Missing Porn

A few months ago, I was out with a friend of mine at the NYC gay bar, The Monster. We got to talking about my life since I retired from studio-based porn, and he asked me a very simple question that you would have thought that since my retirement in September 2009, one of my post-porn interviewers would have asked me by now.

About my no longer doing porn, he asked me, "Do you miss it?"

Like I said, a very simple question. However, something inside me realized at that moment that for someone who prides themselves on being honest with themselves and on this blog, it didn't have a very simple answer. Which is why I refrained from my giving the 1st response that popped in my head which was, 'Hell, no!' But knowing that's the easy answer, I kept it inside.

Being as detailed-oriented as I am, this requires more explanation that a simple "yes" or "no". So while I answered my friend in less than 15 seconds after he asked, my explanation of the thoughts that went through my mind to lead up to my answer will take longer.

Initially, I must confess that there is an aspect to the porn industry that I do miss. That is the attention and adoration of fans for my being such an exhibitionist. But it's short-lived when the honesty I pride myself on reminds me as to how part of the reason I came to leave studio-based porn is because I realized that attention and adoration is in some way fake. For the attention and adoration is all underground. Especially due to the sexual repression of Americans, you can't be out and proud about admiring a pornstar the way you could a Hollywood celebrity who can be just as much a troubled soul. So while most porn actors are in it looking for approval, the screams and shouts feeding their egos by personal appearances in clubs, bars and porn-related events, to the world at large, it's just a hush - when compared to those for their mainstream counterparts.

And while the attention and adoration is in a way fake, it in turn causes a chain of fake behavior in others. For I have had some people end their friendships with me on Facebook. Anyone who knows how I do my updates there knows that I don't tag people in adult-oriented status updates, or post on their walls unless they themselves make it obvious that they work in adult entertainment. And anyone who knows how to use Facebook knows that tags and direct postings are the only way people you might not want to make privy to that info would discover it. Yet some people who met me either through my involvement in porn, or knew of it when they friended me show themselves to fake purity by removing me without me ever tagging them or personally posting something on their Facebook wall.

More things that flashed through my mind in that less than 15 seconds were behavior patterns I saw from various porn studios. Such as studios like Falcon telling me that they'll call when there's a role where I'm a "good fit", only for me to see a White version of myself in a trailer, or on a DVD cover. Or Lucas Entertainment wasting my time with numerous trips to their office, and only using more Black models now because mine and others' proven claims of Michael Lucas' racism were starting to bite him in the ass. Or Channel 1 Releasing interested in me only if I lived in California, or making my way there on my own, but allegedly known to be willing to pay for the transportation of a White wanna-be-pornstar. Or FlavaWorks willing to pay $100,000 to a rapper to only pose nude, yet pay 3-digits (a.k.a. peanuts) to their models who put themselves at greater health risks by having full-on sex. Or porn actors and bloggers with their contradictory allegiances. Or porn actors who in private will pat me on the back for being so upfront about all the behind-the-scenes bullshit, but in public are quick to leave me standing on my own in the comments sections of websites like The Sword, and Gay Porn Times.

All these instances and more flooded through my brain in the less than 15 seconds I tried to find the right words to reply to my friend asking me, "Do you miss it?"

In reply, instead of rehashing all those details, I gave him the short version telling him, "Initially, I think I do. But when I recall all the bullshit that I've seen and been told. I have to say,...

FUCK NO!!!!"

Now, I don't regret my getting into the porn industry. Even though while by the present handling of it, I look at it as a mistake for anyone to do, I feel it is a mistake that we are destined to make. And when we've matured more into living for our true purpose, we will leave it behind a great deal.

This is not to say that I can ever fully leave the porn industry behind where I won't comment after being made privy to the latest going-ons of it. After all, the reason I don't regret my getting into the porn industry is because it is my involvement in the porn industry that gave me a platform for my voice, LeNair's voice, to be heard ---- even though it was under the guise of porn actor, "Tré Xavier".

I have done what sadly too few other porn actors have done. I have used my porn persona as a way for my voice to get closer to the mainstream as I had hoped for before entering porn. While I am now being invited to readings like "Red Umbrella Diaries" for past and present sex workers, I am also creating my own well-received poetry series and having readings in more mainstream venues. As well as most recently, being asked to be a featured speaker on more mainstream issues like racism in the LGBT community for the group MACT/NY. The stereotypical leeches in the porn industry didn't get me to this point, but their being dumb enough to fight me helped. Take this as me seeing and riding on the silver lining of the dark cloud that is studio-based porn.

So while studio-based porn has for the most part lowered itself to becoming what I call "visualized prostitution", I can't in good sense and self-respect miss being a part of it. My initial idea of missing it comes from me missing my ideal of studio-based porn. An ideal replaced by the sad reality of how it is plagued by the presence of more social and/or career rejects (like I was), instead of well-adjusted exhibitionists (like I am now).


Photo from Next Door Magazine September 2011 issue

Write That Down #38

I believe that this "Write That Down" quote is one of my most revealing. In fact, as I am finally stating to work on writing my autobiography, this quote is in the running to have a definite place in it. I feel it's quite self-explanatory as it reads:
Some wonder why I tell so much behind-the-scenes dirt on the porn industry. Well, while I did my part, few kept their word to me when I was in it. So now, I have NO "Code Of  Silence" to honor.

That ____ Made Me Tell Me, 'I'm Gay'

As National Coming Out Day (October 11th) approaches, here is a time appropriate question for you:

Is there an image from an art form (photo, artwork, TV show, video, website, etc.) that you closely associate with the day you came out to YOURSELF? If so, what is it?

Answer here or in the comments section.

I'll answer with an update via vlog after the 1st reply.

The Accidental Barebacker

While I have often advised finding pleasure in safe sex practices, I have never been a hypocrite denying that I have experienced some also pleasurable bareback sex in my time. Because I have. And recently did again...by accident.

Some may wonder how is barebacking by accident possible. Well, when I tell you this story it should make more sense.

I was traveling, went to a bar, and was asked to dance on the bar for tips. On this particular night, the party at that bar goes all out with most of the dancers getting totally naked. I started out in my underwear like the 2 paid dancers. I was turned on by the guys up there, but as I have mentioned in past posts, when it comes to me getting a hard-on, I must be touched. So I touched my crotch and got the hard-on started, danced with the other dancers a bit, but after that, the hard-on left. As time went on, it wound up being 5 guys on the bar. Then once it came time to take the underwear off, like the rest, my underwear came off as well. So there I was totally naked on the bar, not at all drunk. Most bartenders think that it takes alcohol to get the dancers' exhibitionism to surface, but that's not the case with me. All I had was 2 weak-on-alcohol Rolling Rocks and water in between and after. So I was totally sober while getting naked, and have no regrets about doing it.

At one point, about 3 of us wound up in a make out session on the bar. It was one of the paid dancers in between me and one of the other guests on the bar. After kissing him a bit, the other guest started giving the paid dancer a blowjob. After that, the paid dancer saw my hard-on and started jerking me off, and I jerked off his in return. I was totally turned on by his beautiful body, ass, and cock. So there's no doubt that my hard-on was greatly inspired by the fantasy of a flip-fucking session with him. I wanted to taste his cock too. I licked his toned torso, went down his abs, then to his belly button which was a outie like mine, then down to his cock. So I went down on him, literally - for all to see.

Like most guys do because of my oral prowess, I felt him start growing in my mouth. While using my right hand to feel his body, at the same time I was using my left hand to jerk myself to stay hard. Once I decided that I sucked his cock enough, I stood back up. Then he returned the favor and started sucking me off. Now, I've mentioned in the past how I don't get turned on too much by the idea of a blowjob because few guys can do them well. So I'm always hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. Well, while I was expecting the worst, I got the best. Because I was definitely enjoy his sucking my dick. What I didn't know, but was soon to find out, was that his sucking my dick wasn't only to return the favor of me sucking his.

When he stopped sucking my cock, he then turned with his back to me. He grabbed on to my cock again. I've dance totally naked at parties before, and when you get with another dancer, there's always been a moment where you simulate sex, mainly standing doggy-style. It could be by one guy rubbing his cock against the other guy's ass, or by one guy's cock being in between the other guy's legs. I thought he grabbed my cock to do the latter, because it was already rubbing against the crack of his ass when he grabbed it. So he grabbed my cock, and it slipped into this tight, warm space. And while it was a very pleasant feeling around my cock, it was also very unexpected.

If you take one finger, and either wrapped your hand around it or stick it between your closed upper thighs, then move it back and forth as if to fuck your hand or thighs, your finger is going to feel a different sensation around it than it does when you finger-fuck the ass of someone. Why? Because your hand and thighs are skin, while the inside of an ass is flesh. And that's the difference I noticed on my dick. I realized that my dick was no longer inside his hand, nor was it ever between his legs. Instead, my dick....was inside his ass.

I was wondering how do I proceed with this as a bunch of questions ran through my mind. With all these people watching, do I fuck him bareback, maybe sending out a wrong message? Do I pull out to send the right one? It all happened so fast and unexpectedly.

But before I tell how I proceeded, let's take these variables into consideration, and be totally honest afterwards about what YOU would have done in my situation:
1) You're horny
2) You already have a hard-on because you're on a bar with hot guys you wouldn't mind fooling around with.
3) One of the main guys turning you on just stuck your dick in his ass, so your fantasy has now become reality without possible proper preparation, but
4) there's a room full of people watching, so you don't want to freak out, especially when it turns out that
5) his ass on initial entry feels GREAT!

So what did I do?

I fucked him bareback right there on the bar with everyone watching.

 Now, I know the barebacking police may get in an uproar, ready to arrest and book me for not only doing it, but revealing it. But there's no reason to keep it a secret when a room full of people were eyewitness to it. And with all those aforementioned variables at play, I bet 90+% of men you know, being the sex-driven animals that we men are, would have done the same. If they say otherwise, that 90+% would be lying. But if it any consolation to you, I didn't do it for even 5 minutes, nor did I cum inside him. And just like at sex parties with a condom on,  I washed off afterwards.

I'm sure this leaves some with the questions:
Would I have full-on sex with him? YES. Would I use a condom? Well, I've gotten to the point with my telling of sex tales that if you care to notice that unless the condom plays a pivotal role in the story like me seeing it filled with cum after the fact, that I now leave the use of it out of the story. Why?

Because practically all of us knew about practicing safe sex even before we knew our orientation and/or lost our virginity. So I've decided that this is one adult situation that I'm not going to keep teaching and teaching to you so much when it should have already been drilled into your head to the point that you're now more than sick of hearing it, and looooong before stumbling upon my blog. So to reiterate my 2nd question, would I use a condom? Just like in the last few sex tales, this case is the same...

....none of your damn business. BE WELL. :-)

Would attend a sex party marketing PRIMARILY to guys on the DL (down low) and the guys who lust for them?

Would attend a sex party marketing PRIMARILY to guys on the DL (down low) and the guys who lust for them?

Answer here

LeNair on Tumblr

I've never understood it.

But I'm starting to get used to it.

If you didn't know already by noticing the added tab above, I am now on Tumblr as well.

I am using it primarily for miscellaneous postings like random naughty pics with dirty rantings. However, for now you can also see some of the videos posted within some of the blog posts that you've read here over on that site. So feel free to check it out at your leisure. Enjoy. ;-)

LeNair's Tumblr - http://lxtreme.tumblr.com

A Tale of Two Emotions - 9/11

I am feeling 2 contrasting emotions at once today. Sadness over past fears, and simultaneously joy over how those past fears didn't come to fruition.

I try to live a life where I allow no human to be able to put me in fear. It's the reason I sound off on my blog the way I do, fully aware that some of the people I talk about, I can easily come face to face with. It is also the reason that I have the strength to question the ignorance of some in positions of authority, such as when I worked at Kenyon & Kenyon LLP.

But on that day, September 11, 2001, Osama Bin Laden had the extremely rare sadistic pleasure of putting me in fear. Fear that his sending people stupid and low enough on self-esteem to follow his rules of cowardice by not do his heinous plans himself would make me lose members of my family.

You see, at the time of 9/11, my sister worked in 7 World Trade Center, and on that very morning, her son, my oldest nephew went to her job before heading to his school in the same neighborhood. He left for his school not long before the planes had hit the Twin Towers. And with phone communications down, like for many, it was a waiting game for us to find out if my sister and nephew were safe.

Our concern grew as my sister's husband went to look for my sister. Well, to make a long story short, all 3 did make it back home to Brooklyn...physically safe at least. I say "physically safe" because my sister actually bared witness to seeing bodies fall from the Twin Towers. While my sister is alive, it is mental scarring like this inflicted upon her that made my dark side surface, and return to Osama Bin Laden the sadistic pleasure he got from putting us in fear when I heard on the news of his being killed.

So on this day, I am feeling the joy of being blessed. Yet at the same time, I'm feeling sadness partly because the emotion of fear from a human being's wrongdoing makes me feel weak. And that feeling of weakness makes me sad. The other reason I feel sad is for those who weren't blessed to have the outcome that I did with some or all of their family members being physically safe after such an ordeal.

It is for these reasons that I can't forget September 11, 2001. Because for me, it will always be a very real tale of 2 emotions ---sadness that for me, but not all, ends with joy.

Prelude question to "Seeing Me Before I"

Have you ever met someone attracted to you who seemed to know you were gay BEFORE you did? If so, did anything come from it, or is it now that you are out to yourself that can you admit that the attraction was mutual, and they might be the one that got away?

Answer here or in the comments section

You will get my answer tomorrow when I post my backstory and poem, "Seeing Me Before I".

Hate Being Black?!

Whenever we have an epiphany about a flawed idea of ours, whether your belief system calls it an act of God, the devil, or fate, some occurrence arises to put us to the test. Making us sometimes question if we were right to change our minds about that situation, thing, person, or type of person. In this case, I was recently tested on overcoming my racism against other Black males - not once, but twice.

Both incidents happened at the NYC bar, The Cock.

The most recent incident I'll speak on happened this past Tuesday's Big Gulp party at The Cock. I was standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to come by so I can order a drink. While I'm waiting, I feel these hands patting my ass. Thinking it might be one of my friends who I run into at the bar on a Tuesday night, I was hoping my 6th sense would pick up a vibe of familiarity to ward off  the possible aggravation of my space and body being intruded upon, and my potentially violent reaction to defend both. No such luck. So I turned around, and it's some Black guy that I've don't even know. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me. You really need to stop that."

He said, "I was just admiring it.", while patting it a couple times more.

Practicing restrain with every fiber of my being to not spin him around, and put both of his hands behind him making 2 chicken wings, I said, "Well, I didn't extend an invitation. So you need to stop."

"OK. Then I'll just wait for my invitation then."

To avoid the aforementioned potentially violent reaction, I used my mouth to shoot off a warning shot by replying to his audacity by saying, "Well, you will be a gray-haired old man with a beard hanging down to the floor, and you still won't get an invitation."

This was all while a cute tall, slim blond was standing next to me, checking me out. And I only became more pissed off by this Black guy's actions because I started thinking to myself how if this blond is hearing any of this, his first impression of me is having the worse in me being provoked to surface by some socially inept asshole.

Later on in the night, I was heading to the restroom. As I was going in the same Black guy was there at the door. He said, "Hello"

I smiled back and said, "Hello". Because this was a much better approach than the one he gave before. I was even about to let this be the 1st step in him redeeming himself from his intrusive behavior earlier.

That is until I became aware that he didn't realize it was me until I responded. So he snidely replied, "Oh, it's you! The one who didn't want to be touched."

I ignored him, and proceeded with my night. Which included me eventually meeting up with the tall blond who was at the bar when I saw that asshole.

The blond was walking away from the bar as I was walking towards it to get a soda. We saw each other in passing, made eye contact, and I stopped my trip to the bar as he stopped his trip to where he was going. We simultaneously moved towards each other, and exchanged greetings. I heard an accent, and it turns out he was Norwegian. We made out heavily, even until the bar closed, and continued outside.

While outside the bar, we continued making out having no idea of what we were going to do beyond the bar. One guy came by and said that we looked so cute together that he wanted to take our picture, so we let him. That's not the 1st time such a thing has happened. Not to toot my own horn, but while I'm already photogenic on my own as a model, it seems that I'm often with guys who are either equally photogenic, or have an aura that compliments mine so much that they make strangers want a memento of the sexual and/or romantic indications of our being near each other.

Eventually, me and the Norwegian took a cab back to my place. He started undoing my pants to give me a blowjob in the backseat of the cab. Now, this guy was pretty tall. So his head bobbing up and down as he leaned over to suck me off I'm sure was quite obvious should the cab driver decide to look at us in his rear view mirror. So since the cab driver didn't know exactly where to go, I played it off as if the Norwegian was just laying on my lap while I'm moved my head pretending to try to look at street signs to make sure the cab driver is on the right path.

What made me write this post is because looking back, the Norwegian could have been replaced by that Black guy. Because had it not been for his lousy approach, I would  have found him attractive. And I had the feeling that his reason for his wrong approach was because, he was a Black male in place dominated by light complexions, and with racism is the American gay community being as plentiful as it is, he felt no matter how he approached me,  being a "brother", I was "a sure thing".

WRONG! Just because racism is so rampant in the gay community, doesn't mean that you can touch and fondle me just because we are perceived to be of the same ethnicity thinking "us brothers must stick together". For your are NOT my"brother" having that mindset. Being a "brother" to me is about your character, NOT your skin color.

Furthermore. I have standards and rules of etiquette set for myself and my suitors, even when participating in some kind of backroom action. And those standards and rules of etiquette are blind to your initial cuteness, height, weight, and color. For once you show yourself to be lacking enough in character to break those rules, no matter what outer beauty you might have had in your favor, you have just made yourself such an ugly creature inside that it has infected you outside to where you must be dismissed, and keep invading my space, possibly disposed of.

This bring me to backtrack to the 1st incident. I saw these 2 guys who being the lousy judge of ethnicity that I am, I wasn't sure if they were White American, European, or some light-complexioned Latinos. One with dark hair, the other bald. I noticed the dark-haired one checking me out, and whispering to his bald friend while doing so. I never made a move to get near them even though they were attractive. I'm always horny, but I usually let chance create my situations, and this was one of those nights. It wasn't until I went to the bathroom, came out, and chose not to go to far as to avoid going back into the crowd where I had already received some unwanted attention that night that someone walked pass me, and came so close that I leaned back, and almost fell back on someone. I tapped that someone's hand to acknowledge them back there just in case they didn't hear me say my apologies over the loud music. When I turned to see who I was talking to, it turned out being the bald guy from those 2 guys I saw earlier. Our hands slowly started grazing each others'. I wasn't sure if this was on purpose or not, until it kept happening, and then he slipped his finger into my hand rubbing my palm. Like I said before, I thought they both were attractive, so I went with it. He started feeling me up from behind, and as I reached back to return the favor, I realized someone was behind him. It was the dark-haired guy who was originally checking me out.  Well, I wasn't going to begrudge this 2-for-1 grope session, so I continued going with it.

Of course, the first thing on me that got felt up below my waist was my ass. I reached back and did the same on them both. As things progressed, the bald guy loosened my pants so he could reach down inside to feel my cock, which was only semi-hard, because when it comes to getting hard, I'm more responsive to actual touch than I am to simple arousal. So once he dug down into my pants and started playing with it, I started growing in his hand. At this point, the dark-haired one came from the back, and got in front of me. So now I was in a sandwich. The dark-haired one reached into my pants and got a feel as well. He then started to totally undo my pants to pull my dick completely out while the bald guy took advantage of feeling my bare ass being more accessible to grope freely.

Especially at The Cock, it's times like these when one pants get loose in dark corners and hitting the floor that pickpockets spring into action. I know this because that's how some time ago, my iPod was stolen from the pocket of my hoodie while giving a blowjob. So by this point, I had enough hands on me that I needed to focus my mind on too many things at once. That's when while I was standing there with my cock out in between these 2 guys, a Black guy comes along, and starts reaching for my dick. Normally in such situations, I'll allow a touch, but when I say "stop", then stop. Especially since one of the 2 guy's hands were already on my dick, and I don't have a foot-long cock. So even though his moans from initially seeing me were a bit off-putting, I allowed the Black guy a couple of touches, then I politely stopped him. But instead of taking the hint of "that's enough", he tries a few more times to put his hand on my dick, with each try getting the same response from me. By now, it would be perfectly within my right to break his fuckin' fingers. My 2 original suitors break away, and we thank each other for the fun moment, and go our separate ways.

As I was going on my way, the Black looks at me and says, "Admit it. You hate being black."

I looked at him seething with anger and replied, "No, I don't hate being Black. I just hate you". Because he also showed himself to be so common of a Black male in a place dominated by light complexions where if he:
(1) goes for one of the few other Blacks in the room, because he feels that an easy bet, and;
(2) doesn't get the Black person they got their eye on, then that Black person is a hater of their own ethnicity.

Now, I have repeatedly admitted to overcoming my racism against other Black males. I have also repeated how my 1st time of sex with a Black male is forever on DVD in "Oh Boy Escorts 2" with my scene partner, "Joseph Nash", now known on RandyBlue as "Jackson Kale". 

And in recent years, I have had sex with Blacks off-camera. And since I can attest to how none of those encounters were because of being in a drug and/or alcohol induced haze, I can thankfully say I have no regrets. So what turned me off to this guy was as I said before, my body was occupied enough and his moaning showing a vibe of desperation made him less attractive.

And why would I hate being Black? For my black skin is part of what these guys, and every suitor in my past, present, and future are drawn to because of it being the beautiful color that it is. Now, I admit that it may be hard to remember that because of LGBT media making it seem that "light is right" and practicing tokenism to avoid charges of racism, and the many dumb gays who follow the media's lead. I have to stop and take the time to remember that, and love my black skin.

Especially when I take note of the fact that when many of these guys of light complexions the media is making out to be so beautiful hit my age and older, they won't be drawing in younger guys the way I can. That is, unless they pay for these young guys' time, and/or pay to have some kind of work done to hide the wear and tear of drugs, alcohol, partying, and living up to the expectations of being perceived as "young, light, and beautiful".

So taking all that into account, me hate being Black?! ....Mother Fucker, Please!

While the 2 Black guys who annoyed me could have made me backpedal on overcoming my racism against other Black males, I had to remember something that EVERY person of EVERY ethnicity must remember about one another. That being how a few bad apples brought to our attention doesn't speak for an entire ethnicity. And if we have been adult enough to overcome that shortsightedness to make us think otherwise, we can't let a few bastards of whatever ethnicity weaken us to return to a life of being narrow-minded.