Titillating Autobiography Tease

This past Friday, I again attended the monthly erotica open mic event, "Titillating Tongues". As I mentioned on Facebook, in the newly allotted time of 7 minutes (instead of the prior 6) I debuted some of the rough draft of my autobiography that I'm presently working on. The chapter telling of the night I lost my virginity to be exact with the tentative title, "Night of 1,000 Popped Cherries". The video explains how that title came about.

Also, for some strange reason, the video I recorded at the event cut off while I was reading. With that being the case, I decided to take this as an opportunity to include the parts of the rough draft that I would not have been able to read at the event because it would have taken me over the allotted time. So the video's sequence is as follows:

1) Video of my introduction by hostess Aimee Herman, followed by my telling the backstory to what I'm about to read;
2) Voice-over of the rough draft taking place before what I read at the event;
3) Video of what I actually did read at the event, then finally
4) Voice-over picking up from where the video cuts off

So all of the reading is in the proper order, they just come from different sources. Enjoy the video, or read the text version below the video.


excerpt from "Night of 1,000 Popped Cherries"

The Leader ran the water and filled the tub. He let me get in first and asked if the water temperature was OK. I told him it was, then he got out of his underwear, and there it was ----his dick. Unlike me, he was circumcised. I have no idea how big it was totally flaccid because it was already semi-hard. Probably from anticipating what he planned on doing to me. I wanted to suck it and touch it the second I saw it. But I instead reminded myself that he was coming into the tub with me, so I could pace myself and not make it obvious as to how anxious my being a very sexual 30 year-old virgin had made me.

As he stepped in, I moved back. Once he was in, he had me lay my legs over his.  We rubbed and kissed on each other. In moving my hands, I did the same thing then as I do now. I followed his lead. He rubbed my shoulders, I rubbed his. When his hands moved to my chest, mine moved to his. I was basically making myself into an erotic 3-dimensional mirror. Then finally, what I was hoping to mimic most – he started fondling my dick. I wasted no time in doing the same to him. After all those years of feeling my own to masturbate to the fantasy of it, I was finally feeling the texture of the treasure trail, pubic hair, cock, and balls of someone else. It was like the beginning of a heavy weight holding me down finally being lifted off of me.

The Englishman then came into the bathroom. He wanted to take a piss. The Leader and myself both said that we didn’t mind. So he took a piss, and looked at how me and The Leader looked so comfortable. We both had inviting looks on our faces, and me having an inviting look meant that this virgin was ready to be a slut. So as the Englishman read our faces, he asked if he could join us. We both felt the more the merrier, and then he got in the tub as well. So now it was “Rub-a-dub-dub, 3 men in a tub”.

And there was a lot of rubbing being done, and not only by our hands.

The Englishman was behind me, and his hard-on was rubbing against my back. Once I felt that, I got worried because I knew the condoms were in the living room, but these guys, especially the Englishman seemed ready to fuck my ass right there in the tub. Well, my worry was for nothing, because he tried no such thing. Instead, they just popped another cherry for me by pampering me. The Englishman  soaped up my back while The Leader soaped up my front. I soaped up The Leader’s front since he was the one I was facing, but at some point, I did get a chance to reach behind me and feel the Englishman’s hard cock in my hand. So that was now 2 dicks felt in one night. It’s a big enough deal for a virgin to feel 1 penis. But I had the extreme pleasure of fondling 2 dicks with the recipients glad to be fondled.

As I fondled his dick, I was loving every second of it. I had a gorgeous man’s hands on the front of me, and another sexy man’s hands on my back. What was irking me at the moment was myself. I was so nervous and overwhelmed by all the new sensations being brought on by others’ hands on me besides my own that I couldn’t get hard - much.

You see, there was something about the Englishman that out of the three guys I had interacted with so far, he was the one who made my dick become somewhat erect. Be it by way of the kiss earlier, or now this bath. Maybe it was because I wasn’t as visually attracted to him as I was the other two. So I became more at ease with him. But what he lacked in looks, he made up for in sexual aura. And I think that is what was making me become semi-hard with him. It happened enough that I began to think that if he was going to be the one to fuck me that he would be the one it would be more obvious if I should enjoy it. Either way, I knew a hard-on for me didn’t matter. Since I wasn’t going to penetrate anybody anyway. I could feel that at least between these 2, I was going to be the one getting dick, and not giving dick.

We all got out of the tub to dry off. I never got a towel of my own, because the cherry of me being pampered was still being popped. The Leader started drying off my front, while the Englishman started drying off my back. Just like when we were all in the tub.

We all walked out of the bathroom, and another cherry got popped for me. Not simulated like in a R-rated movie. Nor like in a porn video, as I had seen so many times before. But instead it was live, right before my very eyes,….The Cyclist and the Asian were on the floor having sex. This was my first time seeing gay sex. The Asian was on his back with his ass in the air as The Cyclist was in a squatting position bouncing up and down on top of him.

Like I said before about this night being so overwhelming that I couldn’t get hard as turned on as I was by all I had seen so far. And now this----more things to turn me on.

The Cyclist had a piercing in his taint. That did what all piercings do for me, which was pique my curiosity. What I was really getting turned on by as my body failed to show it was by watching his condom-covered dick slowly slide in and out of the Asian’s ass. With The Cyclist going so deep that his plump balls, obviously filling up with cum, were being squeezed with each slow inward thrust. It was like watching an opaque white skin-toned water-balloon being squeezed. But this time, since it was attached to one person while touching another, you knew that some sensations were being felt by both people involved. A sensation of being grazed was felt by the recipient, but a tingling sensation to the person that the balls were attached to.

I had to control myself, because all that pent-up sexual frustration, plus my geeky love of nature made me want to go in for a closer look. And if I did go in closer, no doubt that frustration and my natural kinkiness would have made me lick something. But there was really no need to go in closer. For even  though I wear glasses for such a distance, from those maybe 3 yards away, I felt like I was watching that dick go in and out of that ass in high definition. As if I could see every hair follicle, every pubic hair born from those follicles, every muscle contraction, and every liquid produced and moving from the sex.

I stood and watched wondering what the Cyclist and the Asian were feeling. What sensations went through the Cyclist’s dick as it slid through the Asian’s ass tunnel, and how did those sensations compare to all those days and nights of me wrapping my hand around my dick and stroking it? And what did it feel like for the Asian to have the Cyclist’s thick dick sliding in and out of him? Was it a sensation that could make him cum like masturbation has been doing for me all those years? Or was it a different sensation to be had? Well, since I was sure someone in that room was going to fuck my ass that I would get more of an idea of what the Asian was experiencing soon enough. So the question burning in my mind after this excitement was, “When?! WHEN???!!!!”

Although this excerpt makes it seem like my autobiography is meant to be a bunch of elongated sex tales. Make no mistake, for like I said in a recent Facebook update:

"My losing my virginity in a 5-man orgy will no doubt be a HOT sex tale to sell my autobiography to publishers and the public. However, its IMPORTANCE to the book or my life is not about the sex, like too many gay males measure their worth. It's something else....And you'll have to read the book to find out what."

With that said, I hope that info and the little bit you heard and/or read thus far left you wanting more.

Thank You, Fool!

We all have guys in our pasts that we look back on and say to ourselves, "What the fuck was I thinking?!"
Add to that the mornings, days, nights of rendezvouses (secret and planned) that you spent exchanging the body fluids of sweat, semen, ass, and vaginal juices through sex that you either wore on and/or in your bodies, and you can add to the aforementioned sentiment feelings of utter disgust. And maybe even regret. I know because such an example of that for me is Dave, the guy from my poem "You Can Say Never".

Then there are those like Danny whose emotionally crippled ways made you the only one between the two of you adult enough to try and make a date happen. Or when the date does happen, you were the only one adult enough to call it that, while guys like Toby and his faggotry refused to. And after you gave so much of yourself emotionally and time-wise, all you have to show for it are what?...KISSES.

Well, you may feel cheated. I know one part of me does. Meanwhile another part of me, the wiser part of me, is screaming "Thank God we never had sex! Even with a condom, THANK YOU, JESUS!!!!" Because in all honesty, I have met some one-night stands show more character, emotional health, and humanity in that one night, than those guys (and others like them) have shown me in my entire time involved with them. And coming to that realization while writing this poem is why my diplomacy is dead. So I now refer to them to be FOOLS. For only a fool would drag their feet in cherishing someone as good as me. Hence the title of the following poem:

11 Dicks To Celebrate Year 11?

Some of my most loyal readers may have grown tired of these posts coming every year at this time. But I'm writing it anyway. As today, February 9, 2013 makes it 11 years of my coming out in the most important way of all ----to myself. Followed by a few hours later, in the wee-hours of February 10th, I lost my virginity in a 5-man orgy. A story I have told on m blog before, but I plan to get into more erotic, yet thought-provoking detail about in the autobiography I'm working on.

Anyway, every year, I try to figure out a way to celebrate. Here are a few raunchy ideas that came to mind:

1) Be a gangbang bottom for 11 guys.
PRO - Sounds HOT!!!! Since when I bottom, I am a power-bottom, so I'm sure that I have a hole that can take it.
CON - Where would I do this? For I am not trying to fit 11 HOT naked guys into my little studio apartment. Furthermore, it's not that momentous an occasion to rent a space for it.
2)  Have a flip-fuck orgy with 11 versatile guys.
PRO- Again, sounds HOT!!!!. For it would show my sexual evolution from being a total bottom when I lost my virginity to being the versatile guy I am now, as I've always predicted.
CON - Same as Idea #1.
3) Go to a ManMeat sex party, and seek out to have 11 fucks as a top and/or bottom.
PRO - Again, sounds HOT!!!! Plus, it alleviates the con of Ideas 1 & 2.
CON - There's no guarantee that I'll get 11 fucks.

And while I haven't mentioned it as a pro or con thus far, for those who want to play "condom police" in my bedroom, I am well-stocked on condoms and lube to make this happen. So add that as an OVERALL PRO.

Well, with the recent snowfall that has presently covered NYC, I am not selfish enough to try to make anyone come to my place, or go to anyone else's for any kind of hook-up. And even if there wasn't snow, any idea would have been too much mental and physical work just to celebrate 11 years out to myself.

With that in mind, I can just look on the bright side....Another thing I've mentioned before, and not to be morbid, but had it not been for my taking the steps to come out to myself, I could be dead. So maybe the best way to celebrate is that instead of using intercourse (like too many do to validate themselves), I could simply "embrace some silence" and cherish the fact that I'M ALIVE.

For sometimes, simple is the best way to go.

BUSTED!....At The Cock, Then By Cock

Saturday night, I went to The Cock. As soon as I got there, I saw a hot guy, and it seems that the noticing of each other was mutual. He seemed to be sitting with friends. As the night progressed, the glares at each other increased. At one point he went to the bathroom, and he grazed my back as he went by. After all the "shoulda, coulda, wouldas" that I've sung to myself over time, I decided that I was going to go for it. So I waited about 15 - 30 seconds and went after him. Hoping to do my routine of possibly putting myself at the right place and the right time.

He was standing there at one of the 2 urinals with his legs spread apart just so, and a nice ass filling his jeans. Unfortunately, there was a creepy older guy at the other urinal...who wouldn't leave. So once my target was done, my only choice was to go to that same urinal my target left. Once my peripheral vision saw the creepy guy's face, I realized that I've seen him there before, and that is was his routine. My target washed his hands at the sink which was to the left of the creepy guy, then dried them with the dryer above. I saw him peeping, but with the creepy guy there blocking my view, I couldn't tell was he peeking to see the creepy guy's cock, or mine. My target then left, and now the creepy guy was looking at me. Lucky for me he didn't want Black cock, so he left. Never mind that my target that I finally got up the nerve to chase after was getting away, my piss couldn't come out fast enough. Because yes, I really did have to pee. Chasing this guy just gave me reason to go. So letting my piss empty from my dick only made me more anxious.

Finally, I was done. And when I washed my hand as few do, then walked out of the bathroom. I was looking for my target, but sensed that he wasn't far. And he wasn't. For I had walked pass him as he was leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom. We introduced ourselves to each other, and started chatting. He then invited me to continue chatting with him while he goes back to sit with the friends he came with. So I did. When he and his friends decided to leave, he invited me back to his place. I accepted, but unlike him and his friends, my coat was downstairs in the coat check. So I went to go get it.

Staffers in places like restaurants, clubs, and bars tend to learn the habits of their regular or semi-regular patrons. So it's no surprise that the coat check guy at The Cock knew something was up when I came downstairs for my coat before closing. You see, when I go to The Cock, I usually stay until the bitter end. So the coat check guy said to me, "You're leaving already?! Jokingly he continued, "No you're not. Get back upstairs."

I tried to be coy, and replied, "Well, I have things to do."

He then said, "Yeah, what's his name, and how big is it?"

Can you say, "BUSTED!"? I tried my best to play it off as if I wasn't that kind of guy. Meanwhile, I was laughing my ass off. Because let's get real here. If you're on my friends list on Facebook, then you've seen my Facebook updates where I've mentioned some of my adventures at The Cock, and have tagged the "The Cock" in those updates....Well evidently, so has he. For after my coy routine, that's when he dropped the knowledge bomb on me of how he's seen those updates on The Cock's Facebook page as well. 

So Lesson #1 of this post, kids:

If you don't want to get called on your shit, then don't go online and tell your shit.

Of course, I know this already, and live by it. So I wasn't mortified by the coat check guy calling me out. But I know there are many who would have been mortified. Whether it was their sexual reputation, or something else they wanted to be kept private. Also, I don't know why when someone tells me that they read my updates, I always get embarrassed. Yet if you tell me that you saw me in one of the studio-based porn films I was in, it rolls off my back like water off a duck's. Maybe it's because those Facebook updates are so close to being 100% the real me, which is awkward to hear reaction from when you're shy. Meanwhile, my studio-based porn is so partially the real me that it's nothing to fret over. 

And speaking of studio-based porn, I've stated in past posts how if I go to a sex party and top someone, because of the porn-induced fallacy of all Blacks being tops when with non-Blacks, that it had been awhile since I bottomed. And if I did, it was so short-lived that I wasn't able to really enjoy it. Well, I'm glad to say that this guy changed that. As this Facebook status that I posted the following night shows:

And it's true. I was jerking off like a fiend then I realized that I wasn't doing it because I wanted to. For I was satisfied by the sensation of this guy's cock inside me. Also, by laying on my back, and playing with his nipples, feeling his thighs, and touching his ass as he thrust into me. And by how when he came, I could feel his dick swell to pump more cum into the condom. So I was instead jerking off because I felt that it would reassure him that I enjoyed it. But the fact is there are times when I personally don't need to ejaculate, because I am pleased simply by the fact that to him my ass was so good that it brought him to orgasm.

As I was jerking off, probably because I had just got done with moderating my discussion about gay porn's influence on our sex lives the night before, I wondered why was I so eager to ejaculate when I really didn't need to. That's when I realized that porn was still being the bad influence that it is in too many gay sex lives. For to confirm what I suggested before, he actually was concerned about his sexual prowess with me because of his 2 ejaculating orgasms to my 0. When the truth is, as I reassured him that he had nothing to worry about.

So Lesson #2 of this post, which I'm just re-iterating and being more literate from a recent post:

Stop letting porn be your teacher of how to sexually interact with your partner(s). Let your partner's individuality be your first and foremost guide.

And considering how I was jerking off like a fiend unnecessarily, I am obviously still working on taking my own advice on that one.