MY LEGMEAT...AND WELCOME TO IT!!!

     Since I have been at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in Manhattan, many of my friends had noticed my well-proportioned legs...my thick, muscular thighs...my nicely curvacious calves...and my tempting kneebacks. And if it were not for my late gym teacher, Mr. Michaels, they would never have learned the many ways that they...and I...could achieve sexual and sensual gratification through them.

     Many times in the past 25 years had my friends been invited to stroke, lick, kiss and bite the tender meat of my legs. Of course, they were not able to taste any meat under the skin of my attractive kneebacks...frankly because there is only nerves, blood vessels and fat beneath the skin. The true enjoyment comes from actually digging their teeth into the visceral flesh of my thighs and calves, where there are mounds of delicious red meat.

     When I was 15, I enjoyed wearing a pair of short shorts and below-the-calf socks and having myself tied face down upon my bed or a dining room table with my feet tied at the ankles and my hands tied behind my back...and looking at the ceiling and uttering a long "Ahhhhhhhhh" as my friends not only bit deeply into my thighs and calves but as they kissed and licked my kneebacks as well. To experience this, one must be a leg fetishist of the highest degree...and I am definitely one!

     Now that I am at the threshhold of middle age...having turned 40 on May 8, 2011...I can attest this to you. My legs are still as comely and delicious-looking as they were when they were the legs of a teenager and young adult. My thighs and calves are all the more meatier and my kneebacks still invite stroking, licking and kissing as they had 25 years ago. And as a mature male model, my legs attract the attention of both males and females as I wear shorts and parade up and down the runways of the major fashion capitals of the world. As I pass those who watch me walk up and down the runway, I can tell that some of the men watching me fervently wish that they could taste my well-proportioned legs. And I can't blame them. Had I been in the audience, watching me pass by, I would wish the same thing.

     At home in Malibu, my three sons...eight-year-old Ilya, six-year-old Pooka and three-year-old Kaya...all love to gather round me as I lay face down on my bed in my shorts and lick my tanned deliciosities. Ilya had already known how the back of my legs looked when they were on fire. Pooka had already taken the pleasure of not only biting my thighs and calves...but jabbing sharp pins into my kneebacks and licking away whatever blood oozed out of the orifices where the pins exited as well. Kaya has yet to learn the full gratification of how it feels to taste my meats. My daughters, however, are not permitted to enter the sanctity of our manly fun. Only boys and men are allowed to have the full pleasure of tasting my thighs and calves and licking my kneebacks.

     Let me tell you this...at 40, I still enjoy dressing in a pair of shorts and walking down the street, inviting those who would love to to clamp their pearly whites on my thighs and calves and slosh their tongues and pucker their lips upon my kneebacks. It is a pleasure which I utterly enjoy to the fullest. Having the ability to twist my body around so that I can stick my head between my own legs, I had been able to even bite my thighs and calves and lick my own kneebacks as well as any other boy or man. And the look on my face as I had done it was one of pure bliss. To enjoy the taste of my own meats and licking my kneebacks is one feeling I would always cherish until the day I die...hopefully face down in a pair of shorts with a knife buried to the hilt between my shoulders or hanging at the end of a rope with only the meat of my legs exposed and my kneebacks facing my all-male audience...and remaining thus to rot at the mercy of the elements. One day...but not today.

     I have sent out notices to my best friends in the world. Not only other actors, but other male models who I know love looking at my legs...especially my kneebacks as I walk down the runways of the world wearing shorts, swimwear, and, yes, even short suits. This night, I am going to lay face down on my seven-foot long diningroom table, my feet tied together and my hands securely tied behind my back...dressed in a white short suit, white knee socks and white dress shoes. I will have a white pillow case pulled over my head so that only my knees will be exposed, with my kneebacks facing the ceiling. I will welcome my friends...and any friends which they decide to bring with them...to kiss, lick and, perhaps, pin my tanned kneebacks.

     I will give out my trademarked "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh" as I feel their lips and tongues upon my kneebacks.

     I will give out an even louder and prolonged "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh" as I feel them stab each sliver of silver into the skin of my kneebacks.

     I will give out the loudest and most prolonged "Ahhhhhhhhhhh" as they push each pin deeper and deeper into my kneebacks, pushing them through nerves, blood vessels and fat.

     But the most enjoyable feeling will be when they extract each pin and lick away any blood that should ooze out onto my kneebacks.

     I will also enjoy it as they film the entire night's proceedings for the future viewing pleasure of not only me...but my sons as well as they grow to comely, handsome manhood, hopefully taking full pleasure of their own kneebacks and having their friends take pleasure with their thighs and calves as mine have.

     This is the complete story of my legmeat and the pleasure which others...and myself...derive from them.