PROOF I Don't Owe You A Feel Or Fuck

To close out my weekend, I went to the ManMeat (formerly known as Milk Chocolate NYC) after-hours sex party. It seemed that the Black guys there were wondering why I wouldn't play with them. Well, I already had reasons that pushed me to write "Black Guys, I Don't Owe You A Feel OR A Fuck!". And unfortunately, there were other "fine" specimens who were stupid enough to find my lack of interest hard to believe by confirming what I wrote with actions that cemented my views.

1)When you check your clothes, check your fuckin' hat, too! So many Black guys follow this that they all look the same in that dim light. And you can easily tell that it's a "Black thing". For if you take all of these ethnicities there, and how many of them are wearing caps, the percentage of Black guys is the highest by a very large margin. This may be a personal peeve for me. For I'm a common sense person, and I know that small as a cap may be, it can limit how much you can do with a playmate without having to worry about it falling off, getting in the way. But why are they wearing it in the first place? Some do it just because. But with so many in one ethnic group doing it, you can't help to surmise that it's a cultural thing. My feeling is why wear a symbol of a culture that's going to get in the way of your fun. Like I said, I'm a common sense guy, so I know I'm Black, the place is dimly lit, I'm not the only Black guy in the room, and that a cap takes away from your individual body outline. Therefore, if I go walking around with my hat on as a Black culture symbol, and others do the same, I can't easily be told apart from anyone else. And I pride myself on my individuality.

2)One Black guy was wearing not one, but TWO pairs of underwear. Yes, you read correct. TWO PAIRS OF UNDERWEAR SIMULTANEOUSLY. One of them sagging. Are you fuckin' shitting me? Call me "cocky" all you want. But do you really think I'm going to give my body to some stupid ghetto trash nigger who even at a sex party can't give the ghetto trash nigger concept of "sagging" a break?! And he looks at me weird when I back away from him, or move his hand. This made me so close to screaming, "Mother fucka, you look like you just stepped out another cheap ass ethnic porn video! Which makes you ghetto trash, which makes me too good for you! Stop following that stupidity, then maybe your chocolate stick can meet and fill my chocolate hole. For your individuality brings you further up to my level. But right now, your heart, your mind, your soul, and your dick are all too small. Thank you!"

3)It's been awhile since I bottomed. So I was so glad to finally come across someone who wanted to top me, and lay some pipe in my ass. It just happened to be a fit White guy. Maybe it was my hunger for cock in my hole, but as far as I'm concerned, he gave me the fuck of my life. And he could have gave it to me for hours. And this was just a quick Round One.
After that Round One however, there was this one muscular Black guy with dreadlocks who is known for having a big dick who wanted a go after the White guy. I never even saw his dick. I only knew it was him by the reaction of other guys he topped prior, and his joyful "Yeah"'s for hurting a bottom upon entry. Not asking my permission. He just went gunning for me as if it's my job to stay with my back arched and comply. For that reason alone, he was a TOTAL TURN-OFF to me. And don't think your big dick intimidates me. The fact that I've been double-penetrated should be proof of how it doesn't. But his ego...DISGUSTS ME!
He epitomizes EVERYTHING I hate about the images of Black guys put out in gay porn. From his no-ass having gym-body to his overcompensating ego and sense of entitlement because of this big dick. So much so, that he had the fuck-faced audacity to act like I'm the one with an attitude problem when I moved away from him. Well, he needs to cash this reality check, and if you know him (or someone like him), pass these words on to him:

You having a big dick, doesn't mean that every one who bottoms is to be at your beck and call. For not every one is dumb enough to be a size queen. So in addition to having a big dick, thinking we should be at your beck and call makes you A big dick. Thank you!

After instances such as these, you can't possibly think that what I said in "Black Guys, I Don't Owe You A Feel, OR A Fuck!" was me exaggerating. Unless, you are low enough in self-esteem to comply to them, Black guy doing this behavior, or a nigger shit bitch non-Black who imitates it. So let me close with reminding those of my brothers who happen to be Black like me that we as a whole need to better present ourselves in the gay community, and society overall. And that includes at a sex party. Because this behavior is not cutting it.

Hustlaball For Hustla's Fall

I will admit that there was a time I had enough issues with Hustlaball because of its racist performance roster that I had my own personal boycott of the event. Now while that racism is somewhat fading, some will try to say that I'm never satisfied. For I still have an issue with hearing that event's name. In fact, I think I always have. I just repressed my loathing.

You see, while I was in the porn industry, I tried to not be judgemental of escorts. Even though I was fully aware in my mind that their existence in the industry was lessening the beauty of the sex we see in porn movies. Once I decided to say the truth not only in my head, but also aloud, that's when I decided to leave the porn industry, and become publicly vocal about the ugliness of prostitution, or its sugar-coated word, "escorting".

This of course has led the naive that still surround themselves with these people to feel that I have (as someone once said to me) "been on a high horse" since my leaving the industry. Well, if I'm on a high horse for deciding to not surround myself with a bunch of people who are doomed for dead-end lives by dedicating themselves to having dead-eyed sex,...then I will make sure that since you're so low down that my high horse dumps its shit on you. As my way of saying goodbye before I ride off to a destiny worthy of my intellect.

So this post is calling out myself. Not for hypocrisy. But on my long-overdue maturity. How my eyes have been opened as to how Hustlaball still should be boycotted. If not for racism, as I'm sure it still perpetuates the "Black guys as overly aggressive tops" belief, then simply for its praise of prostitution. For it still teaches our young gay males that drugs, alcohol, and prostitution are the way to acceptance by your fellow gay male. Leaving out the truth of how many old guys are not trapped in that world, which I'm sure very well contributed to the drug addictions, depression, then suicides that have killed some porn actors in the past, present, and future.

Anyone in the business that tries to tell you my claim is false is doing what many in that world do ---live in denial. For while I was in the industry, I've seen many performers do drugs before and/or after a show. Plus, the event is called "Hustlaball" for a reason. It's a gathering of hustlers a.k.a. prostitutes a.k.a. hookers a.k.a. whores. Which is why my most loyal readers may recall how I once got propositioned at Hustlaball by a patron,...while I was a patron myself.

Now, if you want to go to this event, that's on you. This post is just letting you know the self-destructive escapist world you are contributing your money to. If you can live with that, have at it.

LeNair Xavier - Pleasure Chest....Salesperson?

I've mentioned a few times on Facebook and Twitter that I recently became a part-time Shipping/Receiving Clerk at the new Upper East Side location for The Pleasure Chest. 

Part of why I opted to be in Shipping/Receiving is because those of you who have met me in person might have realized, I'm actually quite shy. With my shyness not seeming to fade until my Aries passion for something gets fired up. Of course it's quite obvious though that I do have a passion for sex, and making sure everyone is truly happy and sane on their sexual journey. For I feel a great many woes across the globe could be eradicated if that sexual stress wasn't so prevalent in our lives. Thinking this is what partly inspired my poem, "Sex In Unison".

Anyway, last Saturday, this passion got put to the test. Because for a moment, I became a salesperson.

A guy walked into to the store, and it was all female salespeople staffing the floor. Due to his interest, the customer told the salesperson who initially approached him that he felt more comfortable talking to a male. And since I just happened to be on the floor at the time, the saleperson asked me to assist the customer.

Not a spoiler to the end of the story, but the end result was that I didn't make a sale. At least not that day. For he did say he would be back. Because with the variety of things I showed him for what he wanted, including much cheaper (but also satisfying) alternatives, what he decided on cost more than he was willing to spend that day. So it turns out that just as I can do via this blog, I did point him in the direction of what he wanted.

Even without making a sale however, I actually enjoyed talking to this gentleman. Asking him his desired goal, giving him options, and giving my viewpoint when asked - the key point in the work of a salesperson. With all that considered, should I consider offering myself to also do sales? For I like the labor of Shipping/Receiving, but I did like the interacting from sales. Hmmmm.