Sex Is..., Not...

At Titillating Tongues last Friday night, while I titillated the crowd with the sexy lyrics of "Be My Pillow", I led in with the preceding more serious poem. For I felt someone needed to address how the gift of sex should be treated, but by too many actions and so-called occupations (some based on communities & cultures), the gift of sex is actually mistreated. This in turn leads to unhealthy expectations in our sexual relationships, regardless of whether or not those sexual relationships are casual or long-term.

With that said, it should be no surprise based on my recent events and writings that I consider gay media's green-lighting of male prostitution and the low self-esteem shown in porn scenes as major influences as to why this issue needed to be addressed. And as you can see, I even point to the excessive domination and submission in the leather scene (shown by my participation in the movie, "B.L.A.K. (Bruthas Live And Kinky)") and being flogged (which I was at last year's Folsom Street East) to be examples of this problem. Showing myself participating in these things makes it clear that I have not been a saint in contributing to this problem. Even though I had misgivings about such sexual behaviors before those experiments. So I am hoping that this poem brings me a step closer to redemption in this matter.

Erotic Poetry Video - Be My Pillow

I am an ass-man.

To the point that I'll dismiss a guy for having no ass long before dismissing him for having a small dick. So imagine my surprise when after a Twitter exchange with a follower with an amazing ass (outside and in), that I realized I had never used my skills at erotic poetry to pay ode to this body part. A body part that can draw me to a guy quicker than a moth to a flame.

If you are a friend of mine and/or like this blog on Facebook, or follow me on Twitter, then you have often read comments from me about a hot guy's ass saying how I wish they could make a pillow out of their ass. So it was easy to entitle this poem,

Be My Pillow.

Erotic Poem - Be My Pillow brought to you by PornHub

It's true. With all the money wasted on stupid, major delusion-inducing, phony-feeling "real-feel" sex toys and novelties on the market, it's funny that we have yet to see such an erotic novelty on the market. Now, watch someone steal this idea of mine and make millions that should be mine. 

Party Review: $2 Tuesdays @ The Cock

You never know why some parties have their last night of last call. Big Gulp at The Cock was one of those parties. For a Tuesday night, that party got the place pretty packed. Well that was then, and this is now, with David Serrano back promoting a new party there on Tuesday nights. It's called "$2 Tuesdays", where a $10 cover gets $2 well and domestic drinks.

I ventured to $2 Tuesdays this past Tuesday. The music by DJ Evan Christian definitely helped to put me in a fun mood. So it wasn't hard for anyone to coerce me to do what I did later on,....which was strip down to my underwear. And might I add guys were not being rudely assumptive groping me just because I was in my underwear. They were admiring me in them, but they weren't rude touching me without a welcome by me.

Now, a night at The Cock is not complete without go-go boys as eye candy. And there were 2. One I was also glad to see was Black. This is "must report" info for sadly in NYC, finding a Black go-go boy in a bar/club on a night that's not specifically a Blatino night is almost like finding a unicorn. And if you do, he usually looks on the verge of roid-rage perpetuating the Mandingo image. Well, with his tall and slim physique, I must additionally and happily report that this guy was not such a case. Hence furthering my need to report this finding.

The other go-go boy was a cutie with a great ass, and being the ass-man that I am, you know I was enjoying the view from below. But I am kicking myself though. For I saw it again when he came off the bar, and offered me a lap dance. What stopped me was me getting so engulfed in a conversation with a couple of patrons that I never got to take him up on it. Maybe next time.

Since we are talking about The Cock, another must to make it a fun night (at least for The Cock) is some backroom action? Yes, there was some action to witness,...but it wasn't in the backroom area. It seemed to all be happening in the bathroom. Let me say that if I do play in a bar, the bathroom is by no means my favorite spot. However, being in my undies did make me a target for seduction by some good-looking guys, so I caved....this time.

If you didn't know before, you now know that when I go to a bar/club, I explore and make myself privy to every available adventure the party has to offer, even if I don't partake of it all. So with that being said for this party review, will I be back?

I think the answer to the million dollar question is YES.

For it was not the huge crowd that I recall at Big Gulp, BUT keep in mind that it's been a few weeks since Big Gulp ended, and this was only the 2nd week of $2 Tuesdays. So I say, especially with the warmer weather, it's time for that crowd to come back.

The Underwear Expert's Rookie of the Week - LeNair Xavier

I recently submitted some pics through the UnderwearExpert.com's Model Search Tumblr blog, and I have become this week's Rookie of the Week. See their blog posting at:

http://www.underwearexpert.com/2013/05/rookie-of-the-week-lenair-xavier/

Though it's not a modeling campaign, in light of points I made in "Black Guys Wear Underwear, Too!" this means a lot to me. For it's a start in combating not 1, 2, but 3 things:

1)The inexcusable lack of Black underwear models by the modeling world;

2)When Black models are used, they are practically always 6' or more and obvious gym-bodies, meanwhile White and light-complexioned Latino models can come in more of a variety of both heights and degrees of fit physiques. Meaning there's an unfair higher expectation of body maintenance made for Blacks if they want to be featured. So imagine my gladness in this title with me being only 5'6", about 140 lbs., with no gym regimen. Lastly,

3) Gay media rarely taking pride in any well-maintained gay males over 30. And even less if you're over 40, which I am after turning 42 on March 31st.

So I hope this brief title in some way inspires others to take care of themselves, and no matter what the media says, never quit showing how your color gives you a beauty worthy of acknowledgment.

No Rentboy & Some Body Rain

Unlike in the straight community, in the gay male community, male prostitutes, or the sugar-coated word for them, “escorts” are put up on a phony pedestal so their usually old gay johns can stroke the their egos. And I’m sure you can understand, that by stroking a hooker’s ego, it is a lot easier to have them at your beck and call. Especially when it’s a male hooker’s ego. It’s now to the point that besides ads in the back of gay nightlife magazines, for these guys, there’s the party, HustlaBall, and now The Hookie Awards. Both highly publicized in gay media, which makes the gay community seem extremely dysfunctional. So I hope me showing that I’m against this behavior shows that we all are not so fucked up in the head.

Most gay porn actors today are more prostitutes, and less exhibitionists, while with my gay porn past, I was and still am an exhibitionist, never a prostitute. But I do admit to some rare prostituting moments in front of the camera, and I was very briefly involved with a prostitute. So I know what I’m talking about in using this poem to tell how these guys are by no means dateable, even when they try to date a fellow escort.

Of course my many gay readers know that one of the many synonyms for male prostitutes is “rentboy”. Which is why the title of the poem was “No Joy With A Rentboy”.

This was not an easy poem to write, or present publicly as I did in the above video. For I do know some guys who escort, and it pains me to know that by living this life, they are greatly lessening their chance to find that special someone many of them hope to find. Even lesser chance than me because of with my sexual openness. For I may be sexually open and liberated, but it's a big difference when you make your sex for sale. Also, with Titillating Tongues being an event open to all orientations, I'm sure some may feel that what I said in my intro of "No Joy With A Rentboy" made the gay community look bad to the straight people in the room. But the fact is I didn't start the putting of male prostitutes on a pedestal. Gay media (some of whom are probably their clients) did. And its followers followed. All I did in my intro was expose that fact.

The 2nd poem entitled, "Body Rain" is a term you may have seen me use before within a poem. It's a term I used to describe sweat from sex/lovemaking. However, this is the 1st time I've written something focusing solely on that subject. For my reading that night, I felt it was a good contrast in my personality. Showing that if I need to address a matter I will, but I also have a romantic side that can find the most simple things in nature sexy.

With that said, I hope you enjoyed the poems. Also, if you're in NYC on the 3rd Friday of the month, that you will come see me at the next Titillating Tongues should I announce presenting material there.

Seeing Me Before I - the backstory

Jim Koury, The editor of the magazine Diversity Rules recently approached me about featuring a poem of mine. Diversity Rules didn't really include poetry, but Jim said that he's been admiring my poetry lately, and that he wanted to try something new with the magazine, along with it recently going back into print edition. So I'm honored to be considered part of this change.

Now, as for the backstory of the poem of mine they featured....

Some time around 1995, a few years before 9/11, also a few years before me coming to terms with my sexual orientation, I used to work at The New York Mercantile Exchange, which at the time was located in 4 World Trade Center. In order to get on the trading floor, you had to have an ID tag, and there was a security guard always stationed at the entry to make sure you had one. 

The security guards changed over time, but one will always stay in my mind. He wasn't that tall, had buzz-cut blond hair, and beautiful light eyes. When I would go on and off the trading floor, he would always say little things to me. Even though the things he said seemed innocent enough, since I didn't see him do it much to others, I began to get the vibe that he was flirting with me. 

The most defining moment to raise my antennas was on what was called "Dress Down Friday" where we were allowed to wear jeans and t-shirts, instead of the usual button-down shirt and slacks. At the time, I was a fan of the pop/rock band, INXS, so I had one of their t-shirts on. As I was walking back onto the trading floor, this security guard whispered the group's name as I walked by. Even though I was socially inept, I was sexually aware enough to know that group's name, INXS, said in a whisper to anyone is a sign that you're being courted. And even more of a sign was when I looked back after passing by him, he was looking back at me ----with a grin. 

Every time I looked into those light eyes of his, I was hoping some situation would come about to make it be that me and him would end up alone. And in that moment alone, he would try to make a move on me, and confirm not just my suspicions of his flirtations, but also that about my degree of being gay because deep inside I knew I wouldn't fight it. I have had instances of passing him in the hallways or running into him in the bathroom, but there was always at least one other guy there, and that at least one guy was always uber-straight. So there goes the bathroom fantasy becoming reality of us playing a game of "You Show Me Yours, And I'll Show You Mine", and/or us slipping into a stall and me positioning myself to be fucked like a savage. And yes, even back then I always knew that if I was to be gay that I would eventually be versatile as I am now, but I also always knew that come my 1st time, I would be a bottom.   

Between my being in denial of my orientation and my being socially inept, I wasn't sure if my suspicions of him being flirtatious were correct. So I asked of all people, my Mom. Whether you are one of my most loyal readers or new, learning that my mother is quite religious might surprise you as to why I would go to her to confirm or refute my suspicions. It's because since puberty, she has always made me aware of the fact that I had a look that many gay or bi-curious men willing to experiment would be drawn to. So knowing I'd get such honesty, and me having almost no friends, my Mom was about the only person I felt I could tell my suspicions to. And as it turned out, I'm sure much to her chagrin, she confirmed my suspicions. 

You know how they say "you never forget your first". Well, he wasn't the first guy to do such flirting, nor was he was the 1st that I wanted intensely in return. But he was the 1st to have eyes that I felt saw right through me. 

I was often scared to look into his light eyes because they were like glass. When the truth is, if anything or anyone was made of glass here, it was me. With his light eyes actually being mirrors for me to see my being a 5'6" tower of glass making a feeble attempt to hide the gay man inside. Because also as they say, "it takes one to know one". So if he was gay, there was no hiding of myself from him.

So this poem comes from me saying my "shoulda, coulda, woulda's" as I remember him . Him, who back in 1995 saw me before I finally saw and began loving myself on February 9, 2002 - the night I came out to myself going into February 10, 2002 - the night I lost my virginity.

Normally, this is the point where I post the poem. My most loyal readers know that is what I did the last time I posted this story. But since I believe so much in this magazine's mission, I took the poem out as a way to urge you readers (old and new) to get the whole magazine.

So I hope you will get the digital version, or help bring print magazines back by getting your copy HERE.
Thank you.