Honest stuff, not 'studio straight' guys or contrived crap. Service to these men is truly my calling. I'm respectful of every one I encounter and help all regardless of their participation or not. The website has over 140 guys now. All revenues go to help the men and creating new content through membership in the not-for-profit website.

The dreary, overcast damp afternoon matched the vibe on the street as we were distributing IGA grocery store giftcards to those who needed them in Vancouver’s downtown east side. There was this underlying sense of bleakness or sullenness that was pervasive in the atmosphere on this particular day. That same vibe held true as I was talking to this man, who said that he’s living a life of hopelessness despite so many positive achievements he’s recently made, including being sober for a month. Living in a decaying old SRO (single room occupancy) this guy is a microcosm of something much much larger: stuck in a cycle and system which itself can impede people from finding themselves and finding their path forward. He ideated going to a trade school rather than find some dead-end job and had found an electrician class back home in Calgary. I offered him a ticket home, no strings. It’s funny, he thought at first I was from some provincial social services outreach programme. It was only after he had a boarding pass for the next day that I pitched the guy. He took me up on my offer, he said, because he “hadn’t used anything but my hand for the last three months”.

The bleakness of the street was the defining vibe on what was a drizzly, dull afternoon on Vancouver’s downtown east side. This guy, living in a dump Single Room Occupancy had a feeling of hopelessness despite his own success of being sober for a month. He couldn’t see past the systemic cycle he was in. We got him a ticket home to Calgary, then pitched him later. As we were shooting the shit walking down the hallway to the hotel room he mentioned that he was a “minute man”, something I didn’t understand when he mentioned it. The dude was already half hard; his dick flopping out of his pants as he was opening them. I sniffed and licked around for a minute but became totally disciplined in this intense focus upon his dick. I started to blow him and after only a minute he declares “I’m gonna cum in your mouth”. And he did. A minute man indeed.

Canvassing the streets of Venice Beach we encountered this guy, a clear plastic Hefty bag slung over his shoulder, picking cans and bottles out of the trash bins. As I watched him reach down into the bin, I was taken by how hairy his armpits appeared. I asked him: "find anything good?". He looks up and mumbles almost incoherently something about "the only thing good I've found lately is a girl" that lives in the SRO (Single Room Occupancy- a glorified motel room) building that he’s residing in just off Santa Monica Blvd. I tried to engage him about his situation and wanting to help him but he was too unintelligible (and my hearing too shitty) to understand much of anything he was saying. I pitched him anyway. His response conveyed the first coherent words he uttered: “I didn't wake up this morning thinking I’d be getting my dick sucked… by a guy”. This was my cue to walk him back to the hotel.

This dude was collecting cans and bottles from the trash to eke out his existence in a Single Room Occupancy place off of Santa Monica Blvd. in Los Angeles. When we got to my hotel he left the hefty bag full of his catch at the door. He undid his pants and I commented on his shaved pubes and he mumbled: "that's the way the ladies like it". I came to learn that a lot of streets guys shave in order to take what they call a “bird bath” (a quick sink wash of their crotch). It never ceases to amaze me that even when on the abyss of homelessness a priority of most men nonetheless remains finding pussy. Good for him. He took a bit to get wood but once he got hard, he placed his backpack on the bed and laid on it, arching himself up. His downward angled dick was perfect fit to suck. It wasn't long before he began making these short, stabbing thrusts. Honestly, I just gave the dude my mouth. His dick did all the work. He blew a small, dense load which I swallowed and then thanked him for.

At the outset, this was nothing more than a chance encounter: seeing this man on the pier at Venice Beach/L.A. I found him leaning against the railing, arms resting upon the seawall, seemingly adrift in his own thoughts just gazing out at the Pacific Ocean. Standing nearby, I commented to him how the ocean seemed mesmerising just watching the ebb and flow of the waves and tide. What began as small talk evolved into this man laying bare his very soul to me, a stranger. He became visibly emotional as he related how his ex-wife had manipulated his own parents against him and was keeping him from seeing his kids. He needed someone to just listen, to give him voice so he could process what was going on in his life and find his own path. What was so unusual about this encounter was that there wasn't even a "pitch". What developed did so entirely organically. I felt a genuine emotion for this man in a manner and to a extent that I had not ever previously experienced. All I wanted to was make him feel and know that he was important; focal; that he was all there was that mattered. This was to be no ordinary experience.

His wife had not only thrown him out of the house but threw him under the proverbial bus as well, turning his own parents against him and upending his entire life. I encountered him on the Venice Beach Pier, he was gazing out at the ocean, pondering his circumstances. I mostly listened to him, giving him his voice. In that moment, this straight guy didn't see me as a gay guy, or really even that I was another man; his entire energy was saying 'please just make me feel wanted". And he was, unconditionally. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of fucking another guy but asked if I would just lay with him and hold him so he could feel a sense of closeness to another. I could sense his insecurity but this man’s smouldering sexuality had nonetheless been ignited. While I did suck his big dick; lick his enormous nuts, taste his armpit and swallowed his load, the emotion he stirred when he looked at me in this way I haven't felt in a long time, it was the very definition of intimacy. Every experience I have had with the 150 men who have participated in this is different and rarely ‘romantic’ or so intimate. I find something about each and every one of these men to ‘attach’ a sense of purpose to and for in helping them on their life’s journey. The extended length clip of this man stands out, not for the tangible/material assistance/help afforded most but rather for the emotional, almost spiritual assistance which elevated this man to his rightful and deserved rank and dignity as a father and as a man.

I'd just finished the drive to San Francisco from Vancouver and parked in the hotel’s lot. Heading to the lobby I passed by this dude, one of the property’s security guards. Our eyes met only for a brief second but that’s all the time it took for his visual broadcast of a 'knowing disdain' that I was checking him out, especially the knot jutting out of his uniform trousers.. I checked in to the hotel, went back to the lot and saw him again when I was getting my suitcase. Again, there was that derisive, contemptuous eye contact but nothing said. After I got my stuff put away in the room, I found myself walking back to the lot. He was still there working. He exuded this aura, like he saw right through me. The video guy hadn't arrived yet but I pitched him anyway. He looked at me, shaking his head in a condescension of me, saying “dude, I *knew* where this was going from the moment I first saw you”.

This hotel security guard had a situational control from the moment of his first eye contact with me in the parking lot. Just watching him pull off his gear brought me to my knees. Despite having no video guy with me at the moment, I couldn’t let this go unchronicled so I’d strapped on my bodycam and took out my phone to capture what was occurring. When he hauled out this uncut dick and I got a whiff of that “worked all day need a shower” scent and it was all over for me. I sucked his big dick and got to lick some funky tasting hairy asshole. When he'd had enough of me he just abruptly stopped. It was over. I thanked him with an emotion which was honest. I saw him in the parking lot the next day and day after that, each time he ignored me like I didn't exist but we both knew I'd sucked his dick.

My reticence to engage with this man was simply based upon his outward appearance when I encountered in along Century Blvd in L.A. What began as a tentative, ‘iffy’ conversation quickly evolved, as his demeanour belied his outward look: here was this intelligent, well reasoned, soft spoken man who possessed a quiet self-confidence despite the challenges throughout his life. He grew up in foster homes, became involved in a gang, did self described "stupid things" which landed him in prison for twelve years when he was just a teenager. When I pitched him his primary concern was "what if someone within his gang saw this?" but he himself then reasoned "if someone from 'inside' sees this, well, what the fuck are they doing watching this shit anyway?".

I was reluctant to even talk to this self described ‘Blatino’ guy when I first saw him along Century Blvd. in LA. I wrongly “judged a book by its cover” and this man defines that misjudgment, solely because of his outward appearance which telegraphed an unknown ‘danger’ to me. What I found, however, was an intelligent, articulate man whose life is simply framed within the realities of his upbringing and circumstances. For him, gang life provides a structure and family that he otherwise didn't have. He was looking to find a parallel path within this family in making himself a legit career in music. When he shed his pants, this dude was *ready*; half hard before my even touching him; a beautiful brown penis with a pink dickhead that demanded attention. He had this thrusting motion with my head in his hands that just defines 'straight dude getting some head'. Despite his menacing appearance, he asserted this sort of gentle control throughout and finally blew his load all over my face.

We spent our final night in Vancouver at a hotel within the airport before a very early morning flight to Calgary. Going down to Tim Horton's just below the hotel in the Int'l Arrivals area, we encountered this guy who was waiting on his girlfriend's many hours long delayed flight. He held in his hand a bouquet of wilting flowers which provided the perfect opening to a conversation. It was clear he'd had a couple of drinks (or was partying) which enabled this wicked, narcissistic stream of consciousness which spewed from this dude's mouth. I'm so not pound of myself for surrendering to his brand of toxic masculinity but sexual human nature is what it is. After I pitched him he sort of leans into me, and in this low, almost whisper in my ear, calls me out for what this was, asking almost with a contempt "you wanna get a look at my dick?". He never verbally actually took the pitch, but rather just unceremoniously ditched the flowers he was holding into the trash and nodded over at the escalators which led up to the hotel.

We’d gone down to grab a bite to eat in the terminal at YVR/Vancouver Airport, the hotel restaurant being a bit too pricy for a modest budget. We encountered this narcissistic douchebag of a man in the Int'l Arrivals area. He was waiting on his girlfriend's much delayed flight, clutching a bouquet of cheap, wilting flowers intended for her. His smarmy, toxic masculinity was on full display from the moment I began talking to him. I was surprised, actually, that he took my pitch. Guys like him are usually just all talk. Most of you probably know the type. True to douchebag form, his dick was pretty modest and he never did get wood at all. Nonetheless, this peculiar dynamic of "straight dick/gay mouth" still possessed an undercurrent of control which he knew he had. I'm not proud of that fact or the fact that I succumbed to kneeling for him, but I guess sometimes nature is nature.

Walking through Union Square in SF, just across the street from the hotel, we found this extremely long haired dude in something of an alcove in the promenade, standing beside a trash bin. He was looking around, eyes darting back and forth as though he was scouting, looking for someone. I thought he was a street dude but as we walked towards him he motioned with his head, directing us towards this recessed corner of the plaza. Turns out he wasn’t living on the streets but rather was selling party favours to tourists who were looking to score. We talked to him, listened to his fascinating tales of being a small time dealer, which could fill a book. I pitched the dude expecting him to decline but to my surprise his only question was "so where do we go?" I pointed to the hotel building just across the street and off we went.

In a tourist-dense Union Square in S.F. we encountered this uber-long haired man who we thought was on the streets but was in fact a small time dealer selling his wares. Ever the entrepreneur, suddenly recognising his dick as a profit centre, he took my pitch not with an answer but rather the simply question: “so where do we go?”. I pointed to the hotel across the street. Kneeling for him, I could *smell* uncircumcised penis even before his pants slid down. He permitted me to clean it off. I tried licking back behind his balls and was tonguing near his hole but he wouldn't let me go any further there. His dick was only partially erect until he started to thrust and grab my head, when his cock instantly stiffened. It was as though it just got hard for the purpose of his delivering a dose of his genetic business. He pumped a gag-worthy load of this sour tasting spooge and when his dick finally slipped out of my mouth, I was just in this visual awe of it, and him. His dick continued to convulse even after he unloaded.

The Venice Beach Pier was insanely busy on this weekend afternoon when we ran in to this dude who was asking to bum a smoke. I handed him a fresh pack of Export "A" (a brand of Canadian cigarettes) to keep, which provided fodder for conversation. He said he'd crossed the country, running from the law in North Carolina after have done "something stupid that I regret", which he didn't want to talk about. While he maybe wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he nonetheless knew that he needed to get his act together and was saying how the time had come to ‘face the music. I told him that I’d help him get to where he needed to go on the east coast. No strings. We went back to the hotel to book him a ticket and got him a flight and confirmation number. I only ‘soft pitched’ him afterwards, by asking him if he got much pussy these days while on the street. He became sheepish, saying ‘none’ and alluded to "having a problem down there" that he didn't expound upon and didn't ask further about. I accept these men, all of them, as the genuine person that they are in the moment, without regard to traits physical or the issues which they are facing.

This man who we encountered at the Venice Pier was on the lam from the law in North Carolina. I told him 'no matter where you go, you always take yourself with you. There’s no escaping your own self’ (a hard learned self-truth). He said that he was ready to get back there to face whatever it was that he had done, which he didn’t want to talk about. I was proud of him for his wanting to ‘man up’ to whatever the challenge is that he was going to deal with. He's not hot in the classical sense; he's not intellectual, he's only modestly hung and his presence may not do much for many viewers, but he's a man and a fundamentally a decent fellow. He is exactly what the benevolentbjs project is all about. This dude has been living rough, on the street for a while. When he pulled down his pants and I got a good whiff of him, my instinct kicked in. I began to lick at his dick to clean him up. He grew wood quick. I sucked his dick for literally ten seconds, like maybe seven or eight strokes and he tries to pull away, embarrassed that his 'problem down there' is that he was already blowing his load. I responded by just giving him my mouth to let him see that I accept him and care about him exactly as nature made him. He stood there, stoically, and in only a few strokes more his dick delivered the last of his seed, which I swallowed. I’d given him my number along with getting him a ticket to Greensboro, but, not surprisingly, never did hear from him again.

While in the Richmond area of Vancouver, we found ourselves at this strange shopping centre, Lansdowne Mall, that was entirely Chinese, much like Richmond itself. Chinese stores, Chinese grocery, Chinese medical and herbs; the surroundings were surreal. The only thing that tethered this mall to North America was a pizza joint in their food court, where we encountered this dude. Sitting at a table adjacent, we began to shoot the shit with him over the demographics of the place and the fact that we were visitors here like himself, his being from Chile. His English was excellent and our conversation evolved. Now granted, the not for profit benevolentbjs project is generally about helping those on the periphery of society, but sometimes, well, heck, I’m only human. I ended up pitching this straight dude that was only by happenstance I encountered. He thought about it for a minute and said since he was so far from home, no one back there would ever know. And besides, he said, though he’d never had a dude blow him, life was all about the “adventures in travel’.

Having found this dude at a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint in a very Chinese area of Vancouver, it turns out he’s a tourist from South America. While the benevolentbjs project is mainly about helping those on the periphery of society to find their better tomorrow, well, I’m only human. This straight dude encountered through sheer happenstance was to just too compelling to not pitch. His self described “adventures in travel” from Chile landed him in my hotel room with his pants around his ankles. He went commando and man, this guys dick was ready from the very start. He had a perfect uncut dick. I mean, this guy defined that smouldering Latino heterosexuality. His ass was SO furry that even though he wouldn’t let me even get anywhere near his hole, I did tongue his hairy cheeks. And his armpits, which broadcast a masculine perfection of presence. I sucked his cock and when he blew his load, it was so copious and with such velocity that it hit the back of my throat provoking me to gag. (and gag and gag)

Walking into a Kroger grocery store, this man was standing out front of the entrance. He was talking to anyone who'd listen to him, a sense of panic in his very presence, trying to "borrow" money to buy infant formula for his kid. Without any interaction with him, I went into the store, got a store gift card, handed it to him and walked away. As I did, he caught up to me, wanting to explain himself. I told him that no explanation was necessary but he really needed someone to listen: He'd lost every dollar he had at some casino and was ashamed at his situation. I told him "there's always help for this that you can access but for right now, get some groceries and get home to your wife and family". I'd scribbled my number's on a post-it note and stuck to the back of the gift card. The following morning, I awoke to see on my phone that this man was reaching out.

This dude lost his very last dollars at some casino and was reduced to panhandling in front of a Kroger's to buy infant formula and food for his family. I handed him a store gift card with my phone number stuck to the back of it. I wished him well, told him that I’d help him find the resources to beat his gambling issue if he wanted, and left. Given that he’s a ‘family man’ and dealing with what can be an difficult challenge to admit to, I was surprised to see that he'd text me the next day. Sitting in his car in the hotel parking lot, we were going over the programmes that exist to help him right there in town. While shooting the shit, he starts talking about his wife, which led to "she ain't givin' me any, if ya known what I mean, because she'd just ‘popped out’ another kid”. I knew I could help there, too. His dick wasn't huge but he nonetheless managed to do his genetic business where it counts: in his wife's pussy to make babies. As I was kneeling there, it’s like I was ‘channelling’ in my mind, equating my mouth, which his penis was lurching in and out of, with his wife’s pussy. In that moment, I had a purpose to him. This young daddy was honest that he hadn't been getting any. It took him all of about 40 seconds to blow his nut in my mouth. I swallowed. I thanked him. Six weeks later, I get a text from him proudly telling me he'd completed the treatment programme that we got him into. Every one who supports these men through the not for profit benevolentbjs project has played a role in this man's success. He is but one example of the tangible results which are manifest when we, as a community, play a positive role which impacts peoples lives.