Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Expendable Gay Male

Why are so many gay males single?

It is a question often asked, but no one seems to have a real concrete answer. And if they do come up with one, they often do the talk, but not the walk. Well, while I am not perfect, I plan on letting this post show that what I say here comes from being both the wronged, as well as the wrong-doer. So I have learned my lesson. And by the end of this post, you'll learn how we can discuss this further in person.

Whether you meet a guy in a bar/club, at a sex party or backroom, or via an online hook-up it has become a norm that we have come to accept and display behavior to one another that says:

"I got horny, hit you up online (or left the bar/club with you), fucked, and never thought that for one second I owed you the courtesy of treating you like anything more than a hole to stick my dick in and/or a stick to tickle the nerve endings in my ass tunnel with. So excuse me for acting like that moment and night never happened, and/or not remembering your name. It's because in short, you weren't human to me. You were an expendable object simply there to satisfy my horniness. And I used you because I got sick and fuckin' tired of using my hand and sex toys. And for some unforeseen reason, you just happened to be a hole or stick that came with a pulse."

And hook-up websites and apps have only exasperated this problem. For they take away the face-to-face human interaction once required for a hook-up, which made us more human, therefore less often seen as expendable. Also, many gay males lessen their manhood by saying things like a guy named Douglas said to me,"Hey, it's a hook-up site. You take it too literally and too personally. It is what is and will always be just that. It's not the Love Connection with Chuck Woolery."

Keep in mind that Douglas is a minister-in-training. So with an attitude like that to exonerate himself from being dismissive of one's time, body, and emotions in a hook-up, only a fool would go to his ministry. For his statement is waaaay less embodying of those of a man worth being called a "minister". But I digress.

Anyway, just because the idea of dismissing the person as existing after doing the deed is considered "protocol", that doesn't make it right.

(If you think it does, come to my discussion on 1/23/15 and I'll give you an indisputable example to solidify this point.)

Now, I'm not saying that after a hook-up that you have to date, then call a realtor, because you're immediately a couple. What I am saying is that from the moment that guy either clicks on your online profile, approaches you at a sex party, touches you in a backroom, lust for you in a bar/club, or so much as kisses you in any of the aforementioned places, it is your God-ordained right to demand that he remembers the fact that first and foremost, YOU ARE A HUMAN BEING. So after sex, he should not be allowed to treat a Fleshlight or Tenga Flip-Hole with more respect than he treats you.

And if it's not those instances that gay males are using as a means to treat one another as expendable. It's circumstances like color/ethnicity, age, and even HIV status.

I've went over color/ethnicity enough times that I don't have to go there in great detail right now. If you're new to this blog, you can easily click on one of the links under "Category", and you can easily find stories to support how we are ostracizing each other for no good reason.

The same can also be said regarding HIV status as a means to treat one another as disposable. I also went over this in great detail in the blog post, "The 'Are You Clean?' Challenge".

What many gays don't seem to realize is that all of this ostracizing makes for bad Karma. Bad Karma punishing us for that dehumanizing treatment, which in turn makes many gay males end up alone. And Karma being the tricky bitch that she is will get you. For even after you think you've found the "love of your life", Karma makes you pay by taking that love away. It's payback for however many times you didn't show simple human courtesy to a person you shared your body with.

There is always that parent, family member, former friend, or job that distances themselves from us after we come out. However, that cannot be used as an excuse as to why so many gay males do it to each other, then end up alone and lonely in our old age. We have to start breaking the cycle of belittling.

And it won't stop until we address how it exist, and act humanely to one another to counter it. Hence why I will be continuing this in a discussion I'm moderating on January 23rd at the LGBT Center in NYC. There I will give more details to my stories, and give you the floor to tell some of your own. So until then....

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Don't Disrespect This Fuck!

Due to how much I see poppers as a sign of a continuing sexually social epidemic within the gay community despite our present ongoing social acceptance, I have made it no secret of my disdain for them. To the point that I have made the vow to myself to never date a guy who uses them. And I believe this poem clearly explains why.

This sentiment is further explained in my poem, "Poppered Preacher". It's a poem about a minister-in-training who I was recently involved with. If you read my Tumblr blog post on Calling Out Ass Holes that was an open letter to the church he attends, then you have the foundation for that poem already in your minds. So I hope you will let yourself be enlightened by that poem as well.

Now, if you feel either of these poems made the gay community looked bad to the mostly heterosexual audience it was presented to, since I made it clear that I myself don't use them, that's not my fault. That is an issue that needs to be taken up with the user(s) of poppers that you are the most familiar with. So this problem will stop, thereby making me no longer need to address it. And if you're one of those users, then your ill-will towards these poems is your calling to STOP.

Friday, December 5, 2014

I ♥ Sex with Extremes

It's been quite awhile since I've told a tale about my sexcapades at a Daniel Nardicio party. So this is what happened to me recently at Daniel Nardicio's Horn of Plenty.

I knew before hand that I was going to strip down and walk around in either my underwear or totally naked. It was just a matter of when. It got delayed because a guy came up and started talking to me. He wasn't initially one of my preferred types, but I thought to give him a chance to work his way into being so. That didn't work out so well.

The conversation started out great. His flattery and all of that was working. That is until we're weren't talking for 10 minutes yet, and already he reached down my jeans to feel my ass. In a place like The Cock, that's good timing. Plus, he did ask for consent. Then what's the problem?...He asked while he his hand was already down my jeans, and not before. But for some reason, unlike with past intruders upon my personal space, I was polite. I didn't use my words of truth about his lacking social skills as a means to drill through his skin, flesh, then bone, then turn his heart into string by ripping it out through the hole. Although his actions gave me every right to do so. For this reason, when he decided to go get a drink, while I could have done like most guys, and used him for a free drink to pay for his bad manners, I instead went elsewhere.

And that's when the fun of my night began.

First, I got undressed. Because at a Daniel Nardicio party, I tend to feel way overdressed in any degree of shirt and pants. Even if it was summer time, wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts would be too much for me. So I stripped down to my jockstrap.

I ran into a guy I fooled around with before at the ManMeat NYC parties. At that party, he topped me. And we knew we still wanted each other. So we slipped into a dark corner, and made out. Then he started positioning himself. I saw that ass that I was groping when he was fucking me missionary at that sex party. This time however, he was offering it for me to enter. So I took the obligation and topped him. I would have shot my load if it wasn't for the big White guy who kept touching me even though I was politely moving his hand off of me.

After that playmate left, I met another guy. He was a White guy over 6 feet tall. We kept giving each other quick glances and smiles. After awhile, I realized that he was like me ----shy. So I upped the ante on our conversation. I wasn't sure if it was just conversation, or conversation leading to some kind of sexual play. It became clear once he decided to tell me that he was a bottom. I figured that he might have told me that because with our height difference, a guy my height of 5'6" courting him might most likely want him to be their top. Well, truth be told, I was game for that if he was.

We went to the bathroom together only to find a bunch of other guys there. He obviously didn't care as he immediately squatted down, pulled my dick out of my jockstrap, and sucked away. And he was actually very good. Good enough that I wish there was enough room to bend him over, and fuck his ass. While a blowjob to me whether I'm the giver or receiver is an invitation to fuck, in this case, it would have also been my way to say "Thank you, Baby. You earned my dick in you."

While I was getting sucked, someone was touching me. I looked up to see who was touching me, and it was this good-looking short Latino I noticed earlier. But once I started raising my head, he immediately stopped. And I never had a chance to give him a bad look. And I wouldn't anyway. Because once I saw it was him, I was all for it. So after he stopped, I reached out for him. Once he came over to me, he got behind me, and grinded against my ass while the other guy continued sucking my dick. I reached behind me to feel the Latino's ass. It was nice, juicy, and so smooth. I never said it, but it made me want his dick. Then he pulled back for a moment. I heard the rip of a packet I figured was a condom, then after a pause, he started feeling for my asshole. Once he found it, he put on a spit lube. So it was like he read my mind.

I wasn't sure if getting fucked in the ass would kill my hard-on from the guy sucking me. For in the past, I would lose a hard-on once my ass got penetrated. The only way my dick stayed hard was by taking a male enhancement pill. But even then, there was no way I was going to orgasm.
However, since my job gave me those Aneros prostate massagers for my birthday, even though I've masturbated with each of them at least 1 time apiece, just like the brain that governs it, my body is a quick learner. For it seems that my orgasms while playing with my 5 Aneros toys has taught my body to do something that I couldn't even promise porn producers like Michael Lucas ----I can now orgasm while being penetrated. However, this was the first time I would probably find out if I could shoot a load while being fucked by an actual person.

Well, with each thrust from the Latino, I felt myself getting closer and closer to shooting my cum load in the White guy's mouth. And just as I was nearing the point of no return...another interruption. This time, it was a tall Asian that I've seen there before being his usually socially awkward self.

The surface thinking part of me feels sorry for guys like the Asian and the big White guy I mentioned earlier. Meanwhile, the deep-thinker looks at the big picture and gets pissed off to near violence. For I realize that just how I made the choice to be sexually repressed because of my strict Christian upbringing, they made the choice to live a life where they either don't get out much, live a life contrary to their sexual nature, are out of shape so few people want them, follow the rules of some sexual repressive cultures, or what have you. So whatever the case may be, with them being adults, satisfying them for their self-induced shortcomings is not my fuckin' problem!

Even though those interruptions made me have to go home and beat off before going to sleep, my night put a smile on my face. For I had a tall guy on his knees to suck my cock, and a guy shorter than me fucking my ass. 2 things that many initially assume should happen the other way around. I like using my exhibitionism to make people think outside of what they were taught to be "the norm". So the fact this sex education moment was happening for everyone in that bathroom to see....made it more of a turn on. ;-)

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

I'll Fix That Bitch...With A Porn Cover?!

During a recent Friday night outing with friends, they told me of how they came across a DVD that had me on the cover on TLA.com's porn section of the website. I reminded them that I was on the cover for one of my movies. Its title was "The Booth". The picture of me had lousy coloring, which matches how the lack of chemistry between me and the scene partner I wound up having sex with made it a lousy scene.

Well, it turns out that wasn't the DVD they were speaking of. It was a compilation DVD. Now, I am aware that there is a compilation DVD out there with one or more of my scenes on it. I've know of this DVD for at least a couple of years now, but I'm not on the cover. I told them this, and they responded by telling me that the compilation DVD they were speaking of was new.

Sunday, I finally got around to going to TLA Video's website to search for this DVD. So I typed my old porn name, "Tre Xavier", and a line of thumbnails pop up,...with the first thumbnail being of this compilation DVD my friends mentioned, with a picture of me and Shorty J on the front. A photo I fondly remember being taken the day we shot our scene together for the movie "The Interview". I then clicked on the thumbnail, and when I put the mouse over the image, it showed the backcover. And what do you think I found?

It turns out...I was large on the backcover as well.
Surrounded by a bunch of screenshots. Enough screenshots to conclude that at least 3 of my 10 scenes from my porn career are on that DVD.

Also, not only is it new. TLA Video isn't shipping it out until December 5th. So my friends were right, it is new. Not the scenes, but the compilation. Because the scenes that I saw screenshots of on the cover are from movies I did 7 or 8 years ago. That point must be made clear because some might think that everyone on that DVD is still in the business. Meanwhile, I can definitely tell you how for myself, that is damn sure not the case. I officially bid the porn industry "adieu" a little over 5 years ago.

Moments like this is why I've been urging guys for years that if they want to get in the porn industry that this is what they have to expect. I knew all of the following facts beforehand, but this is the first time I'm actually experiencing it myself. Facts like:
     The fact that you have no control over your image.
     The fact that you have so little control that if the studio owning it allows use of your image, while the studio gets paid, you will never get a single penny for that photo, or your scene.
     The fact that the industry is so plagued with self-serving fuckheads that they will never consult you as to whether or not they can use your image. So if you want your porn persona to disappear, it will never happen. For your desires in the situation are irrelevant to them.

Keep in mind that since my departure from the porn industry, I have been very vocal about the shadiness of it by telling fact like that, as well as the poor social skills of director Tyson Cane. For this reason, I suspect that my being so vocal about those shortcomings is why my image was used. This is not me having a case of overblown ego and paranoia. It's because both the front and back cover photos of me are from photoshoots I did with Tyson Cane. And I know as much as the industry tries to downplay my existence, for mainly them, my name has become synonymous with citing the wrongs of their industry. So I think my image showing up on that DVD cover was way more than just a "he's a hot guy" reasoning. I suspect it was more a "I'll show that bitch for getting on a high horse about us - let's make his past with us a fact he can't escape!" reasoning.

Well, I'm blessed in regards to the fact that I have never tried to hide my porn past. In fact, I've used it to get me on the road I am on now. Such as my presently working at the high-end sex shop, The Pleasure Chest. Working there gives me less reason to need that past buried. Probably an unlikely scenario if I was still working at the law firm of Kenyon & Kenyon LLP. So the only weird part of it is how my co-workers can so easily see my endowment...and Tyson Cane's caking on of make-up and excessive photoshop for porn actors in his movies.

So am I mad about this. Truth be told, with all I have said, I'm one part flattered, another part pissed (simply for the motive I suspect is at play), and another part glad that contrary to Tyson Cane's size-queen antics, the world now sees that I actually do have a nice-sized cock. One that a good number of guys have before & since found addictive and pleasurable. ;-)

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Sex Party Etiquette: Don't Play Condom Police

I recently attended a Hot Milk NYC sex party, and something happened that really annoyed me.

As soon as I walked in the door, I saw this short, older guy with a fit body wearing a jockstrap. He looked at me with a welcoming stare. And looking at his body, I immediately told myself, "We're gonna fuck."

After I got checked in and undressed, I went to the play area. He was immediately all over me. He obviously was into being hardcore, with grabbing, pulling my ass cheeks apart, and pulling on my nipples. I was getting turned off, and stopped him. So for a moment, I thought that my initial summation of what would transpire between us wasn't going to happen after all.

I decided to go take a break and get a drink. He was there, and seeing my ass in my jockstrap, he came over and whispered to me, "Damn, you have a nice ass.

"Thank you", I replied.

"Yeah. Man, I'd fuck the shit out of you."

Since it's been so long since I bottomed, if he changed his aggressiveness in the next few minutes, I would have been more than willing to see if he was all talk. Well, my wish came true. About his degree of aggressiveness at least.

For later, he came back at me. He was calmer, not as physically aggressive. Being appreciative of this change, plus feeling that bare ass while making out with him, I got tired of waiting to fuck. So we laid on this blanket on the floor. But I wasn't the bottom. He was. For he grabbed my cock, put it inside him, and rode it for a little bit, but I wasn't comfortable. So we changed positions. He got on all fours, and I fucked him from behind. While I was topping him, he went down to lay his stomach, and I fucked his ass, with his soft ass cheeks hitting against my groin. He then changed position again. This time making do a pile driver. Each position made my dick get rock hard feeling his ass while fucking his hole. During all of this, the area was getting darker and darker because of guys crowding around, whose attention was most likely brought onto us because of this guy's verbal bottoming.

Immediately after, this guy, a total stranger, came up to me and asked, "Did you use a condom?"

It took every fiber of my being to not pimp-slap that fool. So me proceeding to the bathroom to do my ritual washing of myself after sex at a sex party whether I used a condom or not in addition to being sanitary, became a means to distract myself from this guy's intrusiveness.

For who was this person to ask me if I had used a condom? My best friends don't even ask me that question when I tell them of my sexual escapades. So with this guy being a total stranger, you know he was out of line. Plus after his previous attempt to touch me earlier, my kind removal of his hand made it obvious that I wasn't interested in him. Well, if there was any hope of me changing my mind, that intrusion by trying to play Condom Police put that possibility on permanent lockdown. For him being a stranger asking me if I had used a condom made him go from being a somebody to a NOBODY.

Even if he knew who is was from this blog, then he would have known that I stand by my sentiment that condom use is a matter of choice. So if I used a condom, that's my choice. If I didn't use a condom, that's my choice, too. And God forbid something happens after, then I will have to deal with the fallout. And I have made it my reputation to publicly own my fuck-ups. However, no matter what possessed him to ask me about my condom use, he was way the hell out of line.

Keeping the fact in mind that we are adults, and condom use being a matter of choice, if you're going to host a sex party, you can state whether or not you want safer-sex, barebacking, or both at your party. And as adults most would and should comply. In your home, yes. Doing at a venue, if you're going to assign people to be the Condom Police, then you're going too far, and shouldn't be a sex party host. For rules about condom use should be reported by the patron who was approached or initially unknowingly entered by a rule-breaker, and no one else. Not an eyewitness, because that eyewitness could simply be an envious queen wanting the dick/ass they've been denied because of that patron having sex telling them "no", or because of their own shyness to approach the person.

So I know some of you are still wondering as to whether or not I used a condom. Well, if I put it on blast that this guy being a stranger made him out of line, and that my real world best friends don't even ask such a question, then it's safe to say that you shouldn't even bother asking. For no disrespect, but you, my virtual friends are just a step above a stranger. So my silence on the matter is not out of shame. It's merely me guarding my personal space.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Don't Tell Me Not

Don’t tell me not to talk about sex
All of you fuck, and my talk is not so much to boast
Dirty as my talk might sometimes be
It’s meant for you to learn the most
As we live in this repressive society
Where “sex” is such a dirty word
That even couples need an arbitrator
So that their desire of one another is heard

I also talk about sex to undo the brainwashing
That we for centuries have been told
Sexual roles based on gender, orientation, and ethnicity
Can finally be broken from their poisonous mold
To see a woman’s vagina is a cherished passage for passion
 The sexuality spectrum has more colors than initially figured
And a Black male has the smarts to be a man
And not imitate porn playing “gorilla nigger”

So don’t tell me not to talk about racism
Showing yourself to be a racially insensitive bitch
For you wouldn’t want me to tell you to be quiet
If the power dynamic suddenly switched
Where my black skin made me perceived most beautiful
And intellectually treated to be the superior
Meanwhile, no matter how smart and beautiful you are in the eyes of God
I say you’re shit on the sole of my shoe, and inferior

You were hoping I was one of those Blacks
Weak enough for you to guilt into silence
Calling me “another angry Black man” to dismiss me
…But that only justifies my verbal violence
The only reason my violence is verbal and not physical
Besides you talking computer bold, instead of face to face
Is due to my faith in the God to whom I pray
So this is the point you should be on your knees
For it’s because of Him you see another day

So don’t tell me not to talk about God
Showing yourself to be insecure and unsafe
For if I’m not force-feeding you about religion
Only one thing makes you want to silence talk of my faith
You want to bathe in your arrogance
Believing all you do and have is all thanks to you
Like your every breath, every accomplishment, and wish come true
Well, if there’s a Judgment Day, you’ll be shown the truth

So don’t tell me not to talk about matters
That are staring us all in the face
For your insensitivity and lack of compassion
Is making your every breath a disgrace
So when God a.k.a. Karma beats you down
Taking away a loved life, material wealth, or physical prowess
Though none of that will be wished upon you
I will not shed a single tear
For I will become a link in the chain of insensitivity that you birthed
So it finally becomes clear
That if you do not stop trying to silence my truths

You will have plenty of comeuppance to fear

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Mr. Big Fuck


Porn has taught you that your big dick
Will make the gay boys and straight girls swoon
Well, stepping to me with porn as your teacher
Is going to be your doom

I’m going to read you as to how lame you are
It’s a truth overdue to unfurl
I’ll tell of your cockiness laced with lacking skill
Shaming you to the world

You think all you need to do is poke a hole with your pole
And from the pleasure, I’ll quiver and quake
Bitch, me doing fake moaning like that of a porno
Is the only thing keeping me the fuck awake!
Invent some moves, learn the definition of “rhythm”
Instead of being a citizen of Rhythm-LESS Nation
For what you give is far from pleasure
Instead, they’re annoying, awkward sensations

You snicker at the guy with a 5” dick
Still thinking your bigger is better
Well, he makes me moan in bliss for real
And sweat fine like a swine
So the bed ends up a hell of a lot wetter
I am horny to take his 5” again
After being bored to tears by your 11
For he knows how to work that 5
And take me to Heaven

Maybe you’re used to sluts that don’t do Kegels
Loosey-goosey holes wide like the Grand Canyon
After letting porn tell them, “Go big! Go wide! Go long!”
So to feel anything, big just laying there is enough to stand
Trust me, the problem is not me, it’s you
I do my Kegels all the time
So explain why I’m bored out of my gourd
Meanwhile, my tightness blows your mind

Mr. Big Fuck
Who do you think you are?
Mr. Big Fuck?!
You said your big dick would take me to the stars
Well, Mr. Big Fuck
Try getting a refund on the porn you used for sex ed
Because Mr. Big Fuck
The only think big besides your dick is your ego
And neither are good enough for my bed
____________________________________________________

Yes, porn especially has repeatedly told us that when it comes to cock size, "bigger is better". Well, to be honest, I have been bored out of my fucking mind while filming the scenes with 2 of the biggest dicks I've ever worked with Tamar Tyson in "The Booth", and gay-for-pay bitch in denial Double R from "Love of The Dick IV". And I must sight "Love of The Dick IV" because it is a movie too many are gullible enough to believe that to have been a hot scene of mine.

These 2 moronic directors are not the only ones who thought that these guys were very likely good fucks because of their "big dicks". Too many porn movies have been made to push this idea along, and I have slammed them in the process as well. With that said, proof of how bigger is not always better is 1)how I never raved about the sex with Tamar Tyson, and 2)contrary to a blog post I wrote for Pitbull Productions some years ago, know that I was paid to blog for Pitbull Productions, and the truth is the sex with Double R was FUCKIN' LOUSY. Hence why I made him the model for the avatar for the Soundcloud file of "Mr. Big Fuck".

Now, not all guys with big dicks are lousy fucks. After all, I did write "The Great Gotten From Gotti" about how good Favian Gotti's big dick was. The problem is that those of us with tight enough holes and skill (few of us as they are) can all agree that we have had way more Double Rs than we have had Favian Gottis.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Phone Slave

On September 29th, the proof of me needing to write and present this poem couldn't have been more evident. Not only on the NYC trains and streets while going to, while at, and going home from work. But cellphone use has gotten so out of hand that it was even at disrespectful levels within the audience at The Inspired Word open mic at which I debuted the poem.

First, when me and my guest sat down in a booth, a girl to my right was texting away while a performer was onstage. I initially felt offended for the performer on stage. That is until that performer got off the stage, then by chance I turned around to see that performer had left the stage to sit in a booth behind us, ...texting away while the next performer was onstage. It was blatant disrespect from one performer to another.

Sadly, this disrespect and loyalty to cellphones over human beings is not only seen at open mic events. They can be seen in every kind of show, in every means of travel, and in relationships. Hence why so many relationships are doomed to fail. It's really sad that this is what we have become. And I hope the lyrics of my poem made that clear, and we start a needed change within ourselves because of it.

Why are you such slaves to your phones?
Has it ever crossed your minds?
That it’s the reason you’re single and lonely
Letting it consume so much attention and time
You can’t walk down the street
Or climb up and down a flight of stairs
Without letting that damn smartphone
Get priority of your stare
Do you need to kiss the grill of a Mack truck
To make you finally stop being blind?
It’s scary to think it might take such a catastrophe
To make you prioritize your eyes and mind

And since such is the case
It is a damn shame
That it’s your phone that’s smart
But you can’t say the same
Maybe you should buy it an engagement ring
Maybe make it your spouse
Try living happily ever after
You and it alone in a big old house
So how will you consummate this marriage?
Once you and it have tied the knot
Groom shocks his dick fucking the charging hole?
Bride lets the phone vibrate in her twat?

Call my words vulgar
Call them crude
Doesn’t change how much they are the truth
And I will not change a single lyric
As long as you show you’re socially sick
Hoping folks see you engulfed on your status symbol
Thinking it makes you cool
But in reality, you’ve just shown yourself
To be a robotic, socially inept, fuckin’ fool!

For you hold onto your phone
Before you hold your child’s hand
Letting you children run wild
Without a single reprimand
Through the streets, through stores, or through a church
Where they’re going and what they’re doing, you’re totally unaware
Makes one wonder are they really yours
Hence why you don’t seem to care
You dismiss the blessing of children
And how they are to be adored
So what’s your excuse when they act out
From the years your “parenting” left them ignored?

We put on this façade like we’re so evolved
Yet we’re worst than prehistoric man
For this servitude to technology like camping outside stores
Makes closeness only LOOK bundled in our hand
Meanwhile, the human connect is getting out of reach
Creating many desperate social acts
We look and read the news wondering how and why
We became an age burdened with these sad facts
It’s because so many, too many of you are Phone Slaves
Clutching your phone like it’s your life and heart
Refusing to see the signs
Of how it’s tearing your life apart

Stop living a life of social silence by texting
Actually TALK to your family, friends, and lover
For if we don’t maintain our social skills
The growth of this Age of Anger by Loneliness
Is what we make ourselves doomed to discover

Thursday, September 25, 2014

A Good Fuck's Toying Voices

I have for the longest been trying to get out to the bi-weekly erotic storytelling open mic event open to all sexual orientations in Manhattan called Foreplay! A Sexy Storytelling Open Mic. Well, this past Monday, I finally made it out there.

It can be hard to see some of my movements to enhance my story in the video below. Hence why my sole issue was with the lighting. However, even with that being the case, it was a great event. With everyone respecting and showing love for your story, even if your orientation differed from theirs. So I most definitely plan to go back.

With all that, I know you're wondering what my story was about. Well, it was mainly about the conflicting voices in our heads that toy with us when we're on the verge of good (maybe even great) sex. To tell that tale I relived some naughty moments I had with a go-go boy that I initially met while go-go dancing at a NYC gay bar not too far from this venue. A NYC gay bar that a friend in the audience quipped, "rhymes with 'The Rock'".

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Sex Party Etiquette: I Hit YOU Up, NOT You & THAT!

How many times have you went online for a hook-up, and when a guy you've wanted responds, especially after a number of miss chances, you get a message saying, "I'm here with 'so-and-so'. Come join..."?

Burying your annoyance deep inside because truth be told, when you hit the person up, you wanted him...alone.

So playing along with this makes you have to go to that other person's profile and see if they are of interests to you. And sometimes they're not. However, whether it's out of extreme horniness or you felt a connection beyond sexual that's so strong in your interaction with that initial person, that in spite of that voice in your head saying that other person is a bad idea, you agree to meet up. That is actually how my last "Sex Party Etiquette" post started out.

Me and the host spoke a few times before, but nothing came to fruition. Then we had an exchange before I went out the door that night. On my way home, out of boredom, I went to the website on my phone, and saw he finally responded to the message I sent after a couple of hours later. Don't you fuckin' hate that? So like too many guys, he dragged his feet in replying. And they wonder why they end up alone when they don't respect someone else's time. I mean, just because someone is a one-night stand, that doesn't make them any less human, or their time any less valuable.

Anyway, when I replied back to that message, he replied telling me in the body of the message that he had the other guy there --- the guy who would later become the ill-mannered, popper-addicted asswipe of "Mi Casa AIN'T Su Casa, Bitch!"

Why is this wrong?

Because when you hit someone up online, unless it is a couple's profile, you are looking for that one single person ALONE. Not that person and somebody else. When you open up an email to read its body all to discover that somebody else is already there, even if we don't want to admit it to them or ourselves, we feel cheated. And we have every right to feel as such. 

The reason we won't admit to feeling cheated is because this degree of self-loathing by accommodating those invitations to 3-ways without question has become a sad degree of normal. With that said, before I continue, let me include calling out myself as a perpetrator of this self-loathing, ignorant behavior. So when the opportunity presents itself, we and the hosts both continue the chain of selfishness and self-loathing in ourselves, and we enable the selfishness of these hosts.

This is especially true if you and/or the host is drunk/high on something. Be it alcohol, marijuana, poppers, or harder drugs, because your brains are not right. So if you have a normal code of decency that makes you think about your self-worth, as well as the feelings of other people involved, lust plus that chemical(s) are going to impair your judgment.

Some might be quick to say that this post was written out of spite, because of the bad experience from my last "Sex Party Etiquette" post. Well, let me tell you how you're quite wrong. If anything, that bad experience opened my eyes to look at the root of that situation, and how far back that bad root dated. It made me see how I've always felt slighted by someone offering me an invitation when there's already someone else there. For proper etiquette would be to indicate that other person's presence beforehand by the host telling it in his profile, or in the subject line of his email.  However, due to their mishandling, I always felt that all of those hosts snuck that information about that other person in the body of the email because subconsciously they knew they were being selfish at my (and maybe the other person's) expense.

These hosts know they're trying to trap you. They knew you really want only them. But they want to have their cake and eat it too. So they feel if they build your anticipation up enough, when they spring that other person on you, you'll want them so much that you won't say "No"...like you should. And that is how I ended up in that fix. Me led by a person with a weak and selfish mind to show myself having a moment of a weaker mind. Well, those days are gone. Hence why I am writing this post.

This post is meant to let you know that such a person is looking to boost their sexual ego at your expense. And for that, their ego needs to be deflated. So the next time you receive an invitation where another party is not told to you beforehand by the person's profile, or subject line of their message, drop them like a hot potato. For they deserve to be taught that lesson of how you are a human being. One who also has a craving for intimacy. Intimacy where you should not be tricked into the idea of "three's company". Intimacy where, at least for the initial encounter, the old saying still applies...of how "Two's company, and three's a crowd."

Friday, September 12, 2014

Diversity Rules Talks To Me


In the May 2013 issue of Diversity Rules Magazine, they published my poem, "Seeing Me Before I". Well, this September they are back with their podcast on BlogTalkRadio called Diversity Rules Magazine On The Air. And its host and magazine editor, Jim Koury has invited me to be a guest.

I have no idea what topics we're going to discuss. 
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/diversityrulesmagazine/2014/09/18/lenair-xavier-joins-diversity-rules-magazine-on-the-airAll I know is that I told Jim that NO TOPIC IS OFF LIMITS. However, I have made some suggestions of some under-discussed things in the gay community that I have named on this blog, my Facebook, and Twitter, but I will not name them here.

Also, PLEASE take advantage of the chance to call in to the show, or post questions and comments on the show's Facebook page. I know you have questions about the many positions I've been vocal about. So whether you agree, disagree, or simply want to know more, this will be your chance to have me give some level of a response.

I hope you'll tune in, and I also hope to hear from you. And if by chance you miss it live, don't worry. You will have a chance to hear it afterwards. Until Wednesday.... 

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Movie Review: PRIDE

This past Thursday, thanks to Leslie Lohman Museum of Gay & Lesbian Art, I attended a screening of a movie coming out in selected cities of September 26th entitled, PRIDE.

PRIDE is based on a true story that I must admit that knew nothing about. It's synopsis reads:

Realizing that they share common foes in Margaret Thatcher, the police and the conservative press, London-based gays and lesbians lend their support to striking miners in 1984 Wales.

When Mark Ashton (played by Ben Schnetzer) originally proposes the idea of Lesbians & Gays Supports the Miners, many gays in the room turned their backs and left. Feeling miners have done nothing for gays, so why should gays stand up for them. This gave me a sad moment thinking to how 30 years later, this is a lesson the gay community still needs to learn. For it brought to my mind how I quite recently addressed in a blog post where I called out gay media on how they demand acceptance from the mainstream media and arts, but when an all-inclusive event that should get gay support presents itself, 30 years later, gay media's actions still show the attitude of "why should we bother?". In short, the movie addresses how we all need to get over our "whoa is me" attitudes, by simply support one another. Thereby lessening the sadness of the woes. To the point that the woes may soon be gone. For whatever your community, you are never the only ones struggling.

This message was in my opinion very well-written by Stephen Beresford and directed by Matthew Warchus, with humor in just the right places to make a serious message, and under-discussed part of gay culture not create a downer of a movie.

Speaking of humor, a lot of the hilarity that ensues is when the London gays and lesbians are questioned by those in the mining town of Wales about whether or not many of the stories they've been told about gays and lesbians are actually true. Which makes for even greater laughs are times when this small group of gays & lesbians just happen to make some of the more positive theories seem like undeniable facts. Such as how at a gathering of the gays and miners, one of the more flamboyant gay characters, Jonathan (played by Dominic West) who was originally told to turn down his flamboyance, becomes such a hit with the ladies when he decides to get the party going with his dancing skills, that a couple of the straight miners decide they want to learn how to dance...A skill that works for them later on.

So with all that said, I highly recommend seeing PRIDE. It's almost 2 hours long, which for many movies these days creates a snooze-fest if it doesn't have action, explosions, and special effects to be used as filler. But in this case, PRIDE definitely holds your attention. Enough to the point that the action you might find because of this movie, might come after the movie. For this movie just might spark the activist in you.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Sex Party Etiquette - Mi Casa AIN'T Su Casa, Bitch!

Back in mid-June, those of you who are friends with me on Facebook might recall this update:
Then within 24 hours, that update led to this tweet on my Twitter:

So how does that Facebook update lead to that tweet from Twitter?

It's because the tweet is about one of the guys from the threesome,...who I came to regret inviting over to my place later that night. 

I started regretting giving this invitation early on. As you will see later, my regret started before his arrival to my apartment.

When you first walk into my apartment, to your left is the stove and the sink. There is a light hanging over that area. A light that you won't see once you walk to your right, because their is a little wall coming down from the ceiling blocking that light. My bed is more than 6 feet away from that area. So any heat from that light is not going to affect the temperature of my room if we're on my bed. Now, the same can't be said for the light fixture that is over my bed. But I was smart enough to turn that light out. So what does this guy says?

"You should turn out that kitchen light. Makes less heat."

Hearing this reminded me how he did that same type of thing during the threesome at that host's apartment. I can't remember exactly over what, but his saying that to me jarred my memory to what I felt that host should say when this ill-mannered jerk did it to him. 

For while I maintained my calm during both instances, my first thought was to say something along the lines of what I thought that other host should have said, which was, "Look here, you Poindexter mutha fucka! Don't you dare come into my home trying to give me a science lesson, telling me what lights to turn out in my house! If your ass got here on time, instead of your missing brain cells from sniffing those mutha fuckin' poppers letting you go 11 stops pass your stop before realizing you're going the wrong way, this apartment wouldn't have gotten this hot! Furthermore, you're not a friend, you're just a trick. So mi casa ain't su casa, bitch! Don't get it twisted!!!"

And yes, that was the part where my regret before he actually arrived began. For while I was waiting for him, I initially had my fan on to cool the room. However, the wait got so long that I fell asleep. And what woke me up was him texting me about being 11 stops pass the stop he assumed he was supposed to get off of. But with that, the cool night air that the fan was blowing had made me cold. So I cut the fan off. Hence why by the time he got there, my apartment was hot again.

I was so angry by his telling me what to do with my lights that I did something I never do with sex. I used sex for revenge. We flip-fucked with the sole purpose of me giving him good ass and good dick that he would want again, but would be denied. And as the "sex" went on he solidified me sticking to that plan.

For he sniffed so much poppers that he made me get a headache in my own apartment. Much to my chagrin, I've had guys do poppers in my apartment before. In fact, it might surprise you, but the guy from my video "Why It's 'WE Fucked'" used poppers. But he or no other guy was such a popper-addict like this jerk that in order to survive them being in my home that I would have to hold my breath each time they took a huff. And since this is my home, why should I have to hold my breath? This is my place to be free.

So he decided that he was going to top me. He was good for a bit, then like a common popper-head, the poppers made his dick go limp. So he had me in missionary position, boring to death trying to make out with me. Because by this point, the muscle-relaxing effect that makes poppers moronic to take had taken effect on his dick. So he wasn't doing a bit of thrusting because his dick was getting more and more limp. Therefore, slowly slipping out of my tight hole.

After I got tired of his popper-addicted presence giving me a headache in my own home, I decided it was time for this pathetic charade to end. So it might have seemed like a tired line, but it was all too true. I told him that I had a headache, and that I had no Advil or anything in the apartment to take for it. Therefore, I had to go to the store. Do you know what this ill-mannered, socially inept fucktard said next?

"Can I stay here and wait for you?"

Was this mutha fucka for real?! Now, either he: a) sniffed so much poppers that his brain cells were truly gone, b) was that ill-mannered and socially inept, that he had no idea as to when the fuckin' party was over, or c) a combination of a & b! First of all, considering the direction from which I later discovered that he came to my place from, there is no open mini-marts except right outside the train station, which is about a 10 - 15 minute walk away. So did he really think that I was going to leave him - an uncommon trick, a stranger - alone in my apartment for 20 - 30 minutes???!!!

Again, I have to say "Mi casa ain't su casa, bitch!"

So I replied, "No, you've gotta go." So we got dressed and I walked him to the train station. However, I felt so accomplished in getting him out of my apartment, my headache lightened up enough that I almost forgot to buy my Advil.

If you recall, I did punch a fucker across the room for invading my personal space that is my body. And I treat my home with the same amount of protection. So this guy, after all of what he did, he's lucky that he walked out of my place in one piece...

Well, his outer body might have been in one piece. But his brain and common sense is obviously fuckin' falling apart at the seams. And due to no one else's fault but his ignorant ass own!

Saturday, August 16, 2014

"Fuck, I'm Sexy": Blacks ARE Good Enough, Part 2

Gay nightlife promoter Daniel Nardicio recently posted this status update on Facebook:

I know that it was not what Daniel had in mind, but this status made me think about how saying to oneself "Fuck, I'm sexy" is something every non-White, especially those of medium to dark complexion must tell themselves everyday. And it's not out of stereotypical gay narcissism. Instead, it is because the racism plaguing our community and society will make those of us with medium and dark complexions feel worthless if I we allow the sexual racism that's fueled by gay media, porn, and nightlife to get to us.

I have been combating the racism in the gay community for quite awhile. But it has not only been by way of this blog like some would think. I have also combated this racism by entering bar contests, and applying for go-go dancing gigs at places that I knew wouldn't entertain the idea of a 5' 6" fit (not gymrat) Black male. Fully aware that in spite of my better skills as a dancer (to the White/light guy they hire being a citizen of Rhythm-less Nation) and my interaction with the crowd, that the sexual racism of the crowd and ignorant promoters catering to it that I had a snowball's chance in hell of winning the contest, or getting the go-go gig. And if I got the gig, my professionalism wouldn't be asked back as often as a White boy's unprofessional haughtiness and self-indulgence while he's still on the clock.

Combating this sexual racism is also why I applied to be a model for Next Door Magazine in 2011. Every time I saw this magazine prior, it was full of White guys with so few Black guys, you could count them on one hand, and still have fingers left over. So imagine my surprise when interest in me, after approaching them at The Rainbow Book Fair that year led  to an actual photoshoot. Also, how issues since my layout in the magazine, there have been other Black models. Even one making the cover. That says to me that the response to my layout was positive enough that (at least for awhile) it inspired them to rethink their color scheme of models, and bring in more variety. Therefore, my actions were not for naught.

The racism in the gay community tells Whites that they're sexy even if they're not competent at what the sexy job entails, or they're built like malnourished walking sticks. Meanwhile, the racism in the community too often refuses to tell non-Whites that at all. The only non-Whites the Whites running gay entertainment give a pass to is a light-complexioned Latino, and maybe an Asian here and there. But that's all a tactic to avoid being called out for the racists that they are.

This racism tells us that we have to actually work to be recognized for our sexual and intellectual prowess, which while unfair, does in the long run gives us a better work ethic. This racism also tells us that we're only worth being made a fetish of. Not to be respected and taken seriously as sexually desirable entities for our looks and intellect. In fact, I have been looking in a mirror telling myself that I'm sexy ever since I applied for go-go dancing gigs that I knew venues were going to make some excuse to turn me down. And thinking back on that, the 2 main venues I put in for are no more - them being The Roxy and Urge Lounge. So good fuckin' riddance!

I have also had to tell myself "I'm sexy" every time I sat in front of my computer to apply for a porn studio. Knowing full well that whitewashed porn companies like Falcon, Raging Stallion, Hot House, Titan Media, Corbin Fisher, Sean Cody, Lucas Entertainment, etc. were going to give some excuse to insult my higher intellect, or give no reply at all. Which leaves me with the only choices being modern-day slavery porn studios also owned by Whites like Big City Video, FlavorWorks, Pitbull Productions, Real Urban Men, or Black-owned Chocolate Cream (B.C.) Productions - all of whom show Black males to not be sexual men, but gorilla niggers instead. So you know I'm enjoying the karma of how fucktard-run studios like Falcon, Raging Stallion, and Hot House, once individual powerhouse gay porn companies, are now getting their comeuppance by having to band together to save face and stay afloat. And ALL of the aforementioned companies and others are allowing their stuff to be downloaded on sites like FilesMonster.

This is why Karma is a bitch that I love, love, love, LOVE.

There are 3 types of people reading this blog post:
1) Those who don't go out, don't read gay media, and don't watch porn heavily because they know the ugliness I'm speaking of here to be true;
2) Those who actually do partake of gay media, porn, and/or nightlife, but do it in silence; and
3) Those who run sites and/or events that fuel the racism I speak of. So they're reading this is to see just how much on to them I really am.

And with #3, while they try being discreet, you can always tell when my telling the ugly truth of their ugly behavior has hurt them. For that's when the free entry into events stop. As well as the free drink tickets. Along with rigged contests. You see, they don't think I see this. But the fact is that while I was born at night, for their plan to go undiscovered, they're wishing I was born last night.

The racism fueled by White-dominated gay media, porn, and nightlife has done a lot of damage to the sexual image of Black males especially. And in the process the (way too many) weak-minded among us Blacks won't speak or act publicly in a way to combat this. For those racist White-owned entertainment outlets have made the weak minded of us Blacks feel guilty of having "Angry Black Man Syndrome". Yet truth be told, we have every fuckin' right to be angry! For it's misrepresentation of us as a whole.

Hence the reason I need to say all this. For while presently, my looks, lifestyle, and relationship status allows me to take the stand by entering these contests to show the variety in Black males as a sexual and intellectual power in the gay community, I know at some point, that will no longer be the case. One or more of the aforementioned factors allowing me to participate will at some point change to stop me. And since I seem to find myself always the only Black body and voice, that means no Black male is on the verge of taking my place as that body & voice by doing the action of participating. Which means Black gay males fearing Whites laying on the guilt will silence Blacks again. Thereby making all the progress I have made in getting our variety recognized as a power in a short time be back to square one. Then who will we have to blame for the dismissal of the variety of Blacks having just as much prowess as that of Whites? OURSELVES.

The problem is that based on the present display by Blacks, if and when that backwards slide happens, Blacks will never admit to it. For that damage by Whites to our image won't be undone by the present buying of their racist magazines and porn videos. It won't be undone by giving another Facebook "like" to another White model from their White saturated website. It won't be undone going to their parties catering to racism in multi-ethnic areas to tip their White/light go-go boys, AND never calling the racism out. It won't be done sitting in the audience cheering for a contestant when all of the contestants are White/light. Nor will it be done by hosting a contest where all of the contestants are White/light. For if you look at the history of beauty contests, the reason that host was chosen was because he/she has qualities that the producer feels makes that Black person unfit to be considered a contestants.So in a gay bar contest, if that Black guy is of a body type like the White/light contestants allowed to enter, then it's safe to say that the disqualifying factor by that party promoter was color.

In short, the fact that we Blacks are just as sexually desirable (by looks or intelligence) as Whites is not going to be put in the heads of those duped by gay media unless we demand a shot at the spotlight of being seen and/or heard. That is what I do and have done with every contest I've entered, every stint as a go-go boy at a mostly White bar or party, every porn studio I applied for who has rejected me with a bullshit excuse, and every website and blog I've submitted posts to, then called out later for their racism...So more Blacks need to step it up as a way to say,...

"Regardless as to whether you choose me or not, my Black skin is here in your bar, on your stage, in your contest, sending you an email, filling out your application, etc. to let you know that I know that I am sexy, smart, and therefore good enough to be here."

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Putting Off Your Blast Off

I was recently offered a sample of a male desensitizing spray called Promescent. To be honest, I have always been weary of desensitizing sprays, creams, and gels. To the point that even though my working at The Pleasure Chest has made me entertain trying things I never thought I would, a desensitizing spray is one thing that I never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever thought I would bend on giving a try.

Being sexual is more in my nature than most people. It's probably the reason I have been masturbating since I was about 9 years old, and know my body and the male anatomy in general better than most. So after masturbating for that many years, at my present age of 43, my penis is very quick to ejaculate when stroked by my hand. I still have stamina as a top penetrating someone. However, when it comes to masturbating by stroking my dick with my hand, I'm quick to shoot a load if I'm not more patient with myself. The only thing that slows it down is stroking my dick in front of people - in short, shyness. Such as in a hook-up, a sex party, or erotic performances, like my masturbation poses when I modeled for the Leslie-Lohman Drawing Studio. With that being the case, I decided to try this desensitizing spray.

I must admit that I was hesitant to even accept the spray when offered. For as you can tell from my blog posts, I am someone who thrives on feeling every sensation involved in a situation. Regardless as to whether that sensation is physical or mental, I want to feel it all, with no interference. And as sexual as I am, there's no doubt that applies to sexual play. Hence why I hate poppers.

So the big question is: Did Promescent work? And the answer, at least from my experience, is yes.

I learned that some of my concern was realized by using Promescent, but not to the full extent. Meaning that because of its active ingredient, Lidocaine, it does just what it claims to do - desensitize. I only used 3 - 5 sprays out of the recommended 3 - 10. That caused a numbing to occur, but it didn't completely strip me of sensation as I originally always feared of desensitizers. And this did cause a delay in my ejaculation. So I personally would use Promescent for solo use.

I will admit that I have yet to use Promescent for sexual intercourse. And if I do, I will very likely do so with a condom. Even though Promescent's formula claims to absorb better into the skin than other Lidocaine-active desensitizers, so no condom should be necessary.

The reason for my decision to still use a condom is that the instructions on Promescent say "...Wash product off after intercourse." This says to me that even if it's a very small dose, the product is still on the skin, and can be removed with fluid. Therefore, I think it's safe to be concerned that Promescent can be washed off by your partner's bodily fluids while those fluids are still in their body. This, depending upon your partner's sensitivity, can still transfer the Lidocaine into your partner's anus, vagina, or even their mouth. With that said, Promescent is for lessening the intensity of sensation to your penis. NOT lessen the sensation in or around the orifice of the partner your putting your penis into. Keep in mind that I admit to the fact that I have not used it with another person. But this concern of mine is the reason why.

So this review is not a total "yes", but it's not a total "no" either. So since I can't be adamant, I am leaving the choice up to you.

After going to the website, the packaging for Promescent might have changed from that which is in my 1st picture. So keep that varied packaging in mind should you go looking for it anywhere.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Using Modus Vivendi To Say "Black IS Beautiful": Blacks ARE Good Enough, Part 1

As some of you may know that I once wrote a blog post about a sex party I attended entitled "My Sex Drive at Hard Drive". Since then, I have gotten weekly updates on the party, including the changing of the name to Handsome NYC.

A couple of weeks ago, the weekly email told of a fashion show for the underwear/swimwear company Modus Vivendi was to take place at the party. The email also included a call for models. Due to the lack of medium to darker complexioned Black male underwear models, I was sure most Black guys' faith would be shaken. Therefore, not submit their names out of fear of rejection in being chosen. So I decided to throw my name in the hat as a way to say those racists, and Blacks doubting their beauty:

Modeling in a fashion show at a sex party might seem like an extreme means to make such a statement, but as a single, exhibitionist gay Black man, I had to go where the opportunity to make this much-needed statement presented itself. 
And it's sad that I had to use an event intended for fun to make such a statement, but it's times like these that make me call for the removal of many present powers-that-be in gay media. For it is them who put the idea in many people's head that "Black is not beautiful". A falsehood I have for years been battling.

Now, I'm sure there are some racists who saw me in the fashion show, and/or photos who followed the "fashion" world's lead by feeling my Black skin in the mix ruined everything. Especially with me being the FIRST to walk out on the runway.
Well, if that's their problem, then they need to get out of the color-filled melting pot that is America. For based on the comments and likes group photos like the one above have received, my presence proved that Black skin in the midst of light ruins nothing. And if they refuse to see that, then whatever age they are, they can't say about their so-called beauty what I can honestly say about mine. Which is:
 
I am a 43 year-old Black male who is in better mental and physical shape than many of the 20 and 30-somethings who turned up their noses at my presence in the fashion show, the photos, and this video. So all I care about their gripe is the undeniable fact that it proves my inner and outer beauty outdoes theirs.


So with that said, to all you envying haters, have a nice so-called life.

And to my friends and followers, THANK YOU, for your continued support. :-)

Read Part 2, "Fuck, I'm Sexy!" HERE.

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