you know, this really really really really sucks! (see post below) Things were gonna be kinda tight this summer, so I was hoping/planning on accelerating my porno sales. I had some other ideas about cockrings, etc, but without the PAYPAL connection, it's gonna be really really tough. I'd have to say 90% of my sales (if not more) are paid for thru PAYPAL - so, after 3 years of getting a good chunk of change from me, and thousands of other buyers and sellers, not to mention going from a nothing nowhere company to being the choice of online payments for auctions, etc. (they drove Billpoint out of business, and caused eBay to purchase them a few months back), they can just choose to no longer want our business. Fuck that sucks. In the strictly legal sense, they can probably do whatever the hell they want; but it sickens me that once again, anything gay or dirty (and gay=dirty, anyway, right) gets used for awhile to build up a business, then when they got your money and their prestige, they can dump you like that, muther fuckers!
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
From the THIS REALLY SUCKS (but not in the good way) department:
"As many of you know PayPal has recently changed its user agreement twice. The first change to their user agreement specifically prohibited transactions involving adult items "unless you are completing a transaction on the eBay Mature Audiences site." We (Naughtybids) have been aware of this change and have been aggressively pursuing what we believe to be anti-competitive actions by eBay. Last month Naughtybids filed a lawsuit against eBay alleging that eBay violated antitrust and anti-competition laws by instituting this policy and was trying to further monopolize online adult auctions. After receiving our law suit PayPal promptly changed its policy once again and now will refuse to process payments for all adult auctions (after June 12th) including those completed on eBay's mature audiences section."
more detailes at: Ricks Cabaret Antitrust Lawsuit
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Date: 4/29/03 12:21:57 PM Eastern Daylight Time
Hello. I live on Ukraine. I the photographer. I work with models in erotic (pornographic) filming. I have some photoseries, I want them to offer you. Sergey.
Monday, April 28, 2003
OK, now, what's wrong with this ad? Well, besides the fact that he's way way way above 14th St; and yes, let's even forget about the caps and exclamation point for the "must be HIV-", which is a huge turn-off, but he wouldn't know that, and I'm learning to allow people their preferences, even if I have strong views that are markedly different. OK, I'l tell you - it's not an ad! This is an email to me that I read when I got home from work yesterday, via CRUISETOOL.COM. And other than deleting his name, email address, and phone number, I have not altered the email at all. My problem is that it may just as well be spam. No "hey, liked your pic" - no "you're profile looked interesting" or anything at all that would make you think he actually responded to my listing - he just copied his CRUISTOOL AD, and sent it to everyone on the site! I know, I know, it's a sexhook-up site, and I shouldn't expect romance and flowers and courting and all that, but you'd think some sort of acknowledgment that he's actually addressing a specific other person? His ad/email does say he's interested in a relationship, so, um, maybe he should practice a bit with the niceties associated with relationships?
- "hello. My, what a nice photo of you!"
- "hey hotstuff, that beard looks might comfy, mind if I have a seat?"
- "good morning; no, i like my toast burnt - more fiber, you know. Sex last night was fantastic, and your snoring is intoxicating. I have something for you, hold out your hand and close your eyes......"
OK, clearly the caffeine has kicked in, and I can start my day. Post office, bank, park, then return back here to respond to other emails I've gotten in the past 24 hours, some quite interesting, but not (yet) shareable.
Sunday, April 27, 2003
Saturday, April 26, 2003
Friday, April 25, 2003
"Rarely has there been male entertainment so determined to please it's audience with new, different, and shocking action than Midnight Geisha Boy!"
from STAR FILMS, producer Dick Martin (197?) director: Barry Knight (?)
Starring: Sammy Bond, Roy Rich, Sammy Fuller, Burt Rains, Ray Revel, and more
I have little info on this film, other than this trailer from JAGUAR FILMS official trailer reel (Vol. 1). The trailer says it's from Star Films, and I haven't yet figured out the exact relationship between Jaguar and Star. Unfortunately, the words "This movie not available" runs through the entire clip. I was able to find out, however, that Geisha Boy is indeed a lost film, and never made it onto videotape. The police, in one of their many raids of Jaguar in the 70's, confiscated every copy of the movie and they were never returned. It does make me wonder, however, if someone who had one of the old movie houses from back then still has a copy, or if Jaguar, like Colt and others, ever sold 8mm versions of these films.
Thursday, April 24, 2003
"THESE VIDEOS ARE NOT, REPEAT, NOT! NOT! NOT! LIKE SLIDE SHOWS OF DRAWINGS. VIDEOGRAPHER JACK FRITSCHER, WORKING CLOSELY WITH THE HUN, REX, & A. JAY, TREATS EACH & EVERY DRAWING OR PAINTING LIKE A REAL ROOM WITH REAL LIVE MEN. THE VIDEOS HAVE "MOVES," RHYTHM, PACE, PUNCH, ZOOM, PAN, DISSOLVES—ALL THE STUFF YOU EXPECT IN LIVE-ACTION. CLOSE-UPS OF EYES, BUTTS, DICKS, 4SKIN, ETC., INTERCUT WITH SMOOTH PAN ACTION. THIS IS NOT ANIMATION. THIS STYLE IS LIKE A MOVING DREAM PASSING IN STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS BEFORE YOUR EYES. SOMETIMES MARK HEMRY'S INGENIOUS EDITING MIXES ONE DRAWING INTO ANOTHER FOR A SPECIAL KIND OF MALE MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR THAT'S CUM-CUM-CUMING TO TAKE YOU A-WAY! SOME OF YOU KNOW WHAT'S WHAT! SOME OF YOU ARE ABOUT TO FIND OUT! Y'ALL CUM & GET WHAT REAL LIFE AIN'T NEVER GONNA GIVE YA! MORE 'N ONE WAY, THESE AIN'T SAFE VIDEOS!"
Just some stills from Hun Video Gallery that I have up for auction.
I don't know if any of you remember me posting that clip from the 1985 Philip St. John film Getting It, but at the time I didn't realize it's still available thru Falcon's "little brother" JOCKS VIDEO (JVP-05), retailing new for 45 bucks and up. But yesterday I saw a used copy on eBay, in case anyone's interested.
Wednesday, April 23, 2003
Tuesday, April 22, 2003
Monday, April 21, 2003
I didn't get out of the apartment until well after midnight, walked a few blocks, then hopped in a cab. Getting out about 1/2 a block away, I could see a long line. Shit! So, taking my place in line, another guy walked up behind me, asking if this is the line for The Lure. Yup. So, waiting as the line moved extremely slow, a few cabs come and go, then one stops and out steps a cute bearded man in leather chaps. He just stands in the middle of the road, slowly putting his wallet away, checking out the line. Ah, I get it - he's looking for someone to cut in, and he takes his time, giving the rest of us a good chance to linger over his tightly laced-up chaps, his tight butt-hugging levis, and this ruggedly beautiful face. I immediately hate him. And love him. His one "flaw", in other people's eyes at least, is his height - a couple inches shorter than me, but so wonderfully proportional that he'd do well in movies. Anyway, he finally finds a group of friends, and by their greeting, they weren't planning on being there together. This group is somewhat different-looking than he, mostly tight muscly clothing, more 90's Dr. Seus varieties of facial hair, would fit in at most bars in the generic sort of style. Then the cackling and carrying on, and a loud cellphone call to someone, intended for the whole line to hear, about how the caller is getting fucked and sucked off as he speaks. Har har har. Meanwhile, the man who got in line after me is doing that irritating moving-up-ahead-of-me-on-my-right-side thing - fine man, if that makes you happy, go for it. You'll get in 12 seconds ahead of me.
Finally inside, I forgo the coat check, as it's another horribly long line, so I go quickly thru the crowd in search of a beer. Took awhile, and yes, more irritating people pushing ahead, their alcohol needs clearly more pressing than my own, so I don't fight it. When I finally get a bottle, I relax, and move slowly through the crowd. Not bad, actually. Most of the "beautiful" men are so outnumbered that they are hardly noticeable. One of the nice things about the leather/fetish and "wannabe" crowd is that they are generally older (closer to my age), and a wider variety of looks than most gay bars.
I finally spot some illegal activity, and draw closer to it. Yup, cigarette smoking. So daring! But just beyond that I see the tiny backroom-ish area, lots of men stuffed into a dark corner, and as I make my way in, the usual is happening - lots of guys milling around and pushing in a tiny space, with about 2 or 3 guys at most actually having sex. I leave there, but stay close enough and watch the show on stage. Some sort of mummification duct tape thing, it's actually quite fascinating. Then I notice it's being videotaped, and see that Nick Harmon (remember Ranger Nick?) is one of the videographers. Time for another beer, and I circle the place again. Winding up back near the stage, eye contact is made, and as I walk past him, along side but not in the dark backroom-ish area, he follows.
Some light grabbing, I put my mouth on the back of his neck and draw his body in, he reacting in kind, grabbing my ass, then back to my crotch. He gets the belt open, unsnaps a few, then drops down to his knees, and buries his face in the jock's pouch. Buzzed head, it feels good as I push down on it, then he releases my cock and gets his face in deep. I'm facing the room, watching the room, and a few guys watching me, which of course is a big turn on. Then the guy stands up, I assume it's "my turn" but he pushes my body around, then goes down again. Woah! I didn't expect a face in my ass, at least not so quickly, and so brazenly. I realize my face is being pushed into the DJ's window, so I try to see what he's playing next while I feel a goatee maneuvering it's way around. The DJ cracks a faint smile, but looks fairly involved in his work. Before I know it, the guy turns me around again, and makes some funny faces, then some funny noises, and he's spooged on the floor, no doubt my boots as well. We pull our clothes back on, faint smiles and laughs, then we part.
Time for another beer. I don't really see anyone I know, but do see a few I've had sex with, AOL non-connections, folks from other bars from over the years. The short guy who hates being called Hispanic and has a chaps/jockstrap thing going on, who was fascinated with my web cam when he came over once but ignores me ever since. The handsome guy I would see at the restaurant, wondering if this dark European is queer, and tonight I found out yes, but don't say hello. There's the guy who had this incredible AOL profile, all sorts of filthy things on his "wish list", who ruined it by sending a face pic where he's cuddling a tiny dog-pet in his face. But it's all mildly amusing, and I'm having a cool time. But the beer begins to take it's toll, and I head for the long line for the Men's room. Rarely a bad place to stand and wait anyway, gives you a chance to check guys out (and hopefully, they check you out). As I get closer to my turn, I see that between two of the urinals is a guy crotched down, facing out, shirt pulled over and behind his head, hairy chest, beard. Oh. Hmmmm.
As luck would have it, my turn puts me to the right of the waiting man. He stares at my crotch, and only vaguely looks up for a moment. Another guy arrives on the other side of the guy, and crouching-man looks over, but his body is positioned closer to me. The guy starts to piss into the urinal, then grins, and aims at the guy's chest. Nice. Wet, warm streaming down, the pissing guy finishes up, and the next guy comes to the urinal. This is really turning me on, more than I would have thought, and as I look down at the guy, he has this great face. Bearded, rugged (naw, it's not the guy from the line outside), and a nicely trim body and very hairy chest, which is now glistening. I decide I want to do it. But, pee-shy, it's taking a long while, but no one seems too impatient in line, and the other guy has already started pissing, and like the previous guy, he turns and gives some to crouching-man. A 3rd guy walks up and says something like "you want it, don't you"? and crouching-man merely nods faintly as another stream joins the last drops from the other guy. I can't seem to pee, but my cock is getting hard. And crouching-man keeps darting his head over, waiting for me to do something. Two or 3 more guys take turns, I'm getting harder, but no closer to pissing. Then my cock starts bopping up and down on it's own at this point. Oh crap. I'm not touching it, another guy is pissing on my friend below, and I feel a few drops of cum slowly escape. He sees this, grins slightly, but turns back to the man making him warm and wet, and I button up, then put my hand on the side of his face, giving him a slight, but firm caress.
At this point I switch to water, and yes, I'm contemplating going back if I can "ready myself" But, alas, he's long gone (some smart man must've snatched him up and taken him home). More circling, and I notice that there is a lot of sex going on finally. Many of the guys are no longer trying to find a corner or wall, some are quite flagrant, and I stop briefly at many of the displays for a few minutes each. In the back, this sort of faux-alley, there seems to be a lot of activity, so I walk through slowly. Some guy making out with another looks me over, I pause, and his hand reaches for me. A moment's touch, but he's quite involved, and I'm not usually the forceful kind, so I keep going. I see several cocks exposed that I've wanted to see for years - none in an invitational manner towards me, but nonetheless nice to see. More pacing and circling, the crowd is thinning, and I stop and lean near the front door. Maybe it's time to consider what's next - home? The Slide with Jeff dj'ing? Before I decide, a guy who grabbed me earlier walks up, smiles, and starts to chat me up. Blah blah blah, he reaches for my crotch, then I put my hand into his mechanic's jumpsuit. Nice balls, I think - but he insists I grab his cock, so I pull it out, and get down on my knees. After only 3 or 4 slurps, I hear "LAST CALL!" as 1/2 the lights in the place come on. I keep going, feeling folks walk past and out the door. My new friend laughs aloud and pulls me up. He talks a bit about how much he loves public sex, but maybe we should get a bit away from the door (it's 4 a.m., the place is closing forever, I'd rather do it up here, but as the kids say - "whatever"). So we go back to the faux-alley, I drop and continue. He makes lots of appreciative noises, then pulls me up and asks what I want. I tell him I want to see him cum on me. But he does a Ralph Kramden hemna-hemna-hemna, "well, it's hard for me to cum so fast, and out in the open like this..." OK. I drop, grab my own cock, whack whack whack, spooge-spooge on my own boots, and get up and kiss him. He wants to chat, I'm thinking of the long walk home. The lights are pretty much on, and he asks about seeing me again, just to have sex. I tell him I can't really plan anonymous sex like that, but we'll no doubt bump into each other somewhere. Not happy with my response, he nonetheless relents, I give him a peck on the cheek, take a quick look around at the remaining guys there, and walk out.
The first few blocks walking home are nice. The far West Village can be quite nice at this hour, tiny streets, old little "quaint" homes, so I do my high school thing and light up a joint, taking a few slow tokes as I head east. It's nice; it's quiet; it's 4:30 and I have a warm grin on my face. By the time I get to 7th Avenue and all the (mostly str8, pardon-my-prejudices) drunk people begin to get on my nerves, I grab a cab for the rest of the way. When I get home, I don't turn on the TV, the computer, or music; I just undress down to the cottony jockstrap, prop myself in bed close to the window as the sky grows slightly lighter, and contemplate the night, and where I'm at in life. Nothing heavy, just a few minutes of, "yeah, that was fun", and then a few minutes of "damn, that crouching-man was a huge turn-on....."
Sunday, April 20, 2003
Saturday, April 19, 2003
Barely get out of bed, make coffee, go to check email, etc, and NO INTERNET CONNECTION!! I reset the modem 2 or 3 times, and with some trepidation, I go to check the TV set. Nope. The same TV Guide channel on all 99 stations. RATS! I call the good folks at Time Warner, and after listening to muzak constantly interrupted by a recording telling me how grateful they are that I am holding patiently, back to muzak, back to thank-you message, I get a live real person who tries to stifle his giggle as he tells me how many hundreds of dollars I owe. But with the miracle of modern technology, just use my American Express card, and once the payment is in, it will be back automatically. Several minutes playing with the telephone keypad, I have my payment confirmation number, and I stare at the TV and computer waiting. Gotta get to work! OK, go shower, it'll be back on then. NOPE! Calling Time Warner again, pulling on socks, jockstrap, shoes as I punch in all the necessary numbers to get a real person, and again, a different guy, barely hiding his laughter, says he will check and BOOM, the WEATHER CHANNEL is back on! More importantly, internet connection back.
Friday, April 18, 2003
For some reason I've been listening to Sinead O'Connor a lot the past couple of weeks - I have several of her CD singles, and Universal Mother (greatly under-rated, and difficult to find in stores these days) has also been on the CD changer constantly, like right now - I have a tough time picking which cong from that album is my favorite, but this one certainly stands out - In This Heart - the simple melody, nothing-but-vocals approach that few can do as well as she can. Just beautiful.
Thursday, April 17, 2003
and thanks, NAUGHTYBIDS!
Wednesday, April 16, 2003
Invalid Item - The item you requested (3413587079) is invalid, still pending, or no longer in our database..
I've been meaning to try to feature (other) cool eBay sellers, or interesting porno auctions. A few months back I bought a few magazines from hollywoodcatlady, - the shipping was fast, the mags in great shape, and it was just an all-around good experience for me as a buyer. But then she got "baptised" recently in the world of ebayGAYporn when a few listings seemed too much for the good folks at eBay, and was suspended. Grrrrrrr! Now she's finally back on, and with a mix of porn and music-related memorabilia, I found this one magazine looked so great - and she graciously sent me an extra scan.
The description, in part: "Sixty-two pages of black-and-white photos of MEN IN LEATHER - with bikes, with chains, with tattoos, with company - and bound in a textured, black-on-ochre heavy stock cover.
Compiled under the direction of AVERY WILLARD and published in 1965 by GUILD PRESS LTD. of Washington, D.C., this 5-1/2" x 8-1/2" book is a kind of Physique Pictorial for the Leather Set ... which is to say, hunky models in posing straps."
I am trying to control my eBay bidding on cool stuff like this, so I won't (likely) be bidding, and figured I'd share with y'all - check it out, and her her other auctions, too.
Tuesday, April 15, 2003
The sound of chainsaws forced me into my plans for the day (seriously, outside my bedroom window at 9 am, someone needed to saw god-knows-what) - get to the post office early, trying to beat the longlines for TAXDAY, then relax outside in the beautidul sunny Spring day. But of course, as often happens, a bit distracted, as I got 2 pornpackages in the mail. One 8mm Gordon Grant, the other some early 80's videos, including the one pictured here. Had to take a quick look at this, and it's great footage of NYC around 1981/2. I love these cool original boxes of old videos!
Monday, April 14, 2003
Sunday, April 13, 2003
It's that perfect time of year, cool but sunny, the park filled with people, dog-run full of pets, kids running and screaming. I love when the trees are just at that point where the leaves and flowers are budding, and you see hundreds of small bits of color amongst the dark, hard branches. Against the late afternoon blue sky, you can let your imagination take you away - what will this year bring?
Last night I found myself watching a good chunk of PBS's "New York: A Documentary Film". Beautifully done, and with much love, I found myself not necessarily listening, but just watching the landscapes, the aeriel views sweeping across Manhattan, or close-up views of building details, but all the while, seeing all the different kinds of faces, it was so warming, so obvious that this is the place for me. I'm coming upon my 20th year here, and while I think about that huge chunk of my life, really my entire adult life, there's this momentary tranquility, that with all the regrets, and missed opportunities, and mistakes, I can't imagine any of it anywhere else. As much as I hibernate in my home, or joke about not leaving the neighborhood much, it's still being amongst all this that feels very reassuring somehow. There is no great lesson, no sudden revelation, just a certain, momentary peace that the spring here brings to me.
Saturday, April 12, 2003
Friday, April 11, 2003
"Let's melt it down. Let's bring it to New York and let's put it in one of the girders that's going to rise over here as a symbol of the rebuilding of New York and the rebuilding of America."
How many things are wrong with this? Does he realy think that advocating the plundering of Baghdad so as to rebuild NY is really something you should be saying outloud? Do ya think the Iraquis might be able to find some use for that thing? Could he make it any easier to make the phrase "REPUBLICAN GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK" synonymous with the phrase "FUCKING IDIOT"?
While the images on TV of former Iraqi soldiers walking back homeward in droves can be quite moving, it made me think about their future, and where we all will be 6 months from now. And also about the last war we had (or are having) over in Afghanistan. I was actually in the midst of spending several hours this morning attempting to find on-line info on what's happening in Afghanistan. Sure, the TV and NY Times give the bits of news on the fighting, but not much on what the current living situation is like for the Afghani people. I have yet to find anything on that topic, but did stumble upon a thought-provoking analysis on The Forgotten War - which accepts the premise that a continued presence of US military in Afghanistan is a "good thing" but does thoughtfully question and evaluate our strategy and tactics there at this point in time. (I found it via an on-line Asian news outlet, and the rest of the site, Foreign Policy In Focus , looks quite interesting, as well). Which, by the way, are the sorts of things we need to be thinking about in our current war and its aftermath. But maybe the oil riches of Iraq make it too different a case-study, as the economic interests there are so greatly more interesting to the world that the investment $$$ may well pour in to take advantage of Iraq's oil-riches, whereas I can't name any economic reason why the world should care about Afghanistan.
And I'm also wondering about the women in Iraq. I haven't seen many of them dancing in the streets. And I don't mean that just as a snotty remark, I am honestly wondering why that is.
Thursday, April 10, 2003
Wednesday, April 09, 2003
a quick look at my stats (you non-website/blog owners may go to sleep now) shows that I hit an all-time record # of hits today. I won't be so tacky as to say how many, but I will be tacky enough to say I suspect the recent invasion of str8 lurkers. Now, I got nuthin' against y'all (and I won't claim that some of ya are my best friends, cuz that would be a whopper, and I mean a lie, not a juicy fat dick........... mmmmmmm, juicy fat dick....), but, just, um, don't do it in front of me, k?
Speaking of Making Love - tonight is THE last night of THE LURE. I ventured over there Sunday, and it was really kinda sad; about 20 guys there (which is about 7 times the usual for a Sunday), but I suspect tonight could get fairly crazy - or rather, I HOPE TO GOD it does! Tonight I'm hoping some cigar-chomping daddy (Mike Roberts, where are you???? and i'm thinking less Titan Media MIKE ROBERTS and more Devil In The Rain MIKE ROBERTS) takes a shining to me. But after tonight, I'm going back into (sexual) hibernation, I swear.
Tuesday, April 08, 2003
"Everything homosexuals do together is vividly, photographically detailed with unrelenting honesty."
Director: David L. Allen (1973)
Starring: Bob Weaver, Brad Preston, David Allen, Dick Smith , N Eva Faye, N Felisha Fahr, Greg Phillips, J. Rich, Jay Dexter, Jim Cassidy, Joey Daniels, John Mihu, Kelle, Kirt Coord, Ray Todd, Richard Lavette, Richard Lindstrom, Rick Dennis, Rob Roberts, Ron Erario, Steve Fisher, Steve Fox, Tiger, Vicki Mills, William Laskey, and Winston Kramer
From what litle I have found out about the film, the director, David L. Allen, was also the writer of the book it was based on, the subtitle of the book was A Fictionalized Documentary of Police Brutality Against the Homosexual Community in Los Angeles, and was published by Exposition Press in 1972.
Monday, April 07, 2003
Sunday, April 06, 2003
Saturday, April 05, 2003
Friday, April 04, 2003
..... more listings..... (that's 90's Falcon star Johnny Hanson, but you knew that already) .... when I tried posting the MEN magazine issue with Scott O'Hara (little pornstar big porndick, author of Autopornography) - you remember that famous one where he's all "punked out" in his mohawk? - well, the eBay censor-bot spurted this out:
The following is provided to protect you from listing a prohibited item on eBay.
eBay does not permit the listing of sexually oriented material that features bodily fluids. A listing containing any reference or innuendo that refers to bodily fluids will likely be found to violate this policy and will not be permitted.
I gosh Scott's nom de pornpunk "Spunk" isn't acceptable for eBay.
Thursday, April 03, 2003
Earlier in the night, I had decided to head out to the Lure for Pork, figuring that if the bar is closing in a week, perhaps there might be more adventuresome guys hanging out, and perhaps the "rules" might not get enforced (with all the men in leather and other "fetish" garb, the guys who work there spend a lot of time making people keep their stuff in their pants so as not to endanger their liquor license). But while the crowd was okay, it seemed to be the same ol' same ol', perhaps a few couples making out, but nothing terribly interesting. Even the new no-smoking law was being strictly adhered to, so I figured a few beers, then head back east, and maybe catch Jeff at The Slide dj-ing. One shirtless, goatteed bearish guy kinda caught my attention, and he seemed to be checking me out, too. He sat down in the back, that sort of faux alleyway, and I circled a few times, finally realizing there's no reason to dick around, go for it and see what happens. As I approached, he let out a slight grin, we kissed lightly, and he grabbed my chest. Somehow he managed to find a nipple, and began tugging. I licked his chest, his neck, his rather large nipples, and he let the slightest groan out. He pulled harder, alternating each side, then suddenly pulled his cock out of his pants, and pushed my head down. A few slurps, he pulled me up, we kissed, and a bouncer came by, telling him to "put it away or you're out!" We settled in for some above-the-waist activity, but apparently he was worked up, and once he saw the bouncer pass by on his rounds, he unbuttoned, shoved me down, and thrust into me. Suddenly pulling me up and turning me around, so my leather pants-covered ass was pressing against his dick, me looking forward and him reaching and unbuttoning my fly. A couple of guys stood around, watching. He continued on my nipples, and after the bouncer passed again, he swung me around, pushed me down, and fucked my face again. Stopping again, swinging me around, the bouncer passed, then back down again. This time someone approached from behind, grabbing me, then suddenly my belt was coming off. He grabbed my hands, and used my belt to tie them behind my back, while my partner continued to fuck my face, pull on my nipples, and give the occasional slurp to my mouth. A passing thought regarding my glasses, how they are already fucked up and askew from me falling asleep on them a few times, and now being thrust into his hairy belly. Suddenly I'm pulled up, he tried to kiss me, and a flash light is pointed at his crotch, and a different bouncer barks: "put it away, once more and you're out!" The unknown guy behind me is gone, my hands easily slip out of the belt, and I put it back on. My partner in crime has zipped up, and stood up, saying he needs to piss, and walks off. I button back up, my glasses are practically falling off my face, and I pull them off to wipe them. Clink. What was that? as I put them back on, seeing that the right lens is missing.
Shit! Fumbling around on the dank floor, somehow I manage to find the lens, get up, and am grateful that the teeny tiny screw is still in place. But there's no way I can get it back together; I walk to the bar, to the nice older guy with glasses, and ask if he has a teeny tiny eyeglass screwdriver. Nope. A few feeble attempts with a knife, my nonexistent finger nails, but nothing does the trick. I give up, and go to the coat check, not really being able to see, just following brighter light and avoiding darker spots. The sweet coat check guy can't help, saying he usually carries his Swiss Army Knife, but not tonight. As I head out, I see my "partner," lick one of his nipples, and say goodnight. Traffic isn't the real concern going home; it's late, and like I mentioned, once I got onto Bleeker St., the intersections all have traffic lights, so I keep it slow and steady, but it's the potholes I can barely make out. But it is a beautiful night, and I can't help grinning from ear to ear, and manage to get all the way back to the East Side (phewww!) in one piece. I park the bike in front of The Slide, some friends are coming out to smoke, and we do the cheek-kiss thing, as I go inside, see Jeff, get a beer. There's a tall man in a bunny suit, but apparently the go-go boy has finished for the night. Some groovy music, Jeff remarks on my lack of glasses, and I briefly explain - the part about my belt being used to tie my hands makes him say "ahhhh, years since anything like..." and he trails off mumbling - poor "married" man! I am about to buy another Happy Hour beer (2 bucks after 2 am!) but count my money, and I have just enough to get into House of Regrets.
Having said my goodnights, I pedal the block over, lock up, go inside, and immediately realize the problem I'll be having. No, not that I'm too drunk; not that most, if not all, of them are too drunk or stoned; and not quite that I can't see faces that well until up close. I realize there will be no subtleties here if I am to have sex. I can't see if someone is looking in my direction, doing the tacky porno-movie lip-licking, or crotch-grabbing. But it's late enough that most of the guys are more obvious than usual, wanting to get it on and get home. The first two guys I tried were quite handsome up close, and bodies that looked better unclothed than clothed. But for some reason I was giving off this "I'm a top and I want to fuck you" vibe, and when I wouldn't, each seemed quite disappointed (the 2nd guy tried sticking it in, unsheathed, as I got up from behind him at one point). So we parted ways rather quickly after that. Finally a shortie seemed quite interested, and he had a nice, little tight body. Like the other two, he seemed to dig the old beard-in-yer-balls routine; but unlike the other two, this seemed enough to do the trick, and like a good boy, got it on me , not in me. We giggled like kids as we dressed, him leaving the sweaty room first, and me attempting a quick (but not terribly thorough, as I saw this morning in the mirror) clean-up in the bathroom before straddling the bike, and riding those last few blocks home. My nipples are still sore.
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
fun in the M4MdungeonNYC room - no attitude, please
"Name: subhuman thing
Location: American living in Italy
Able to financially support and relocate MASTER.
Marital Status: LT open relationship, no secrets
Hobbies & Interests:
crave subhuman existence, extreme sm, bb, ws, urinal duty (drink YOU dry), total use, objectification, steel, caging, enforced chastity, degradation, torture, impaling, dungeon storage, hard-labor, modifications, experiments, anything-goes edge+++
slave is 38, inked, pierced.
Lifted for 15 yrs.,
now overweight, looking to get back in shape
20+ years. SM exp.
YOU are young, VGL, muscular, sadistic, no mercy.
YOU accept no limits, no regrets, don't negotiate or stop.
If YOU are muscular and sadistic,
YOU do not have to work
YOU do not have to worry about money
YOU can live the life of a true sadist MASTER
YOU spend your time in the Gym and in the Dungeon
(send pic, no attitude please)
this is a serious offer"
um, a master with NO attitude?
there's......... just........ something.......... terribly........ WRONG....... with that!
Tuesday, April 01, 2003
One odd, but beautiful thing about the interent - you can become friends with someone who lives hundreds of miles away, but you know nothing about his family, or his other friends - you pick up little glimpses of his other relationships by listening to him talk about his family and friends, and you learn what is important to him, what makes him tick. You never really learn much about those other people, but you learn more about your friend, and how these other relationships have affected him, making him the person he is today. And then the anguish and anxiety of a sick relative, and suddenly he is no longer the little nephew, but must become "the adult" and make important decisions, and take care of an elderly loved one. Anger, and struggling, and resentment perhaps at times, but he finds himself doing what he must, having learned about kindness and nurturing, and what is important about life, and his relationships, through the helpless person who needs his care now. Nothing seems quite right, he keeps struggling, and as the end draws near, the sadness and solitude may seem quite unbearable. I wish I could take away some of that pain; from this distance, I can't see a frail man in a nursing home taking his last breaths. All I see is a wonderful man rushing to his side, holding his hand, reading him stories, remembering the decades together; tears perhaps, but just maybe some comfort in knowing how lucky he has been to know the sweet man in the bed. And maybe also some comfort knowing that there is someone hundreds of miles east, thinking of him, and happy to know that this uncle has helped make this nephew the sweet man I am happy to call my dear friend.
So long bye my friend so long
So long will it ever happen again
You know that I've been waiting for you
I've been creating for you so long
You know the light ain't fading from you
Nothing could save me from you, so long