My Sex Drive At Hard Drive

This past Wednesday, I went to the sex party, Hard Drive held at the sex club, Paddles. It's been a good while since I went to a sex party. Mainly due to the fact that the Milk Chocolate NYC and Cum Union parties have lately been held at the party space I was banned from.

My action started early on after I got undressed and joined the party. I went to the back area where in the few times I've been there, most action seems to happen. And it turned out being that night was no different. Soon as I got back there, I saw this short Latino. He was totally naked with a nice round ass. I grazed his skin as he walked pass, and it made him take a look at me. He turned around, went straight for grabbing my cock. He began stroking it while my hands couldn't decide on whether to focus on his front or his back. For not only did he have a great ass, but he also was fit with a nice-sized dick as well. Even if his dick was small, if he showed himself to be a top, I would have bottomed for him. But I took his focus on my cock to mean that he was a bottom, so I lessened my playing with his chest, flat stomach, and nice uncut dick, and instead focused on the ass that I was getting more and more eager to enter. Hence why I equaled my focus on tickling his hole just much as massaging his soft and smooth ass cheeks. He then positioned himself in front of me, and put my dick to his ass. Now there was no doubt he wanted to bottom for me. So I dressed up his ass and my cock. I slid my dick into his ass and started fucking away.

I'm still not as confident of my sexual prowess as a top being as great as my being a bottom, but his moans were making me think I was just as good at both. Because this guy moaned so much that a crowd starting forming.

After my 1st ritual post-fuck wash of the night, I went upstairs. Hard Drive had as a featured guest that night---- Treasure Island Media exclusive Christian. Unlike some I'm sure, he wasn't the reason for my attending Hard Drive that night, but it was a good plus to keep me around. Especially since later on, he became Bottom #4 for me. But before him, there were Bottoms #s 2 and 3.

A tall, slim guy came upstairs, and he slowly made his way over to me. We started making out, stroking cocks, groping asses, and going down on each other. All this eventually led to him offering his ass for me to fuck. So he became Bottom #2. Briefly though, because the crowd around became too much for both of us. To the point that we couldn't just stop, and go somewhere else. Instead, we actually needed to walk around to get some air.

This led me back downstairs to the back area again. There was a guy being sucked off. I was standing there watching, and this short Asian with an amazing bubble-butt was standing with his back to me not too far away. He slowly made his way back towards me, and got in on the sucking action. And since he was so close, I grazed his skin. He turned his head just enough to see me, and moved more into my hand. So I started groping his ass. And the more I groped his ass, the more he leaned into it while simultaneously grabbing my cock to make it rock hard, which it quickly became without a doubt. Once rock hard, he wanted it. So he asked me to dress up his ass and my dick, and in I went making him Bottom #3. I couldn't help but start with passionate pounding because of those big round soft mounds on this little body. And it turned out he was like the Latino. Not only cute. Not only short. But also loud. I only fucked him for a couple of minutes for since I was standing in the middle of a crowd, I wasn't in the most comfortable position. Even though his ass did put me on the verge of cumming, if I come from fucking you, I want us very comfortable. My exhibitionist spirit being satisfied isn't enough. So I stopped, and though I do my post-fuck wash even after wearing a condom, I sensed some hot action was still going on, so I went to go check it out instead.

A couple of guys were in the corner fooling around with Christian. I got close enough to be near him. When he turned, and saw my hardening cock, he grabbed it, then started sucking my dick. One guy was going to fuck him, but couldn't. So since Christian pretty much prepped me to be next by sucking off (which considering how hesitant I am about getting blowjob, I must say he was damn good), he took hold of my dick, and put it in his ass. I was shocked by his eagerness to get fucked by me. For based on my seeing his online profile, he's a bit of a size-queen. But since he did put my cock in his ass, I took advantage, and pounded away.

Not just because of my porn past, but I'm sensible enough to know there is really no reason to be in awe of fucking a pornstar. For they're human just like the rest of us, but with a more exhibitionist spirit. However in this case, with his name plus my reputation for honesty, his ass inspiring this tweet once I got home makes for good testimonial:

And as you can see, my tweet didn't lie. the Hard Drive party was HOT.....And it was getting HOTTER.

For later I went upstairs, and I ran into the bubble-butt Asian again. Soon as he saw me, he went over to one of the chairs, and assumed the position. 

Now, because of his eagerness for 2nds, I was really on the verge of getting a swollen head. And I don't just mean the head of my dick. So I once again, dressed up his ass and my dick, and pounded away. I had wrapped my underwear around my shoulder, but my fast thrusts in that juicy ass kept making them slide off. So I threw them off to the nearby dark corner under some chairs. And since the underwear were dark brown, they blended in so no one with an underwear fetish could see and steal them, plus they were in eye-shot of me anyway.

Anyway, another guy came around while I was fucking him. While I was fucking his ass, the Asian started sucking the guy's cock. That actually helped to muffle the Asian's loud moans that could have otherwise spread throughout the club. Due to the fact that the upstairs area is an open area where you can look out to the big lobby of the club, and we were right by that very railing. This time, I did fuck him longer. But once I stopped, the Asian breathed out a sigh of exhaustion saying, "Oh wow! Oh my god!"

The way he had my dick pulsating from that sweet ass of his, I 2nd those emotions.

Afterwards, I went back downstairs. And watched as things progressed to where this bald White guy was fucking this short White guy with a little mohawk. As I got closer to the action, the bald guy reached for my dick while he was fucking the one with the mohawk from behind. After they were done, the bald guy came to me. Since my 1st sight of him was him fucking the guy with the mohawk, I had no idea how big his dick was. But now I knew. While he was just a tad bit taller than me, his cock was thick as fuck.

This always seems to happen to me. I go to a sex party. If I bottom all night, I get a variety of cock sizes. But if I top all night, once I finally bottom, the guy topping me has a dick that is long and/or thick as hell. You know they say "be careful what you wish for". And after all the topping I was doing, I was craving to have someone lay some pipe in my ass. So I think this was Fate's way of saying, "You want to get fucked. Okay LeNair. Now, you're going to get FUCKED!!!!"

So the bald guy started fucked me missionary on this table, but it wasn't working for him. So I took him over to the corner, got into doggy-style position, and he banged the hell out of me. A lot longer than he did the guy with the mohawk. At times, I was tightening my sphincter as if I was trying to milk him of his load. Not because I wanted him to stop, because I didn't. I was just adding to the sensation of his hard cock sliding back and forth inside me. And you could tell it worked because of all the moans that sounded like he was getting to the point of no return. But even with all those moans, he never came.

Not too long after, I walked around a little, then came back to that area where a tall Black guy was sucking off the bald guy trying to make him come. I have no idea if he did, but I finally did watching. For I saw all of the bald guy that I could not see while he was fucked me. Like his tightening ass cheeks, and his sweat drenching his head, back, and ass.

After all this, with the party dying down, I went home. And I gave myself a well-earned rest.

During my train rides home after these escapades, I always wonder how written on my face and body language is the glow of sexual satisfaction. Can these people tell that I've been fucking like a rabbit? Well, if they can tell, then I'm sure they were wanting to know where I've been.

Me and Titillating Tongues

I was recently invited to be a featured performer at an erotica salon called "Titillating Tongues" held in the Huron Club inside the SoHo Playhouse. While I quickly accepted, and before I give you an idea of what I am planning for my allotted 10 minutes, there is a great story about what was going on when I received this invitation. For it almost made me miss this great opportunity.

By way of a Facebook update, I was venting about the massive flaws of gay media in which (to no surprise to my Facebook friends) I tagged various gay media sources to blame - Next Magazine being one of them. The next day, I got a reply comment from someone from Next Magazine making false accusations about my part in past magazines and blogs, leading him to call me a "hypocrite". Now, I'm not going to rehash all that was said between me and this person for it would ruin this great story, plus he's not worth such detailed time - not even revealing his name. However, I will say that I responded with a verbal attack that made him back off. But before him being a chicken shit and blocking me, he said to me, "...That's why no one listens to you..."

Really? No one listens to me?

Well, in the midst of my reading this guy's original comment, I got an email on Facebook. I took my time getting to reading the email, and almost completely ignored it because I thought that since it came so soon after the comment from this guy from Next Magazine that it was him saying something to me that he knew (1)subconsciously would make him look worse if the public saw it, and (2)it was going to make me go "Bed-Stuy ghetto" and verbally cut a bitch, which I publicly did anyway because of his comment.

It turns out I was for once WRONG...on both counts!

It turned out being that my apprehension was all for nothing. In fact, I should have opened the email before addressing the schmuck from Next Magazine. For the email was from Aimee Herman, a poet who hosts a monthly erotica salon called "Titillating Tongues" at the SoHo Playhouse's Huron Club. She was inviting me to be a featured performer for one of their upcoming shows.

Well, I do believe that this proves to that guy, everyone else from those other superficial gay media sources, and their followers that there are people listening to me. Granted, it's about the enticing way I talk about sex, but if I'm that good a writer on the inner-workings of the natural act of sex to gain attention, then I feel my possibilities of more recognition and praise from those with a real purpose are endless.

The date I decided on is May 22nd. As for what to expect of my performance, I like challenging myself and doing something different. So I decided to do write a sexy a capella song entitled "Spoons In The Dark", which will be an intro to a burlesque performance of "Come To Me" by JC Chasez.


Well, because of my YouTube videos, you may have heard me sing, and sing what I've written, but never live. And in other videos, you've seen me dance, but you've never seen me do a striptease. So I am promising you an interesting night for my participation. Plus, it's open-mic afterwards, which leaves room for other erotically talented performers to be showcased , besides those of the featured performers like I will be. So I hope you'll come by to have the good time I'm sure you'll have. Which is why I will most definitely keep you posted on details such as regarding purchasing tickets.

Thanks for your continued support. :-)

Profane Names Break Good Chains

I recently had a falling out with a photographer that I was planning to have a shoot with this past Thursday night. The falling out was over ---a text message. And it has already been written how I'm not a fan of text messaging in my romantic relationship. So you know I'm am not happy if it interferes with my platonic and business relationships.

This photographer, whether it's an IM on Facebook or a text message on my cell phone, always hits me up with a message saying, "Hey".
Then I end up having to reply, "What's is it?"
Then he replies, "What's up?"

Are you seeing how this gets fuckin' annoying real fast?! Especially when he texts you first? Hence why I reply, "You texted me, so what is it?"

You know when a method someone has of doing things that you find a bit annoying in your mind, but once you say it out loud to someone, the reality becomes clear that annoyance needs to be stopped by being addressed? Well, that's what happened with this photographer's game of "Text Tag". I was over at Mom's house, chatting with her before Sunday dinner, and when he texted me a message of "Hey", I voiced my annoyance of this routine to my Mom.

Now people need to stop being selfish and look at the big picture of situations. In this case, maybe I can't afford a wasted text message because:
1) not everyone's cell phone plan has unlimited text messaging;
2) my phone battery could be dying with no way to recharge it; or
3) maybe I'm in the middle of something and I don't have the time to do a back and forth of text messaging.

And #3 has happened on many occasions with him doing this. I would be in the middle of working. And the game of "Text Tag" begins. Then I try going back to whatever work I'm doing, but I can't fully concentrate because I got this immature on the other end wanting to play "Text Tag", and because of whatever business we're in the midst of discussing, I'm subconsciously anticipating his response.

This past Tuesday, I was walking through the street after running errands when I got his message saying "Hey" as I was about to head into the train station to finally go home. So instead of replying with the usually "What", I finally decided to address my annoyance with his routine by texting to him these exact words:
Whatever you have to say, say it in your first message. You're wasting my text messages. Thanks.

If I'm correct, that's not being harsh. Well, the message I got from him in return was:
I was going to ask you about thursday night but IF you are going to be a dick forget it

I replied:
I'm not being a dick. You are. Not to mention extremely immature and unprofessional.

And that is the exact spelling and grammar of the text messages. As you can see, I try to have perfect spelling and grammar even in the 160 characters of a standard text message.

Now, was I wrong? Was he not being immature to throw such a fit over my kindly advising him to not waste a text message? And besides him touching himself during my photoshoots with other models, was he again showing unprofessional behavior by his method of getting my attention to discuss business via a text message, and call me a profanity when politely corrected on it?

And that is what pissed me off most about his message was that one word --- "dick".

While I love having my own dick, playing with dick, sucking on dick, and being fucked in my ass with dick, this guy was supposed to be a friend of mine. And I don't care how angry you get with me, or I get with you, unless we want whatever kind of relationship we have to come to a definite end, ...neither one of us are to call the other a profanity (like "dick") EVER!!!

So did it hurt me? No. It ENRAGED ME.

I long ago came to the point where I allowed no human to hurt me. A human can anger me, disappoint me, or anger me because of disappointing me. But only God has the power to hurt me. Because when someone hurts you, that person has been given the power to break your spirit. And even though he was a friend, he did not break my spirit. He just disappointed me, and that brought forth the rage.

A rage that made me in no hurry of smoothing things over. Instead, I immediately texted the other model I had planned to do the shoot with and cancelled. The other model initially wanted to know if I was just rescheduling or totally cancelling the shoot. I told him I was cancelling the shoot. If it was to be rescheduled, then it would be with another photographer. The photographer sent me 2 more text messages that based on the 1st few words I saw of them, the other model got in touch with him, and told him what I said. I never read the entire messages, but I felt one of us had to be the adult. So I replied:

Someone must be the adult here, and I'm letting it be me by not entertaining your tantrums.

The reason I'm telling this story is because we seem to live in a time when people don't know the boundaries of what not to say to a person you consider a friend, lover, or family member, etc. The idea of respecting that person's place in your life is gone. It's very sad. And it's not the 1st time I've seen such behavior. I've seen exes who are supposed to be friends call each other "asshole", which tells me this is how they argued when they were a couple. And if such is the case, then these people really shouldn't be around each other on any level at all.

Such was the case with me and Danny, who my most loyal readers may recall. When we first started speaking in 2003, during our phone conversations, I would stutter out of having so much I wanted to say to him, and having no idea if I would have the time to get it all out. For our constant problem was his dedication to getting to know me was nowhere near as great as mine was to getting to know him. Well, we once had an argument over this. During that argument, he called me a "stuttering asshole". I replied by not only giving the aforementioned reasoning for my stuttering. I also returned fire by calling him an "anorexic bitch" because of his (not slim, but) skinny build at the time. But I wanted to forge a relationship with this guy. I was enamored with every physical aspect I saw of him. So I would have no reason to go to that low with such an insult, unless I was provoked by his disrespect to me.

After we had calmed down, and started talking again, I made it very clear to him that the only reason he was still alive was 2 reasons: 1) he was on the phone when he said it, and 2) at the time, he lived all the way in Middletown, NY.

Trust me, with the way my temper was back then, if he had called me a "stuttering asshole" to my face and/or lived in the 5 borough of NYC then, I would have took a bus, train, or cab, and I don't care if he's 6' 3" and I'm 5' 6", the polite way of saying it is... that it would have been the 2003 version of David and Goliath with me as "David" doing way more damage than a rock between the eyes like the Bible's David.

In my repeat attempts with trying a relationship with Danny, I've always been aware that each attempt lasted less time than the last. But this incident with the photographer has made me realize that part of what made each attempt last for a shorter amount of time may have been because of that one phrase --- "stuttering asshole". Because of all the arguments me and Danny had during our attempts at a relationship, 9 years later, THAT is the profane name directed at me that I remember most. THAT is the profanity that may very well be why after years of not talking, we are at least Facebook friends now...but even though he lives a lot closer in Manhattan as opposed to Middletown, we're not much else to each other. I think I have subconsciously kept him at bay for saying that to me. Because even though I've forgiven him, I obviously have by no means forgotten. And I believe that profanity of "stuttering asshole" directed at me, someone he claimed to care for, chipped away at whatever bond was between us to a point...possibly beyond repair.

And that is what calling a friend, lover, or family member a profanity during a disagreement does to the relationship. It chips away at the bond. Disagreements happen. It's part of human nature. But there is a way to have a disagreement, and still show respect for someone you care for in some capacity. But calling that important person in your life a profanity is a blatant sign of DISrespect that will in time make your friendships, romances, and family ties come undone. To the point that if you don't find the root of what made you fathom being that disrespectful, and correct yourself on it, you are in for a lonely future.

Write That Down #43

Have you ever been to the Gay/Lesbian section of Netflix?
If so, have you seen how most of the gay movies have pages of negative reviews?
And if so, have you seen how the negative reviews always point out the same flaws?

Well, if you answered "Yes" to all of the above questions, then it should tell the sad truth that gay cinema is not taken seriously.  Not even by the very community it was created to cater to.

Gay cinema tends to be a softcore version of gay porn in regards to its casting practices. For unless it is a gay film with a non-White cast, how often is a non-White the lead? How often is the face of a non-White considered a box office draw?...

...I do believe that's the sound of crickets you hear chirping.

In most gay cinema, the only non-White that stands a chance at recognizable screen-time is a light-complexioned Latino.

Now, if such is the case, then these movies keep being made because of who's giving financial backing to the production. Just like gay porn is paid for by racist White men looking to see white as the only beauty, the same can be said for gay cinema. Racist White guys with money to burn who don't care about a profit as much as they care to see a visual that gets them off. And in the case where those backing the film are more racially open-minded, then it's the producers, directors and casting people at fault. For they're basing their casting practices on the assumption that "White sells", which is just as bad as being a racist themselves. Never mind the fact that gays who are Black, Asian, Middle Eastern, etc. light and dark have money they want to spend on gay cinema as well. Non-whites are made to feel they don't belong, and this only leads to those ethnicities to practice the same racism in their casting and viewing.

Such an example can be said of "Noah's Arc". I liked the show. And every show has its good and bad points. I was glad to see Black actors working. I was also glad to see the fact displayed of how there is just as much of a variety of types of gays amongst Blacks as they are amongst Whites. What troubled me with the show was how seldom these Black American characters were shown interacting with other ethnicities in a positive light. But I believe the path to this lack of positive interaction between ethnicities started from predominately White gay cinema ostracizing, marginalizing, and making a fetish out of non-Whites.

It is this narrow-mindedness that leads gay cinema overall to be so marginalized, and rightfully disrespected, with the decent few getting overlooked. And until a greater percentage of producers, directors, consumers, and all parties involved change their casting practices, this marginalization and disrespect will be well deserved.

I shouldn't have to remind you that it's 2012...Therefore, I shouldn't be as correct as I am in saying any of this.

So let's get it together, people!

Hanging with the Guys At Brunch

Back in the end of January, I took a 1-day trip to Washington, D.C. to record a segment of the show, "Guys At Brunch". Also featured on the show was an interview with another former porn actor, Remy Mars. With our individual experiences in the industry, and our differing fan-base, I'm sure we would have plenty to talk about. Unfortunately, our spots were not shot in the same place or on the same day, so we never got to meet.

Some of you may be wondering why me and Remy never worked together. Well, while I've always thought Remy Mars to be hot, I personally am glad that we were never put in a scene together. For from my perspective, our looks and body types are just so similar that us fucking each other would be like a Black version of those sick-in-the-head incestuous Peters Twins from Bel Ami.

Those of us old enough have for years seen Barbara Walters get the interviewee nice and comfy. The interviewee thinks the interview is going to be a breeze. Then she hits them with a question or name of someone from their past where you can tell the interviewee is thinking, "Oh shit! I was not expecting that!" Such a moment is what I define as an interviewer doing a "Barbara Walters". And some may even say doing an "Oprah". Either way, in the end, the interviewer gets the information they're seeking for their audience, and maybe even themselves.

Well the hosts, Nicholas Garnett and Shawn Bradley knew that with me that I had no "off-limit" topic or name to discuss because of the bluntness I display on this blog. Therefore, if I experience a moment that I define as a "Barbara Walters", it's on me. Because I came onto the stage with a cool and shy demeanor. But underneath, I was itching to either call out an industry name(s), or respond to any said to me. Well, the interview was only 11 minutes long, but these guys are good enough that I got comfortable quickly. So with being at ease so quickly, I began feeling this was going to be a day I had no need to say or respond to a single name of one of my foes in the gay porn business. I was actually getting a tad disappointed. But that's when they sprung a name on me...

...Diesel Washington.

Of course, as you'll see, I didn't hold back. It was just more of a joke to myself where I thought, "Oooo shit! They just did a 'Barbara Walters' on me". I think the change of camera allowed my shock to not be seen by you, but I'm honest enough to let you know, it probably was all over my face. LOL

Later on, I discovered that on public access there are certain words you can't say. So once that was said, I knew in editing for television, at least one thing I said got bleeped out. Oops! Also, in advance, please forgive my stammering. It was due to the fact that my brain was keeping 2 large mental notes at once:
1) speaking my truth but being as brief and to the point as possible, which is a hell of a task for a writer like myself, and
2) the reason I needed to be brief and poignant, ---the time constraint.

Now that you've seen the interview. How did I do?

And not just me. Go to the Guys At Brunch YouTube channel, and leave some comments for Nicholas and Shawn.

Not Bad For 41

This past Saturday, I conducted my 1st photoshoot since I turned 41....with me as BOTH, the model and photographer.

When trying to come up with a title for this collection, I decided on "Not Bad For 41", because the truth is as I said in introducing my poem "3-31-41", aging is considered a BIG "no-no" in the gay community. So I decided why not revel in how I got to be 41 because I survived my suicidal thoughts before I came to terms with my sexual orientation? Why not revel in how I maintained myself so well at 41? Because unlike a lot of 20-, 30-, 40-somethings and beyond that I have encountered, I'm not masking some still-existing self-loathing with alcohol, drugs, and excessive socializing (virtual or real world) the way they do. Part of it might be genetics, but another important part of why I look this good for my age is definitely lifestyle.

As a song to include in the slideshow, I chose "Daddy Pop" by Prince & The New Power Generation, because not only do the lyrics fit as a way to address the many haters I have, do, and will encounter, but by gay standards, by my being over 40, I am probably considered a "daddy".

Well, this "daddy" has still got it. Better than a great many young 'uns.

What do you think?

Hook-up Sex Equations

I have always made clear that I don't have as much sex as people perceive me to have. At this point as least, between the specific mentions of a sex tryst via a sex tale here, a Facebook update, or tweet on Twitter, not much else is happening. I had to italicized the word "specific" because a good deal of my mentions of sex in those media settings are not based on a recent experience. Instead, they're based on a mere flashback that I've learned something new from.

With all that said, I think I need to make it clear about MY personal reasons and goals when I partake of a sexual hook-up. And also what I've observed of most other people's reason for partaking in them. So click and enlarge the pic below. You might see yourself. So I ask you: 

Does the equation YOU are following make TRUE happiness possible? 

For Your Eyes, Bi-Butterfly

As I said in a previous post, when The Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay & Lesbian Art put out their call for submissions for their exhibit "UNCENSORED: Queer Art and the Church", I took as a chance to finally draw my submission "Bi-Butterfly" after it had been in my head for years. Well, as they say "kill 2 birds with 1 stone", I also took submitting "Bi-Butterfly" as a way to "flip the birds to 2 faces with 1 flip".

For while the purpose of the "UNCENSORED" exhibit was to "flip the bird" to the hypocrisy of church members for trying to censor gay art, I used "UNCENSORED" to also flip the bird to gays that take issue with the reality of bisexuality.

The fact is there are many gays living miserable lives by way of always having a chip on their shoulders because their hetero-phobic mindset propagating a war of "Gay vs. Straight" or vice versa. So in their eyes, bisexuals like myself are looked upon as soldiers who refuse to pick a side, or as one guy trying to court me some years ago put it, "a gay trying to hold on to the straight world". Hence why unbeknownst to him, I called him a "loser", and never called him again, nor did I answer his calls to me. But I am not trying to be a soldier in this "war". For there is a war of "Closeted Gay vs. Out Gays" (paging Rick Santorum). However, the "Gays vs. Straight" war or vice versa is only in the cold hearts of drama-seeking gays.

Because of this imagined war, I knew that art pieces depicting bisexuality would be few and far between. So I knew my piece would stand out, not only because of the colors, which encompass those of the bisexual flag. But also because of the message that it sends out that bisexuality is just as beautiful an orientation as being totally straight or totally gay.

Since the exhibit ended Sunday, April 1st, I decided to unveil it here for those of you who have read the previous post mentioning it, but for whatever reason were unable to see it at the Leslie-Lohman Annex.

Compared to the models I used for the physiques in this drawing, I think I did quite well in copying them.

So now, you can add "Artist" to my list of talents.