys are often shirtless. I don't like preying on straight boys, so I never tried anything with him, but I'm not made of stone. I've jerked off thinking about him thousands of times, and his room in the frat house is the usual back drop in my fantasies even when I think about other guys.
I often wonder if I'm fantasy fodder for some random guy I don't remember--I mean there are a lot of weirdos out there so odds are someone's fixated on me right? Is that too much to ask?
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