Price of a Tight Ass

I recently went to the club, Paddles where HandsomeNYC was having their usual Wednesday night party. This particular night, they were having a cowboy-themed night.

Being as picky as I am, sometimes me playing at a sex party doesn't happen as soon as I walk in the door. This was such a case. It had been quite awhile into the party before I wound up in a hot and heavy make-out session with a Latino.

Somehow, in the midst of that make-out session getting more and more intense, my always-multi-tasking mind saw someone there I hadn't seen before.

He was a good-looking, tall, slim white guy. Some guys were going down on him. During that time however, he kept looking over at me. I found that unfair to the guys going down on him, so I tried to avoid eye contact. However, during any split second where me and my Latin playmate weren't fucking each other with our eyes, I did find myself driven to look over his shoulder, and check out the white guy.

Even though it was a mutual attraction, it was getting to my conscience because I believe that if you can't focus on your playmate/partner, then you shouldn't be with them. I guess it was telling me that my Latin playmate was not worth the time...because we ended our make-out session because after telling me that he was going to call it a night, he stayed just as long as I did,... Leaving with someone else.

But not to worry. Because what happened between the time the Latino left me and I actually wound up leaving as well?

When the make-out session between the Latino and I ended, I went to another area in the club. There the white guy was there getting blown again. I watched, and again, he kept looking at me. I tried to stay playing voyeur, but he then invited me to join him. And while he was getting sucked, he turned to kiss me. This made me feel a tad uncomfortable, but I am slowly coming to lessen my angst over how most gay males don't view sex (namely, blowjobs and fucking) the way I do. They compartmentalize guys where some are guys you just let suck, and other guys get to suck and fuck. With this guy, the tall Asian sucking him was the former, and I was the latter.

For soon after kissing him, the white guy directed me to his cock. It was huge. Making it quite obvious as to why all the guys were swarming him. I didn't suck him for very long before he pulled me back to my feet to kiss me passionately and say to me, "I wanna fuck you".

"And I want you to. So take it", I replied.

I laid down on the structure behind us while he put on a condom, and I put lube in and on my ass, then on his condom-wrapped cock. He thrusted a few times into me. The deeper he went in, the more his long dick began hitting that spot every long cock hits inside a bottom. That spot inside that guys who do poppers claim to use them to relax. When truth be told, it's all in your mind. I know because I did it myself. So once I relaxed that spot in myself, his cock went in even deeper. Unfortunately, a couple of thrusts after that, I heard this loud moan come from him, followed by these slight throbs of his cock, stretching my hole just a tad each time. I asked a question I was knew I was going to have a Love/Hate  relationship with if the answer was "Yes".

I asked him, "Did you cum?"

He replied, "Yeah, I did. Your ass is tight."

I could feel even though he had came, his dick was still hard, and pointed that out to him. He tried fucking me a little more, but I could feel him very slowly shrinking. Not to a point where he would be totally flaccid, but enough that he could not stay in my tight ass tunnel and thrust.

My tight hole from doing my Kegels once again milked a guy of all he had.

My Love/Hate relationship with a guy coming so soon after he enters you is because while it says your ass is well-maintained, which I LOVE; the HATE is due to how it also makes the sex over way before you're ready for it to be done. And unless your playmate is multi-orgasmic, guys like me run into this situation a lot. For most guys are not multi-orgasmic.

I could use poppers to open up my hole enough to make the sex last longer. But that's not going to happen. Because:

1) Poppers don't work on me. Well, at least not for the purpose many have been misled to believe. Because like I said, it's all in your mind. Every try of poppers has never made me relax my ass. During sex, I give my soul, body, and mind to the sex on my own, because I dedicate myself to the pleasure. The pleasure of myself and my sex partner. And I feel the breaks to huff disrupt the rhythm of the sex, and are therefore unfair to my partner. With that being the case, a chemical like poppers never succeeds in its intended purpose. It only gives me a headache. Which leads to;
2) Sex is like a music composition. Hence my poem titled "The Symphony of Sex". And as the sex progresses, your emotions gets heightened, much like what happens to us the further along a music composition we like is played. Well, imagine how it feels when your emotions are rising when a song you like is being played, then suddenly, the track is stopped. And when the track resumes playing, you have to get your emotions back to that spot before the music was stopped.
Well that's what poppers are like to sex. They interrupt the rhythm and rising emotions, then the user expects you to continue on like that break in rhythm ans rising emotions never happened.

Well, the point of the story is that like I view all of my sexual encounters, it's quality, not quantity that should motivate you. So I will say that while I didn't have a lot of sex that night, that one fuck was very brief, but fuckin' mind-blowing.

And I have my tight ass to thank for it.

Porn-Induced PTSD

The other day, I posted on Facebook about an incident that occurred the night before at The Cock's underwear party, Playpen, in which a guy from my past invaded my personal space. As I was writing about that incident, I realized that while being angry about someone invading your personal space is a natural and justified response, I saw myself get on the verge of violence. And it's not the 1st time that violent urge has occurred as an instantaneous response. Luckily for me, having outlets like my drawing and writing have been my therapy to hold the monster back.

This initial violent urge started after I retired from doing gay porn. Don't get me wrong. I have always been protective of my personal space, as everyone should be. However, my 1st response would be to instinctively yell at my violator. Much like a dog barks at a violator to warn them to not proceed with that violation, for an attack with violence will be the next action. The problem is after I retired from porn, I see now that my initial reaction to violations of my personal space has me having to force myself to do the instinctive yell. For my more instinctive initial reaction is to get violent to protect my personal space. Realizing that let me know something is wrong. So now I had to figure out what exactly is wrong.

What I have concluded is that it's some kind of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) brought on by my time in porn. And if you are a gay male, and this claim seems odd to you, then it's a hideous sign of how we as gay males are taught to have no boundaries for who we let touch our bodies, unless based on superficial credentials. Such as skin color and financial standing.

As gay males, we are led by many to allow any- and everybody to touch us. It started from the high number of gay youths who had to turn to prostitution after being thrown out of their homes by hypocritical Jesus freak parents/guardians. So it was a means of survival. For them. The problem now is that the chain of abuse has been put in play. For older gay males are prostitutes' primary clientele. So they teach the newly out gays that letting yourself be touched, no matter how disgusted you are by the person is how you survive. It's how you get ahead.

This is especially true in gay nightlife. Even more so if they're willing to tip. You are to let it be a stroke to your ego, because such appreciation for your beauty won't last forever. Well, I'm 45 and patrons still try stroking my ego - so so much for that theory.

Now, for those times that a patron is a cheap piece of shit who cops a feel without tipping, you're allowed your human nature to be annoyed by that patron feeling entitled to your body just because you're scantily clad. However, the desired reaction from you by most patrons, party promoters, and venue owners is to suck it up to avoid making a scene. And in the gay community, since the worlds of nightlife often lead to gay porn that set of rules follow. Rules that I myself allowed.

For when I was in porn, I would go out and be a lot more permissive of guys touching me, even if I didn't want them to. It was a means to sell a love for the porn persona.

Now, with me no longer needing to sell that image, my body is 100% MINE. I can be out and about in my undies or naked at an underwear or nude party, and feel no obligation to be touched if I don't want to. And my being in my underwear or naked entitles no one to put their hands on my body without an invitation from me via eye contact or verbal means.

I've long realized that the porn industry as a whole gives a false sense to performers that they own their own bodies. Unfortunately, the fact is it's the studio you're an exclusive for that owns your body. If you're not a studio exclusive, like I never was, then that ownership of your body is being passed along like a baton in a relay race. So regardless as to whether you are a studio exclusive or not, your body is never yours. And it will never be yours again until you leave the industry. This realization is what gave birth to my poem, "Boss of My Body".


This aftermath of being in porn further proves why I'm right to advise guys to not get in it. It's an ongoing process of no longer living that life. Maybe I would have less of these conflicts with guys invading my personal space if I wasn't an exhibitionist. However, that doesn't diminish the fact that I have a right to be an exhibitionist in an allowing space. It doesn't diminish the fact that "No" means NO the 1st time. Nor does it exonerate the guys who invade my personal space from deserving shame for their blatant social ineptitude that makes them disregard my saying "NO".

Violence as punishment is something I hope to continue to avoid. I have used various art forms as therapy to avoid it thus far, and I plan on continuing to do so.

With that said, I do feel for those past and present in the porn industry who are suffering from that stress, or will be in the future. For the lights of their porn-stardom will fade on them at some point. Either by their own choice, and/or by an undesired exile by the industry's ongoing desire to prey upon the desperation for validation and naivete in newer and younger models. Thereby, kicking out who they feel is old and overexposed.

So I wonder, will they mature as I have? Will they realize that there is a problem? If so, do they have the means to get those feelings out like I do? Or will it eat them up inside, and cause them to act out? Or will they do as most (if not all) present porn directors who used to be porn actors?...Start their own porn company with the same rules they were taught, thereby leading the chain of porn-induced PTSD to continue.

For some, these questions have already been answered. For others, all we can do is wait, and hope for the best. Unfortunately, as long as the industry continues to endorse prostitutes and gay-for-pay bitches in denial before exhibitionists, it's sad to say that we must expect the worst, while hoping for the best.

Why This Horny Boy Fights The Joy of Weed

I've experimented with many drugs in my time. Always looking to find what's the draw. Marijuana is no exception. In fact, I know the draw of marijuana for me if I was to do it on the regular. Hence why I hardly do it ever. That reason being that it makes me greedy for 2 things I love the taste of ---- FOOD & SEX.
FOOD - I ♥ food. And UNlaced marijuana gives me the munchies like it's always been known to. So considering that I'm always open to trying new foods, or eager to try a favorite food when it's made by someone else, then marijuana would have me eating everything in my path. This runs the risk of making my slim fit physique disappear in no time. So with my cherishing of my energy and flexibility at my age, I can't put that at risk, and still proclaim and try to encourage self-love the way I do. For it would make me one of the things that I hate most,...A HYPOCRITE.
SEX - Now, after reading this, some of my fuck-buddies who smoke weed are going to trying to get me high as a kite. Because good pure marijuana does relax you. It makes you eager to relax into whatever you're enjoying. With that said, what kind of effect would you suspect that marijuana has on me? Especially when it comes to sex, which I enjoy immensely.

Well, keep in mind how I'm versatile. However, the relaxation effect of marijuana makes me have less of a desire to be a top. I'll still get a raging, topping-ready hard-on because I'll always have a craving to have my cock stimulated. I just won't want to use it to do any topping. Instead, I just want to lay back and enjoy the sex. However, I've always said that when I bottom, good dick makes me quickly morph into a power bottom. But marijuana doesn't only make my stomach want to be fed. It also makes my ass want to be fed ---- To the point that while I'm verbal during sex, in a way that I can well-verbalize my joy and desires to go further, Pot makes me overact and sound like your typical white American porn actor. So my usual verbal skill of being descriptive in saying how much I love my top's cock is still there, but it takes a backseat to the overdoing of moans and groans. So marijuana makes me go from being totally versatile to an overacting versatile super power bottom.

Now, all of that noise is probably a major ego stroke during sex to my sex partner. Especially, if he happens to be a pothead. Let's take what I said at the start of this section about how my fuck buddies who smoke marijuana are going to try to get me high as a kite after reading this. Well, I didn't mention the former fuck-buddies who became "former" by us simply losing touch. With them, I won't be surprised if the ones who smoke weed start coming out of nowhere wanting a Cannabis Bliss Reunion.

So now you see why I don't smoke pot. With food, I don't want to become overweight. In regards to sex, I love and respect sex. So because of that respect, I need my brain clear so I can honestly critique both my partner's and myself's part in sex. By loving sex without my mind being altered.

Not even by a natural substance like cannabis.