The Real on Why I Hate Poppers

If you follow me on any form of social media, then you know that I have made it no secret of my great disdain for poppers. Well, it is one thing to have a disdain for something, but it becomes a stance of arrogance to refuse an in depth explanation for that stance.

Once at The Pleasure Chest, they had a sex-ed skill-share for people wanting to be sex educators. One of the required task was to make a 10-minute presentation on a sexual topic, to which other participants gave criticisms on your presentation. The topic I chose was “Popper-Free Anal Sex”. And while I took most of the criticism well, and was actually self-aware enough to know, one criticism was substance-abuse enabling, and capitalism-driven for a sex retail space willing to sell poppers.

I was told that my calling partakers of poppers ignorant was me shaming them.

I’m sorry, but I am supposed to think that I said something wrong? For I pride myself on seeing the big picture on a matter before speaking publicly about it. Plus, when I say anything against poppers, I am talking to adults. Adults who should know better than to intentionally hold a bottle mere millimeters away from their noses to sniff. Especially since that bottle houses amyl nitrates — a chemical that if ingested any more directly (like swallowing) can result in immediate (and possibly fatal) harm to the body. Such as this doctor’s quote from a Vice article shows:

“It is not thought that amyl leads to many long-term issues, but there are some short-term risks,” Dr Boylan says. “It is possible to develop an allergic reaction over time. Another rare but serious complication is methaemoglobinaemia, which means the blood becomes unable to carry oxygen. This can be life threatening, and it happens when a person swallows rather than inhales poppers.”

Am I really supposed to coddle adults who should have the common sense to figure out just a smidgen of this information?

Take note that the person who accused me of shaming was a cis female. She does not live with seeing this ignoring of common sense repeated in her community ad nauseum. Unlike me, who sees it repeatedly since the gayness in my bisexuality has me way more so in the gay male community. Hence why I made it my topic for that event.

I feel no wrong in shaming in this instance. For if a parent is any degree worthy of the title of “parent”, then there are instances in which teaching the difference between right and wrong requires shaming you for doing the wrong. Plus what other choice does one have when common sense is often met by many popper users with an addict's aggression to defend their drug of choice. So real educators, ones not marionetted by corporate bottom lines are left to pick up where too many "gay parents" have fucked up.

Before we go any further, know that I have survived over a decade of contemplating suicide because of not owning my orientation. I did not survive and endure all of those days and nights of angst to finally come out, bottoming, then delude myself into thinking I’d be cooler if I became a substance abuser by doing poppers. Hence why I make no secret as to how since my coming out, my enjoyment of anal sex has led to me being tag-teamed by beer-can thick dicks, double-penetrated (more than twice), practically gangbanged, and still get compliments on having a tight hole. All without poppers.

My dislike of poppers is more about me wanting what every person engaging in sexual intercourse should want — — to be the center of my sex partner’s attention.

If I’m to share my sex partner’s focus, I want it to be with another human being if we’re having group sex. I don’t like the idea of sharing that focus... with a bottle? A bottle as much as 35 times shorter than me and containing a harmful substance. So the frustration that has come through much of what I’ve written about poppers over time is my concern as to why more gay males don’t want the same for themselves. And gay males are already prone to self-esteem issues as an oppressed community. So the use of poppers in my eyes becomes an acting out over those issues.

Furthermore, when one encourages another to use them, they are encouraging that person to follow a path that is counterproductive to the ongoing fights for 1)being gay, and; 2) having anal sex considered a healthy sexual practice to celebrate sexuality.

I come at this matter with such veracity because I’ve been masturbating since I was about 10 years old. Eventually I realized that fondling of myself was me introducing my body to sexual stimulation. Well, from the pleasures I got from that fondling, then playing with my butt hole once I discovered gay male sex was usually anal, I felt if those pleasant sensations were so much as an inkling of what actual sexual intercourse felt like, then I wanted nothing, nothing, NOTHING to interfere with my brain receiving the messages of how much pleasure I was feeling. Nor did I want anything to interfere with me remembering what exactly I did to my body to achieve that pleasure, so I can pass on that information to my sex partner(s) if need be. Or who gave that pleasure to me.

I find it to be absolute insanity to allow anything to interfere with that sensation. To the point that I will not date a guy who does poppers. So while some white/light-complexioned guys treat medium/dark-complexioned guys as being “good enough for a lay, but not to stay”, that’s how I treat guys who do poppers. And I feel no shame about it. For at least my discarding of such guys is based on a health-conscious decision. A behavior they can change if they choose to. Unlike the aforementioned white/light-complexioned guys whose racism and colorism makes them discard you over natural traits like darker skin and almond-shaped eyes. Therefore, beyond your control.

I personally get highly offended when I either see online profiles of guys claiming how they “can suck dick all day by doing poppers”, or seeing the actual action at a sex party/backroom by a guy on his knees sucking every dick around him and interrupting his suck with a huff of poppers. What offends me is how such a guy is lying to himself about his love of oral sex. Anyone who claims to “need” poppers to better their endurance of oral sex is telling themselves a lie.

For I love giving blowjobs. If you put 5 hot guys in front of me with their dicks out, I’ll suck on their dicks so long that my jowls might look like those of Kanye West by the end of it. And I don’t need to huff on poppers to suck on them that long. My love of sucking dick, those guys’ sex appeal, and my ego about my oral prowess is all the drive I need.

I’m sure some feel that I owe no one this explanation. After all, the term “poppers” alone is illegal is some places because it shows illegal intent to use amyl nitrates by huffing. Even XTube is aware of this fact. Hence why I had to change the title in the description for my XTube video embedded in “Poppers! We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Poppers!” For XTube has outlawed the use of the word “poppers” on their site. Even if the purpose of the word is to eradicate poppers itself.

However, what motivates me to give this explanation is because poppers have so heinously infiltrated the gay male community, it is seeping into the anal sex lives of straight people as well… But by the misleading advice of gay males who were advised by the misled before them. So it is an ugly passing of a spiked baton showing that this substance abuse is an epidemic. One that a detailed explanation of one’s adversity to poppers might be one of the last stitch efforts to eradicate this interference to our anal-sex-loving lives.

With all this, am I bragging? In order to get the message through, YES.

So join me so that I will have no reason or right to brag. For doing such great sexual feats will instead become for all of us in the anal sex-loving community, a common place statement of being. Thereby making bragging become wasted breath. But right now, my bragging is still necessary.

Sex Personified

What makes a man "sex personified"?

Well, before I give my answer, to prove that my including myself in the above collage is not me being arrogant thinking I'm all that, let me recall what happened to me to make me consider the reality of such a thing, and start seeing it in others.

Way back when the NYC gay bar/club Splash was around, one night I was as usual, dancing alone. Still celebrating my being out. It might have been about a year before I got into porn. Anyway, this cute European guy comes to the dancefloor with 2 females. As much as I wanted to stare and hopefully make eye contact, I didn't try because he was with the 2 females.

You see, I don't try to court guys at a bar/club known for hook-ups when I know they are with friends. That's because it is often the case that they are either looking out for the friends, or following the lead of the friends. Which in turn makes those friends become the biggest cock-blockers. And this instance might not have been any different.

For as I said, I was dancing all by myself. He was with the females about 4 - 6 ft. away. Then my peripheral vision saw him starting to approach me. I was hoping that this was him making the 1st move. Once he got right by me, I turned to look directly at him. He then initiated speaking by saying...

"YOU ARE SEX! You're like,...", while looking me up and down as in awe, he concluded by saying, "...the whole thing! You are just so beautiful. I had to say that to you."

I smiled and thanked him, and then he just simply turned around and went back to the 2 females he came in with. Never saying another word to me. So I'm left standing there thinking, "Uh,... what the fuck just happened?"

Because he left me so bewildered, I never took what he said to heart. I just thought of him as a drunk Euro boy who made himself dismissable by being drunk. Then things started to happen in my life to make me more aware of my sex appeal. Things that made me have to wonder... why did he just break from his group like that, say those words to me, then walk away? In his eyes, was my beauty, or my aura that striking that it compelled him to do that? If there is any truth to the saying, "a drunk man's words are a sober man's truth", then the answer is YES. And there have been numerous instances since confirming it.

Such as while I was an extra on Michael Lucas' "Dangerous Liaisons", some of the pornstars kept looking over at me. I was standing far enough away from people that there was no way to confuse myself as to where they were looking, or who they were looking at.... Except maybe behind me. So I turned around to look. All to have to say to myself, "Nope, no one there. So their eyes are on YOU!"

Or as I wrote a few years ago about how I'll go to sex parties where all the guys there are being wallflowers. However, when I finally find someone to my liking, and have sex with them, then the wallflowers stop being wallflowers. To the extent that I have witnessed guys who were wallflowers simultaneously when I arrived start having sex with each other.

And even today, I will get on the bus or train, and walk in the door to see sometimes males, sometimes females, and sometimes both... stop and stare at me in adoration. Or see a guy being arm and arm with his girlfriend or wife. As I'm in my spot listening to music, reading a book, or just being to my thoughts, I'll suddenly feel eyes on me. Then in my peripheral vision, I'll discover that those eyes on me... are from the guy from the straight couple.

He'll be looking me up and down. Making a full assessment of me from head to toe. Then out of guilt, start a public display of affection with his female partner. OR his woman will start some PDA knowing good and darn well that she'll never confront him about checking out a man.

As stated before, this is not me being arrogant. This is just me being observant of people's actions around me, and when I've unsuspectedly have become involved in those actions. Plus, if I was arrogant about this, I wouldn't me willing to admit and admire that there are others who seem to have that same kind of presence.

The presence that makes a man (or woman) sex personified. Someone having a sexual aura that makes sexuality come to the forefront of many minds as soon as that person walks into a space. Consuming the admirer to the point that the admirer considers crossing their taught boundaries of color, ethnic preference, or even their degree of straight or gay.

It is a reality, and that is where the poem "Sex Personified" is born from.

Evolution of My Topping

After losing my virginity in 2002, I was a total bottom for about 2 years. Always knowing that eventually I would become versatile, but for the moment, I was a total bottom, and okay with that. That is why I always tells customers in the sex shop to be patient with themselves for whatever their goal may be.

Once I started topping, I always said that after 2 years of being a total bottom that in my versatility I am a much better bottom than top. No matter what percentage of being a top or bottom I was, even when my versatility reached 50/50, and a good number of playmates praising me as a top, I still felt my skill set made me a much better bottom.

I recently had 2 encounters with which I saw myself becoming more confident in my topping skills. An evolution, if you will. The signs of this evolution might not seem obvious at first, but I will explain how so, and why it is for the better later.

The first incident happened at The Cock. I was behind a curtain, and this guy was sucking me off. Right next to me was a short hottie that I've played with before. As he watched me get my cock sucked, he laid on his back on the bench while playing with his hole. The blowjob was pretty good, but watching that short hottie play with his hole made me rock hard, and needing to be engulfed by not a mouth, but the 98.6 degree and rising warmth of a hungry bottom's ass tunnel.

The past times I topped the short hottie, he assumed the position to be topped doggy style. Being the ass-man that I am, that made it easier to get turned on, start fucking him, and keep fucking him. This time however, seeing him in position to bottom in missionary made me want him right away. My craving wasn't to look at his ass while inside it. No, it was solely about being inside him. Seeing the beauty of his ass was no longer a crutch to get me hard and keep me hard. Just the thought of being inside him in any position was all I needed.

Before I'm called a hypocrite regarding Rule #5 in my rules of blowjob etiquette, I initially was planning to give my dick to the guy giving me a blowjob. But he was sucking me for so long that he seemed like sucking my cock was all he wanted to do. A man that is going to be worth my interest knows to do as I do - stop sucking to check on his playmate to see if he eventually wants that cock made hard by a cocksucker so it can go in his cocksucker's ass, like it should be. This guy never checked in with me for that. He was sucking me for all eternity and I was getting bored by it. As I mentioned before, he sucked it pretty good, but he never offered his asshole. My playmate from my past laying on the bench next to me did offer his asshole.

I went in my pouch and got out some lube to put on my cock. I then slid my cock inside him and started pounding with so much passion. A degree of a passion I've done while topping doggy style, but never in missionary. The more he moaned in pleasure. The more I touched his bare skin not covered by his harness and jockstrap. The more I wrapped my arms around him to go deeper inside him. It all made me not want to stop. But I did stop, so I wouldn't come. Because I have a feeling that if I did come, I would not have stopped. I would have probably shot a raw load in his ass, and kept pumping so I could try and shoot another. Fucking him so long that the lights would come on in the bar because of it nearing closing time.

The other instance happened at a Milk Chocolate NYC party.

I had already topped from behind while standing this sexy guy who was around my height. The entire time I thrusted into the soft cheeks of his ass, as much as I loved looking down to see those cheeks squeeze with my every inward thrust, I wanted him on his back. So I could look in his eyes right below those sexy eyebrows.

Later on in the night, he and a guy that he and I both had bottomed for earlier were sitting on a sofa in the space. Another guy put his legs up and started fucking the hottie. This put the thought back in my head of how much I wanted to look in his eyes while my cock is inside that amazing ass. Then the other guy stopped. So my chance opened up. And when this hottie saw my hard cock eager to get in him again, he opened his ass up along with that chance.

I got on my knees and put my hard cock inside him, with his legs leaning on my shoulders. He lit up the deeper I went in. And when I started pumping into him, he lit up even more. Maybe because my cock was also swelling from feeling his body hair and playing with his big dick. In any case, his being pleased was undeniable for me to see because I was looking right into his eyes.

So how do these 2 occurrences show that I am evolving in my topping skills?

I have long been saying that sex is not just a physical connection, but also a spiritual connection. The latter is one many gay males try to deny. Hence why doggy-style is the most common position at a sex party or backroom. For both connections exist even in a backroom/sex party tryst, and doggy-style, while a great position for a top to view the ass he is pumping into, it also helps a top avoid looking into his sex partner's eyes, which are windows to the soul.

With that said, those 2 encounters with me craving, then being a top in missionary shows me evolving because before then, my spiritual connection that I said was part of sex was obtained in my mind, but less obtained by our sexual position. Therefore, giving no guarantee as to whether or not the spiritual connection that was obtained before the sex was truly maintained during the sex. By me topping in missionary, a more intimate position, I have now evolved to obtaining that spiritual connection by more physical and definite means. A position where my playmate and I look each other in the eyes. Where we can see the beauty of healthy lust, and ask for more. Or see its ugliness and part ways soon after.

Since in addition to being horny, I need to vibe with positive sexual energy from the person(s), I believe the lust we'll have will most definitely be the beauty of healthy lust.

Nathaniel, R-U A Rapist?

For the first time in awhile, I went to the NYC gay bar, The Eagle for their Jockstrap Happy Hour. At this event, proceeds go to a charity by way of a $5 cover as most patrons strip down to usually a jockstrap or some other kind of underwear and enjoy cocktails, beers, conversation, and flirtation. Most guests from my experience partake of these things well and act respectfully towards one another's personal space. However, there is often someone with such a rabid level of social ineptitude that they can ruin it for someone.

Well, on this night, the name of the person with the rabid social ineptitude was Nathaniel.

I paid my cover and entered the bar. In less than a minute, this tall, slim black male came up to me introducing himself by saying "Hi, I'm Nathaniel". Even though I don't know my degree of celebrity, knowing that I have some at all still makes me wonder if such an abrupt introduction is either a social media follower or someone seeing me as an Average Joe.

He immediately offered to buy me a drink, and I refused. I shouldn't have to explain why I refused. However, since using one another is such a commonality in gay society endorsed by its media, nightlife, and porn, An explanation for my refusal is necessary before I continue.

When a guy offers to buy you a drink, he wants something. If you don't want conversation with him, don't accept the drink. If you don't want to kiss him, don't accept the drink. If you don't want to end up having sex with him,... DON'T ACCEPT THE FUCKING DRINK!!! So in practicing what I preach, I refused. Because your sex appeal in that person's eye (and/or their desperation) is what got you the offer. And I'm not going to let my sex appeal get me something from someone who I know wants something in return, but I have no intent of giving what they want to them. That's what justifies Karma's action when she takes your sex appeal away by way of your subconscious guilt making you age poorly.

Anyway, after my refusal, he persisted in trying to talk to me. I said I just got here, and I wanted to settle myself first. He seemed to get the hint. He told me to enjoy my evening, then walked away. As I was waiting, I was so in a rush to get in the bar that I forgot I needed to use the restroom. So I went. When I returned, I went to the opposite end of the bar. Once there, Nathaniel came back, and started talking to me again. And it wasn't like he was approaching me out of drunkenness that made him forget we met just a few minutes earlier. He was well aware that we spoke before because this time, he did not introduce himself.

In response to whatever he said, there were many things I said that made it clear that if I was to entertain his company at any point, that moment was not the time. Such as how a few times when he said that it seems like I had a wall up, one time I responded by saying, "I do. Because I don't know. It comes down the more I get to know you." In whatever various ways I said that, I told him the truth each time. Another time in his rambling I responded by telling him, "When I first walk into a space, I like to assess the room. Get a feel for it. And to focus and get an honest assessment, I like to do that alone. Hence why I often go places solo."

He still kept talking to me. In fact, he even furthered his closing into my personal space. For most of the time, he was leaning against the bar with his left hand. Leaning into me at a less than 45 degree angle, which was inciting my porn-induced PTSD to do something drastic.

With hindsight being 20/20, I think one of the things that saved him from a heinous reaction was the fact that my porn-induced PTSD is incited more by being actually touched, which even in his close proximity to my body, he never did.

As he kept getting such responses from me defending my justified personal space, he became unjustly defensive in both his verbal responses, and his body language. Such as how he went from the less than 45 degree lean to taking his other hand and putting it on the other side of me, closing me in.

The whole encounter had me so annoyed that I only remember bit and pieces of what he said. At that moment all I recall is that he was asking me how old I was. I told him that I would tell him if he would stop trying to corner me. Me having to negotiate for my personal space to avoid responding with a physically violent reaction made his existence more insignificant with every letter of every word he spoke and every millimeter of his movement. For he was trying to close me in to possess my time and space.

Now, as a Black man in the racist clusterfuck that is the American gay community, I am more than a little aware of how disregarded a black male can feel. Especially when we have been passed aside for white/light-complexioned guys by someone claiming to like, or even love us. In every scenario from a backroom tryst to a long-term relationship. However, the accumulation of such hits does not justify Nathaniel (or any other black male) imposing upon someone's personal space. Especially not in that fashion. And especially not the personal space of a stranger --- what I was to Nathaniel.

With all this said, I must publicly ask Nathaniel this...

Nathaniel, are you a rapist? Have you called yourself having a conversation with a person giving only a few inches, instead of at least a foot between that person and yourself? Have you gotten defensive when they ask you to back up? Even if they ask with the utmost politeness? Have you gotten defensive when their polite words show they would rather be left alone?

I must ask these questions because based on your behavior on the night of April 19, 2019, you have all the makings of a rapist. Repetitious in executing power moves upon the personal space of a person you have no claim to. So if you don't fix this behavior now, I expect to hear news of you being accused, arrested, indicted, tried, and convicted in due time.

I actually hope you have done no such extent of harm to someone. But if you have, I hope this article inspires them to come forward.

Open Letter To A Jealous Cunt From The Cock

The other night at The Cock, I ran into a guy I've made out with a couple of times before there. He told me that after our last meeting, a guy that he had never met before came up to him right after I left and said to him, "That guy you were with... He has AIDS."

So the following is my open letter response to whomever this guy is who said that about me...

Dear Jealous Cunt From The Cock,

I understand you told a playmate of mine that I have AIDS. To correct you, I do not have AIDS. I am HIV+. And to top it off, I am undetectable, and have been for a number of years now. So I am untrasmittable, and probably much to your chagrin, nowhere near death due to HIV, AIDS, or any other disease for that matter. For also probably much to your chagrin, I am in great health.

Perhaps you said that I had AIDS without knowing about my publicly revealing my HIV+ status. If such is the case, then you're just an envious asshole.

However, if you did tell that lie because of coming across my online revelation, then you're not only an asshole. You're also a fucking idiot.

For like I said, I publicly revealed my HIV+ status already. I uploaded a video to my Vimeo, then shared it via my Facebook & Twitter, posted a snippet on my Instagram account, wrote a post about that revelation on my blog, and recently made it an ongoing series with an article on KinksterMag. So even if I didn't tell him about my status at that time, which I did not, I had already put it in enough places online that it was only a matter of time before he found out. Whether by my revealing it to him directly, or his discovering it by chance.

With that said, I must say THANK YOU.

For you maliciousness gave me the opportunity to reveal to him the truth of my status. The reason I hadn't said anything to him thus far about my being HIV+ is because for me, one of the gifts of being undetectable is that my HIV+ status is no longer on the forefront of my mind in my social meetings. I take my medication everyday, and it is no longer a weight weighing on my mind. I drink, but don't get drunk. Nor do I do do drugs. So I am not doing anything that can be counterproductive to my HIV treatment.

That is why as I turn 48 this Sunday, I can look this good, and be healthier than many 20 and 30-somethings who drink excessively and do drugs. Here is a recent picture to remind you:

Now, the ignorance and internal ugliness that it took for you to make such a statement about me to a stranger makes one question if you can say the same as I about your alcohol and/or drug intake. Were you drunk? Were you high?

Actually,... who gives a fuck?! Whether you are substance-free of not, your action was a clear display of your ENVY. Your UGLY SOUL. You being CUNTy.

Whether you were lusting for me, or lusting for my playmate, you lost your shot at both. For if you at some point wanted me, this has definitely sealed your fate that there will never be a "we" between you and me. And my playmate's reaction to your actions shows he has no interest in you either.

Hence why FYI -  He and I are still cool.

So next time you want to try a move like this, I strongly advise you to not only get your facts straight. But make sure I never learn who you are.

You see, if your story was created by reading my blog at all, then out of your maliciousness, you have conveniently ignored the history of my blogging. One that has a history of putting gay bars, clubs, media sites, porn studios, porn actors, and their  managers on blast by name for their ignorance against me and/or one or more of my communities. So you are not safe from being dealt the same if I ever learn who you are.

The only thing saving you from being put on blast with photos and links to your social media now is the fact that my playmate did not point you out to me. And I think he's nice enough not to. But if he ever does, you had better pray that I don't know you well enough by name and/or face. Otherwise, everyone will know by name how hideous you are on the inside, which in many's eyes will make its way to the outside. That is if it hasn't already.

So your best bet to avoid a more public well-deserved public shaming that this open letter is show yourself, and come to me like a man with an honest apology. Have a good day.

I Can Sell Your Dick Better Than Any Pornstar

After midnight on Friday, I wrote this post on my former Facebook page:

After riding the Latino's beautiful cock, we parted ways. I then went and sat on a stool at the bar. Not too long after though, I could see from there that a go-go boy was trying to give the Latino a lap dance. The lap dance might have even led to some fucking over there. But it was definitely the case in an area behind a curtain closer to the bar, as I went for a closer look.

Trust me, my need to go in closer was not jealousy of any kind. My need to investigate was because I suspected a trend. The trend I stated in the caption of the Instagram pic below:

View this post on Instagram

Over the past few months, I have had not 1, not 2, but 3 instances when I'm bottoming with a hottie in a #gaybar backroom, and the #gogoboy witnessing it needs to be next. Since my verbal and physical reactions were the most noticeable parts of the encounter, it was literally my #ass that sold those #gogoboys on straying from their job to try getting a taste of what I was enjoying. And for Gogo #1, that's continued straying. And you probably thought only #bottoming #gaypornstars could sell you on a top's #cock. A blog post on "L's X-Ray Vision" will soon give more details. * #gaynightlife #backroom #jealousy #envy #sexualwhiteentitlement #racisminthegaycommunity #sexualracism

A post shared by LeNair Xavier (@lenairxavier71) on Feb 28, 2019 at 7:53pm PST

So this was the 3 time such a thing has happened in the past 4 or 5 months. It's common for fellow patrons in a sex party/backroom to scramble to be the next one to ride on the dick that just pleased you because your ass pleased him. But it's another social disorder present when that many go-go boys do the same thing in such a span of time.

What's wrong is that their behavior reaffirms my observations from over 7 years ago. About how today's go-go boys don't stick to being solely eye candy. And while most go-go boys are millennials, many let their horniness be governed by the narcissism and sense of entitlement numerous articles have shown that millennials have come to be known for. A work ethic is not as much in their performance as it should be, or as they might claim it is.

I'm sure this next suspicion is going to cause some of you to say, "Oh, here he goes with that again!", But the fact is many white and light-complexioned males have long tried to either be the "next and better" sex partner, or out right steal a playmate from a person of color. Yes, they play the same game with other white/light complexioned people. However, every medium to dark complexioned Black, Latino, or Middle Easterner, and Asian reading this has probably experienced this at some point, and a good deal more often.

Case in point:

At the after party that inspired my Thotyssey article, "Fetch My Drugs, Fetch My Fuck", I was the sole Black guy invited. Always having a White/light Latino playmate. When one guest would start playing with someone who came as part of a pair or grouping, all of the members of that initial pair or grouping was always added to being played with, but they were all either white or light skinned Latino. But when one of the guest tried playing with the guy my +1 (since I was the one initially invited), they tried acting like I wasn't even in the room.

Luckily, it never erupted into a conflict because the playmates I brought there were loyal enough to me to not leave me out, and tried including me when the white/light guy wouldn't bother. Looking back, I wonder does that have to do with them being European. Because I have not had such a high percentage of loyalty from American white males. But that's another topic.

My point is that all of these go-go boys are either white American or Latino. So it's only natural that they would be suspected of that same self-serving mindset. Especially by being a go-go boy, many looked upon as sex gods, and they know it. 

If this is not the case with all 3, it is definitely the case with Go-go Boy #1. For while I was bottoming for the guy he wanted, he was actually trying to chat away with my top to get him away from me. This just goes to show that you can give a white boy (even one with a big dick) a gig that portrays him as a sex god, but he can still exhibit the racist white male insecurity towards a Black male's sexuality.

For no man is a sex god, whatever color he may be. And no matter what media hype tells us, the deepest part of our conscience knows that limitation to be true.

Now, let's address the title of this article. It's because when you think about it, most fans of penetrating male porn actors are sold on that male not by his actions solely, if at all. They are more sold on that male porn actor by the reactions of the person they are performing sex acts on/with.

In my cases:

#1 was a combo of him thrusting into my ass from behind, and me thrusting on his dick;

#2 was mostly me riding the guy's dick, and;

#3 was me solely riding the guy's dick.

So the majority of action and reaction that made these go-go boys strive for a turn came from me. Therefore, it was my ass and my top's reaction to my ass that sold those go-go boys on my playmate's cock to the point that they wanted to be next in line. Much like a penetrated pornstar, but better than a penetrated pornstar because I didn't need to get paid in order to do it. It was a natural sexual chemistry leading to my natural fun expressed. 

It is definitely an ego boost to realize that the way I fuck, in this case, as a bottom, that I can make even the guys portrayed as sex gods want the playmate that I had obtained. And it may be a degree of envy involved. For those go-go boys' trysts after mine came more so from them dancing on that box. A perch for them to be noticed. Meanwhile, my trysts with those playmates came simply from me being in the room... at floor level like my playmates. Knowing recognition is a possibility, but not seeking it when they approached me. 😁😎😉😘

I Said I Was A Sex Blogger, And He Ran Like A L'il Biatch!

I was standing in front of the DJ booth. In this deep dark, I felt myself being watched. So then I had to figure out by whom. It turned out being a tall, slim, dark-haired white guy at a diagonal to my right. We slowly started exchanging glances. As this continued, 2 others guys came on each side of me, closing me in, which I hate. So I moved over to stand against the wall to the right of the DJ booth, which actually put me still at a diagonal behind the guy, but a very slight one. He turned, and the exchange of glances continued. He then proceeded to stand against the wall next to me, but still not saying a word.

This made me think back to my playmate from "French Kiss, Big Bliss". Introducing himself to me by saying, "Either we can keep looking at each other, or one of us can say 'Hello'." So instead of us continuing to gawk at each other, even with him standing next to me against the wall, I initiated conversation by saying hello.

We exchanged names. His name was Robert. He was White American, but born in Spain. Well, whatever the case, he definitely adopted the too typical American attitude towards sexuality that I've encountered.

For during our conversation, we talked about what we do for a living. He's an actor. As for his liking what I do, he was okay with me saying that I worked in a sex shop as my day job. However, when I added that my side job is that of a sex blogger, Robert did the oldest escape line in the book by saying, "I'm going to go use the restroom." Then added to show the finality of how this was a move to escape, "It was nice talking to you."

This is not the 1st time a guy has turned tail and ran when I tell them I'm a sex blogger. It has happened enough times that as with all such blog posts, I'm forced to make it public knowledge because it is indicative of a greater problem in the American gay community. And I must say American, because that is who this has most often happened with. With European suitors, along with the initial fascination most Americans give, they've also at least allowed me to say the truth of how I practice discretion. They at least allow that much to be said. Hence why I'm still in touch with my playmates from my years old blog posts, "Sexy Sweet Swedes" and the aforementioned "French Kiss, Big Bliss".

As my most loyal readers have seen, I don't put you on blast by name unless you have wronged me.

With that I'm sure some of you are asking: How did Robert wrong me? He did so by wasting my time. For so many gay males give off this idea that since we're out and proud gays, we don't have to abide by the sexually oppressive norms of the hetero-normative. Well, if you are a gay person with an issue with talking about sex, then you're a hypocrite to that bullshit hype about all gay males. A hypocritical hype often found with American gay males. Hence why in a sexually permissive space, a visiting European is often underwhelmed. Since they are not above lowering themselves to the colorism and racism I often write about, I have found myself passed over for a white/light American. But you can see they were just settling for the optics. For they later come back around trying to get me. Due to finding the sexual energy of who they settled for disappointing.

If you want to know what exactly I write about with sexuality, then simply ASK. One can very simply ask me questions like:

• Do I write about sex in general, and/or do I talk about my own sexual experiences?
• And if I do the latter, how discreet am I?

2 simple questions I could very simply gave the answers to with the evidence being throughout this blog in posts telling of my sexscapades. Unfortunately, members of this Grindr generation (like Robert) are too socially inept to communicate in one-on-one conversations. So they are totally oblivious about asking any simple question(s) that can put their mind at ease on a matter. 

I'm sure some of you are quick to say that not everyone wants to be written about. I am totally aware of that. Hence why with my 1st Amendment right to freedom of speech, I use discretion. However, with that discretion, if you've done nothing to be ashamed of, then you should have no problem knowing that such a tale of your sexual prowess (or lack thereof) is out there. Those who have allowed shame by activity, ethnic, religious, and workplace cultures, etc. to impose upon their pride in their sexual behavior are those most uncomfortable about such tales.

Being insightful, I can very easily surmise as to what some guy's apprehensions are. They feel my being a sex blogger means:

• I'm studying them. Well, isn't that what anyone is supposed to do when they meet someone? You should be getting studied by the person you meet even if they are a mortician. So my being a sex blogger should not make a difference. The insecurity that males try to hide just makes them more aware of it. For they believe;
• I'll be more critical of their sex skills. This is a threat to the typical male because as I have said in a post for Thotyssey NYC, we males are taught to think we're all-knowing when it comes to sex. So being in the presence of a sex blogger threatens a blow of that cover. Exposing how much males are not omniscient about sex as they pretend they are. Well, truth be told, if the guy possess such unfounded arrogance, blowing that cover is what he deserves. Otherwise, if I'm unsatisfied, I would do as I advised in that Thotyssey article, and honestly and respectfully communicate my dissatisfaction.
• I'm going to without a doubt write about the encounter. At one time, that might have been the case. Because contrary to what many believe, I don't have sex as often as people think. So each sexual encounter was  a celebration simply because it happened. Especially after my late coming out. Now however, with my maturity, I've made the rule to write about the encounter when the sexual experience has actually taught me something. Knowledge to pass on to you, my readers. And since I don't have sex that often, and am sober when I do it, it makes the details to pass on that knowledge easier to remember. With that being the case, sexual encounters that are all about pleasure may or may not be spoken of in articles. And if they are, as long as I'm practicing the aforementioned discretion, there should be no need for worry.
• they are actually doing something shameful and fear exposure for it. Such as those who fetishize one because of their color, ethnicity, age, religion, etc.; or those leading double lives because living their truth would be hurtful to the ones they have never lived their truth with from the start. And if you are doing such shameful things, you are concerned about being exposed to the public for it. Well, there's an easy solution to avoid being called out for those things, be it by a sex blogger (like myself), or a random person you crossed needing to vent on social media...
  
  DON'T DO THE STUPID SHIT THAT MAKES YOU DESERVE BEING CALLED OUT FOR!!!

The problem is that all of these are based in guilt and shame about their sexual behavior. The first 3 bullet points though might very well be for no good reason. As some of that sexual behavior that guys are feeling guilt and shame over is simply them being gay. Hence those who drink to the point of drunkenness even when they don't even plan to so much as kiss a guy. They want to numb themselves to their action as a gay male.

This leads to another wrong of Robert. His alcohol consumption for liquid courage. Many, too many a gay males are okay with this. Completely ignoring the fact that using liquid courage to express any part of yourself, especially your sexual self is not a man.

And liquid courage is why Robert  tried coming back to me. Yes, you read correct. He was fooling around with someone else. I was standing nearby by paying him no mind. Then I saw a hand reach out for me, and it turned out being Robert. In response, I swatted his hand away and my inside voice made its way outside for me to say "Alcoholic faggot!"

He evidently heard me, and tried growing a pair of balls with his tone by saying, "Excuse me?!"

I leaned forward to give him a closer look in the eye and responded, "I said 'alcoholic faggot!'", and then walked away.

Don't try showing me the pair of balls that grew from being tiny seeds on you only because you poured liquid courage into them. Because I will get a sadistic joy from embarrassing you for it taking liquid courage for you to seemingly grow a pair.

I make no apologies for what I said either. For we, the American gay male community have too many "Roberts" among us. So while "faggot" might be an ugly word to use, as I said before, needing alcohol to be the sexual self you want to be is not a man. Thereby making it ugly behavior. And someone needs to call all such people out on that ugliness. The reason it took me so long to come out was because I did not want to claim I "needed" substances in my body that morph my judgment in order to be the sexual being I want to be.

So in short, this behavior by Robert, and there being so many versions of him among us shows that we need to do better for ourselves. Doing so will hopefully cause a chain. One in which doing more right to ourselves will lead to us doing more right to others.

He Called My Asshole A Pussy,... And I Liked it

One night I went to Incubus NYC. While I was getting undressed, my peripheral vision caught the frame of a hot naked body. I then got inspired to look more directly at the person. That's when I saw that as he continued walking, a beautiful semi-erect cock swinging, and a profile of a nice ass. An ass that as I watched his back showed itself to be a sweet, juicy bubble butt.

At which point, I could foresee me and him fucking. And even though I was trying not to set myself up for disappointment, I did say to myself, "Damn! I want a piece of that."

And I didn't want him as my bottom. I wanted him as my top.

After I got undressed down to my underwear, I went upstairs. That's where he was. Sitting on a couch with guys crowding him. While they were crowding him, I saw him looking at me. So I wound up in the mix. The guys swarming in seemed to become too much for him, and then he left. I knew I wasn't part of what overwhelmed him, but my suspicions of how they made him feel made me leave as well.

We soon after met up in the backroom of Paddles. We started making out. He then did something to me that I often do to guys when making out with them. He started massaging me. It was making me melt, and I let him know that. So he offered me a full-on massage.

I laid down on the medical table in that backroom. He started massaging me while he stood on the floor. Every time part of his massage positioned him moving pass my face, the sight of his swinging dick, hanging balls, and thick well defined thighs made my dick start growing underneath me. So much that I started wondering if I could end up cumming from the friction of his massage making my repeatedly growing cock rub against the soft cushions of that medical table.

My repeatedly growing cock stayed hard when he decided to continue his massage by getting on top me with his naked body. So now, I had those fit thighs on each side of me. As well as his equally fit calves. And it was heaven on earth feeling his dick and balls rubbing against various parts of my backside. Especially when his massage moves made his dick slip down the crack of my ass.

He was massaging me for so long that for a moment I thought  he was only going to give me a massage. But I was more so hoping that the massage was to relax my body for a nice hard butt-fuck from him.

Then he said something leading to me to an answer...

He said, "I want to fuck your pussy so bad". When he first said it, I felt a little weird because of what I told myself about calling the asshole by any other name but. However, I was also kind of turned on. Because of that being "kind of turned on", I hoped that after I said yes, and he began thrusting into me that he say it to me again. For I wanted to see if my being kind of turned on by my asshole being called a "pussy" was a passing moment, therefore making me need to stop him. Or was it something I could get into.

I got my answer by him putting that cock that I enjoyed the holy hell out of sucking, being hard enough to put in my ass, him slipping a condom on, and thrusting away at my hole. As he thrusted away at me, while I laid on my stomach, and his crotch massaged my also bubbly ass. He asked if I liked him fucking my pussy, and I told him I did. This time, his voice calling my ass a pussy turned me on more than it did the first time.

We soon change positions. Missionary. I was more than pleased by this because I was finally going to be able to massage his bubbly butt, while he massaged my hole with his dick. So good that when he asked if I like him fucking my pussy, I mirrored his words by responding, "Yes. Keep fucking my pussy, Baby!"

Yes. I referred to my own asshole as a pussy. And I didn't care. At first, I thought it was something that happened in the heat of the moment that I would regret in the hindsight that kicks in immediately following the afterglow of sex. Well, to this day, and as I write this. No such regret has hit me. He and I both called my asshole a pussy, and each calling of it as such sparked the word-perv in me, and got me closer to getting off.

Hindsight being 20/20 may not have given me regret, but it did teach me something. It taught me that the annoyance (expressed in a article I wrote 2 1/2 years ago) with guys calling my asshole any other names besides an asshole did not pertain to someone calling it a pussy. My annoyance was more about those idiotic names like "mussy", "bussy", "man-gina", "boy-pussy" were names that were made up as an attempt to gender an asshole --- a body part that is not specific to a gender.

I said in "A Sexually Geeky's Why I Heart Sex", when one refers to a vagina as a "pussy", they are often speaking of it as a female's canal to receive and give pleasure to the sex partner. During anal sex, when done right, the asshole does the same thing. However, I see now that I stayed away from calling one's asshole a pussy out of respect for allowing women to have a name for their unique body part that is a means for sexual pleasure for them. After all, females have had enough taken away from them by cisgendered males for millenniums. Plus, we cisgendered males have a dick, which the head of is actually the equivalent of a female's clitoris. So how would most males feel if women started referring to their clit as a dick? Many males would probably feel like females are trying to claim something that is unique to a male as their own, even if that is not their intention at all.  I see a male calling his asshole a pussy the same way. Hence why if you've followed my writing long enough, you have read me referring to my means for anal pleasure by the term "ass tunnel".

So while I have no regrets about my playmate referring to my asshole as a pussy, me referring to it as such myself, or me getting pleasure from either, out of the respect for women I spoke of in the previous paragraph, I won't be making it a habit of calling my asshole a pussy. I'll enjoy it in that moment, then move on.

I'm Nearing Half a Century,....NOT Nearing Ugly, Asexual, or Impotent

Especially by gay nightlife and gay media, being 30+ is treated like a death sentence. Well, as I turn 47 on March 31, 2018, this is my decree as to how I beg to differ and why.

No Longer Mr. Handsome NYC

Back in June, I won the title of Mr. Handsome NYC.

Part of my requirements as winner is to throw a fundraiser. I was all for this. In fact, I started contacting possible sponsors like immediately after winning. However, my selection and what was promised by those possible sponsors was looked upon as bare-boned. My search for sponsors was so brief because I was unaware of how much went into doing such a fundraiser, since I had never done such a thing. Plus in this case, I was unaware that the money for the benefiting organization did not come from a portion of admission. So with my writing 3 blogs, doing appearances, and as a union brother reminded me when I posted about this matter on Facebook, 1 or 2 union bargaining sessions each month since my day job unionized, there is no time for me to take on such an undertaking.

I offered the host, Hunteur that instead of doing a fundraiser, to simply host one night of the Handsome NYC party where I could choose a theme, decent porn, and music to set the mood. I believe since I had never done a fundraiser before, hosting a party night would me a much more reasonable dip of my toe in the water or organizing an event than adding fundraising to those duties.

Well, my offer to simply host a party was denied. So I was instead asked for the return on my crown, which is fine by me.

 For being the perfectionist that I am, I saw the crash-course offered of how to make a fundraiser being against my work ethic. I need to have the time to give my all. I was given a full year of my reign to make that fundraiser happen, but with all that I am presently doing, it would have still been a rush job to do an entire fundraiser.

Furthermore, I can't work with my position in gay nightlife being misconstrued as it was. For it was believed that I was greatly involved in gay nightlife. This is a great misconception that could have been avoided by paying close attention to my writing, and what kind of notoriety and lack of notoriety it results in.

For anyone who really takes note of what I write would realize what I write about gay nightlife is from the position of being an observer. Not by any means do my writings show me to be "connected" on such a friendly level with anyone in gay nightlife to be considered "involved". If I was, then how come after all of these years of blogging about gay nightlife have I never received a Glam Award nomination? Exactly. So entertaining that misconception was an added pressure I won't allow. Nor am I under any obligation to prove or disprove it.

Looking back on this, I realize now that part of the reason for the lack of contestants which allowed me to win that contest by default might be because of another reason besides the pretentiousness in gay NYC now. I feel the lack of contestants might be because possible contestants know someone who has done fundraising already. Thereby giving the potential contestant knowledge that I didn't have. They already knew about the barrage of emailing and back and forth that must be done for a fundraiser where the money to the beneficiary does not come from the admission. Either that, or they don't have the online following to feel confident in doing as much as host a party like I had offered. So they bowed out of the idea of competing. With that said, I believe that if the responsibilities after winning are scaled down some, then contestants who sign up (then actually show up) might not be so hard to come by.

In any case, I hope the best of luck to my alternate. I'll get the crown back to Hunteur when I'm out and about at that time. As for those who showed me such support before, during, and after winning the contest, I give to you a WHOLEHEARTED THANK YOU. 💋

I'm Mr. Handsome NYC 2017

This past Wednesday, I took part in a contest held at the NYC club, Paddles. It was to crown a winner to be named Mr. Handsome NYC 2017.

If you're any degree a loyal follower of this blog, then you're probably aware that Handsome NYC is the name of a sex party held Wednesday nights at Paddles, and at Rainbow Playground on Sundays. And yes, this contest is from the same host.

A contest that I won.

Yes, I am the reigning Mr. Handsome NYC 2017.

The reason I kept silent about my participation in the contest is because:
1) I didn't want to jinx my chances, and;
2) unlike contests like Mr. Nude York, in order to win, I wasn't reliant upon fan attendance to counter the white/light favoring and black fetishizing racism in much of NYC's gay nightlife patronage. The Mr. Handsome NYC Contest was chosen by a panel of judges. Some of whom judged the Mr. Paddles contests that I've entered and lost in the past. Losses, like mine to Mr. Paddles 2016 Mickey Carpathio, which I know I deserved.

Well this time, I am at last a contest winner. And being a winner in most pageant-like contests, there is a responsibility to be carried out by me. Such is the case with this contest.

For during my reign as Mr. Handsome NYC 2017, I have the responsibility of hosting at least one fundraising party at Paddles.

So yes, this will be my chance to as I have always considered, to host a sex party. In my mind, I am already choosing music to play, and video clips to show during the party. All I need now is a charity or organization to benefit, and then to set a date.

So THANKS to the producer, MC, judges, contestants, and all of my supporters, past, present, and future.

And once I choose this fundraiser's charity and set a date, if you're in NYC, I do hope to see you there. Fucking for a fuckin' good cause!

Let me close with this Facebook post of news of my post-win celebrating.

This story should not come as a surprise. After all, I was at Paddles.

My crown from winning the Mr. Handsome NYC 2017 Contest held on 6/21/2017.

A post shared by LeNair Xavier (@lenairxavier) on Jun 22, 2017 at 6:18am PDT