Wednesday, October 4, 2017

PozCum Fetish

The Folsom Street Fair is the daddy of all fairs, and I gave this year's a pass.  I don't have a lemon-sucking smirk as I write this; I love Folsom!  Kristians who approach life from the perspective of defending themselves from a so-called 'gay agenda,' are correct in their collective outrage.  Folsom is the greatest of marketing tools for anything gay, even though, as anybody who's attended understands, Folsom in itself is not really gay.  It's inclusive of a wide...wide...range of fetishes, as adherents come out from the woodwork (as they say) and let their hair, I'm just spewing all these cliche's, but Folsom always flirts with becoming a big cliche to the most discriminating of us.  One of my favorite cartoons is one published by Playboy Magazine decades ago but could describe Folsom today: a leatherclad woman with whip in hand, gazes into the mirror, saying 'Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, who's the kinkiest little housewife in Hutchinson, Kansas?'  That's what Folsom is becoming, and I'm all for it.

But for all the fetishes celebrated, at least one remains unacknowledged: poz cum.  Well, there are other opportunities to celebrate the donation and reception of that nasty, poisonous man juice, and fortunately, the big bad world gets less and less like Hutchinson, Kansas, by the day.  So let me celebrate Folsom for what it is: the freedom to be what you are and maybe for what you want to become, your way and in your own time.  Kristians, be outraged.  Hutchinson, Kansas is not all what it seems to you.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Kenny's Raw Fucks Marks a New Age: A Review

Well, it had to happen.  It probably happened a while back, but with Kenny Host's debut video for Treasure Island Media, I chose to notice...and it will probably change the way I see porn and buy porn in the future.  The star is Negative and on they say.  The star is fetish specialist Nate Grimes, and he's superbly versatile: he can fuck like a stallion and he can take it like a real pig whore, yeah, the cum just flows out of his well-drilled manpussy.  He's still a bit too clean-cut for my taste, but as I see more of him, I expect this opinion to change.  I need time to create my own fantasy situation for Nate, that's how porn works for me, it inspires...and good sex gets better.  I really do believe in stars, and well, it is a relationship...they get it started and my dirty little mind takes it from there.  It is visual and it is mental, this relationship and gets dollars out of my pocket and into the pockets of pornographers and that's how this business should work.  Once in the WeHo bookstore, Circus of Books, where I had gone to see if I could scare up a copy of Kenboy's so-called conversion party (Hot Desert Knights, c. 2000), I happened upon a dvd with a full-frontal erect Marco Cruise on the cover.  I had already worked up my own fantasy profile for Marco: blue collar Latino daddy etc., and I forgot all about Kenboy, and bought the video.  It turned out to be a not-very-good effort from a second tier studio...not Marco's fault but, since I already knew him, I wanted him to be shot a certain way and he wasn't.  But they got my money, just the same.  I've even forgotten the name of that dvd.

Basically, Neg on Prep is truly unsexy.  It's safe and it works, and that changes things for those of us, (poisoned in childhood by clueless nuns and priests and old maid aunts & uncles), who get off on sex being filthy, risky, reckless and taboo.  A cynic might feel that with negative porn stars, every bareback experience is potentially a conversion.  I don't even think that way, but it does change the fantasy route where pornography is supposed to take me.  Last year while grazing on Barebackrt, I saw a bull run (as opposed to a cattle call) in the party listings, for tops to fuck Dolf Dietrich.  Every one of the bitches responding identified as being 'neg + prep.'  This for a sleazy Manhattan bar scene.  Yeah, it's changed.

Meanwhile, Nate Grimes can become a superstar if he wants, and I hope he wants; he's great.  And as for Brian Bonds, Timarrie Baker, and Justin Case...they all make the grade and I'll be watching their careers and I'll be buying their shit.  And it was great to see machotop Steven Richards sit on a raw cock...that alone is worth the price of this video.  Kenny Host covers some new territory with his first effort.  One thing about Treasure Island Media that is not mentioned often enough, is value.  There are a dozen episodes in this video, all cum-laden, and with absolutely no reason for fast forwarding.  Manly men, rivers of cum.  Kenny Host's Raw Fucks!  Buy it off the TIM website, as I had to...just about every porn outlet has stopped selling collateral.  Circus of Books, both Silver Lake and WeHo have closed!! Another posting, some other time, for now, buy this video, pozfanatics.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Bareback Videos: A Full Circle

Yeah, so I was stoked at the prospect of hitting my local porno shop, gettin' my hands on Treasure Island Media's latest, 'Kenny's Raw Fucks' and making a night of it: porn in my pocket, hittin' my fave spots in the Castro for a couple of cocktails, get home, relax and absorb what promises to be some good old fashioned raunchy sex on video, free from interruptions and friendly intrusions.  Just me, Stoli and Kenny Host.  On such occasions, sex can wait.  That's why I buy this stuff, rather than subscribe to a streaming website: I want and need the collateral evidence of filth.

Except that my local shop has reduced its inventory to just a single rack of boring programmed porn from people like Titan.  It possibly makes business sense: for all the shelf space devoted to porn, the yield probably doesn't measure up.  I checked around the other shops, even the local smut emporium in my mother's dusty Central Valley cowtown (where the porn palace now resembles a Walgreens), and it's the same story: you won't be able to buy Kenny Host's epic off the shelf.  So it's back to the mail order game.  Mail went downhill after shopping malls came to predominate the retail scene...and now it's back.  Amazon, Zappos, etc. show no sign of retrenchment.

Today I will order 'Kenny's Raw Fucks' online and wait patiently for the postman to deliver.  I'm especially interested in this video: it has some old faves, Jon Shields, my buddy Jayson Park (!!), Brian Bonds, pozdicks galore, and Nate Grimes, who may or may not be the fetish star from the old Kink Studios.  The 'new Dawson' TIM says.  We'll see.  I'm sorry we'll have to wait this time, like in the old days.  F..u..c..k!

The bareback porn era started almost 20 years ago, in the midst of AIDS, safe sex, and fear, if not hesitation to the point of tedium.  I rented a fisting video called 'Depth Charge' and my life changed: it showed bare knuckled fisting.  There was a sequel, as I recall, and some raw dick insertions were included.  Fleetingly.  Michael McKey, the videographer for Steven Scarborough (the director, if I'm not mistaken), went out on his own and produced a couple of outright filthy, raunchy videos starring a mostly bearish cast selected from his clutch of Phoenix buddies.  It was about 1998, 1999.

Then I read a review of 'Raunch Lunch,' I think that was the title, or something close to that by a guy named Paul Morris.  The review was in one of the so-called 'zines of the era, hastily copied and stapled, available off a shelf deep in the rear of the City Lights bookstore on Castro Street.  I bought it, via good old fashioned 19th century mail order.  It starred my favorite nom-de-porn...Wyatt Trash (!), and though it would be another couple of years before I put my ass on the mattress, I was already mentally a barebacker.  There was nothing I wanted more than Wyatt Trash's daddy dick up my butt.
'Raunch Lunch' proved to be tame compared to Paul's sequel, 'Breed Me,' which featured a headless bottom coaxing multiple loads out of his ass, as bells tolled.  This blew me away, and I did the mail order thing until TIM started marketing its product on pornshop shelves.  It must have been a Tom Shannon video, slightly pre-Dawson, because Dawson was never VHS, as I recall, and Tom Shannon was in 'Animals,' 'Plowed,' etc....we were trending, overlapping VHS to dvd.  It was about 2000.  The fact you could buy the stuff over the counter turned out to be pretty meaningful, in retrospect.

So now we're there again.  Except in the old days, Paul actually included a stamped (a real stamp pasted with somebody's saliva) return envelope for your mail order check.  Think about that for a moment.  And where TIM is today.

So, I'm so looking forward to Kenny's renditions of raw fucks.  The vodka's waiting.

Monday, August 7, 2017

Folsom 2017, Up Your Alley, San Francisco Gay Pride

I missed the SF Gay Pride Parade this year, and don't care.  I gave Up Your Alley a pass, and don't care.  I haven't written off Folsom, however, probably because, unlike Pride, it doesn't try all that hard at being inclusive.  Folsom remains a festishist event, and a chance to meet kindred spirits, old friends and make new ones.  But we'll see; a lot depends on who's appearing on the entertainment program.  In years past, I've enjoyed Varla Jean Merman singing for real, an outrageously awful but still fabulous Dirty Sanchez, Heklina's ass eating antics and Kimo's hilarious '20 Years of Madonna in 20 Minutes'.  Uhm, that would be 30 Years now, but that's what it takes, I guess.  I checked the website and couldn't find the schedule.

As for Gay Pride and any related excitement, the Parade has become the victim of its own success: this is not really bad, but it is different and it shows how far we've come from drag queens lounging in limousines and go go boys (porn stars, barbacks) doing their thing on flatbed trucks.  Now we have 500 Yahoo types marching followed by 500 guys from Google and 500 more guys from Salesforce, going on and on; last year the Parade went on for about four hours and I'm assuming the same for this year's.  Lost, among all of this, are a dozen (or so, one does lose interest) so-called grand marshals, their impact enfeebled by the magnitude of the event.  When I was a youngin, my next door neighbor enlisted my attendance at a local parade where John Wayne was to be the grand marshal, and he was!
He sat on the back of a Cadillac (a big car, anyway) convertible and shook the hands of all the parade goers who approached the car while the marchers fumbled on.  He was gracious and fulfilled what a grand marshal should be: the exclamation point to a parade's relevance.    At the San Francisco event, I've observed Cyndi Lauper and Chaz Bono, among others, living out their grand marshal-ness, squeezed into tiny sportscars idling down Market Street and having no impact whatsoever.  A grand marshal, like the beauty queen or Santa Claus, should come at the end of the parade and preferably on a big float: this is IT folks, this is the end of the Gay Pride Parade,a big deal.  I'd like to be able to say, 'Remember, that was the year, it was Chaz Bono!"

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Poz Bottom Gets Porn Clerk's Load 20 Years Late

To all who e-mailed me asking what the hell was going on with my life, missing posts and going incommunicado on the world: I am OK, working my ass off on a job that requires commuting and looking after an elderly relation, and if I were to recount my sexual experiences during this Trump Year, it would read only like a blog that reviews escorts.  I am transitioning into a different lifestyle where vacations will become more important, and where I'll just have to learn better how to tie my fisting and fucking life to business travel and long weekends.  I'm new to this, but a quick sketch, so we'll see.

My opportune time for hooking up is mornings, and a nice experience was had with a top who I thought was 'semi-anonymous,' that is, through a members-only hookup site.  Except he wasn't that at all.  It turns out I had met him 20 years ago.  We didn't fuck then and the reason we didn't reveals how the bareback world was then: 1997...only reckless types were fucking raw.  It was about two years before Michael McKey, Hot Desert Knights and Paul Morris.  New HIV drug strategies might be changing lives, but it was generally believed that only crazy assed fuckers, with a death wish, barebacked.  It was still a scary time.

In 1997, I started sputtering gibberish at work and scared the hell out of everybody and was sent home.  I ended up in the hospital with some brain swelling and was told that it was serious.  I was in intensive care but modern medicine saved my life and advised me to take the AIDS test, and so my AIDS life began.

For three whole years I was afraid I'd catch a cold that my immune system couldn't handle and I would die.  But we moved on, albeit living it day by day.  I got immersed in porn, and in those days that meant going to the porno shop, renting videos to be viewed at home.  I spent a lot of time in the video stores on Polk and Castro, where the clerks were often engaged in some casual flirting.  One of them even called me up and invited me to dinner at the old Line Up restaurant on Harrison Street.
He was a nice guy, but I knew we wouldn't fuck as I had subscribed to the whole safe sex deal.  Hell, I didn't even need condoms.  I had become a strict celibate.  Bareback porn eventually changed all that, and more about that some other time...but around the turn of the century, barebacking was emerging as a niche gay lifestyle.  Porn was the catalyst, leading to websites, yahoo groups, sex parties, friendships.  It was still reckless...barebacking, that is...but at least I could be reckless with like-minded guys.  I was not alone.  I think all early barebackers felt like this.

Morning fucks are what I'm after, some days are better or easier than others.  A few months back, I hooked up with this young daddy who wanted to plow some ass on his way to work downtown.  It turned out to be the guy from the video store and yeah, he shot a nice wad of juice up my mantwat and then plowed it deep, deep.  He had a nice style.  Twenty years later and we are both still sexin'.
All of this is good.

I still don't know his status.  We never discussed it, neither twenty years ago nor more recently ...that kinda shit is just plain not sexy for casual engagements.  But all I can say, I get a nice, nice feeling when I think o write about this.

Sometimes moving forward can bring you back to where you started.

Monday, January 2, 2017

2016 Porn Video Perspective: Ryan Cummings & Mick Rock It

I'm glad that 2016 is over.  Trumpkov has emitted a foul odor that will linger on for a while, but he'll be gone sooner rather than later, and I'll just leave it at that...there's a lot of shit that's gonna hit that fan after Jan 20.

In the porn world we were spared the tragedies that marred 2015 when Cole Tucker and Gino Colbert made their final farewells and a couple of twink suicides and some mysterious departures poisoned the holiday season.  There was no high profile porn death in 2016 that I'm aware of, so if somebody knows otherwise, please correct me.  There was one quiet, extenuated and rather low key death: condom porn.  It is ironic that only a couple of years ago, we were talking about the future of bareback porn, and now it's condom porn that's endangered.  Well, as more websites and studios transition into bareback products, it's the future of condom porn that people might discuss, except nobody's interested.  Where does Miss ChiChi LaRue go from here?  Now that's an interesting question.

I do have my favorite bareback video of 2016, but it did occur to me that I really should broaden my perspective a bit.  After all, I haven't just ignored ChiChi's and other condom pornos, but I've also ignored the works of the sources that have moved into bareback, like Michael Lucas.  I can't limit my viewing to Treasure Island, or Knightbreeders, Raw Oreo or Black Swagga, and the machofuckers and asstretchers of he world, can I?  Oh hell, yes I can.  I now know I can.

I thought I should check out a Michael Lucas video just to make sure.  So I bought a copy of 'Whore for More' because of the enticing wrapper (however photoshopped, the Lucas marketing machine is second to none) and because Viktor Rom, a personal favorite, is in it.  You know, Michael Lucas makes a very good product at a very good price.  He casts beautiful, well-groomed men and puts them in enhancing settings.  The production values are the best in the business.  But there is something missing for discriminating consumers like me.  I found myself fast forwarding way too much on 'Whore for More.'  The bottom wasn't a whore; he was just a nice looking kid wanting to get fucked.  I ejected 'Whore' and inserted 'Fill'er Up' (by Treasure Island Media) and the instant I saw Eli Lewis arch his back in anticipation of black cum injections, I knew I wasn't prejudiced against Mr. Lucas; I just concluded that the slut gene is missing.  I either have it or you don't.  I won't be buying any more of his stuff for a while.

The best video of the year to my mind was 'Filling Ryan Cummings,' directed by Koloff and produced by BarebackRTMedia, and available through the bbrts website.  The hard dvd copies flew off the shelves of my local porn emporium and I feel lucky to have one.  I don't do mail order, unless absolutely necessary, as my readers already know.  One scene specifically stands out: Ryan's butt offering to Mick, a versatile number well-known to San Francisco poz tribal members of Grindr, and a contributor to Xtube videos.  It helps that Mick has a big obvious biohazard tattoo and Koloff positions everything for the best views.  Mick cums early and just keeps on going, and Ryan Cummings delivers as he always does, cumming multiple times himself.  Big black dick, cum, biohazard, poz.  There are many of us who get stiffies just thinking of a biohazard tat on a hung black stud, so here you are.  The scene was recorded at a local sex club, for those of you who are into that sort of environment.

Some other observations of the year: Antonio Biaggi, the greatest top of the era subtly fades doing his own thing and his website could be better, but here's wishing he releases some dvds for oldschoolers like me...Armond Rizzo, over-exposed? who gives a shit?...Cody Winter can be the hottest bottom of 2017 if he wants and tries...thank you Paul Morris for bringing stud Mr. Cali into the stable...a Ryan Cummings definitive gangbang was held off for another year...we're looking to see more of XL, Ray Diesel, Kyle Ferris, BamBam, Ray Dalton, Viktor Rom, Jay Frost, Ryan Cummings...and sorry that Rocco Steele retired. Here's lookin' forward to more leather, dick and bareback porn in 2017!

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Jesus and the Gift of Leather

It's two days after Christmas and I'm still in this shitburg cowtown just south of Sacramento, where it's been freezing every night and the daytime temperatures aren't much better, definitely not a sexy time, and I'm taking care of my aged mother and that's about the best of it.  But Christmas Day wasn't all that bad: I spent the entire day breaking in some new-to-me leather gear.

Not that it needed much breaking in, but I'd be an unfeeling fool if I didn't appreciate the significance of it all.  The best shopping in this town can be found in the thrift shops which abound, as every church seems to have one.  I have found well-worn jeans and gym gear at these places, so it wasn't odd to find me pawing my way through the racks alongside the Baby Jane lookalikes, dumpy latinas and redneck babes recently retired from the rodeo circuits.  When, what should I find?  Incredibly, among the usual ugly polyester crap, but a pair of...assless old school black leather with just the right amount of wear and tear.  But wait.  TWO pairs of assless chaps.  One from Pakistan, which didn't ring quite right, and the other from Mexico and sold through a store called Apache Leather, which I couldn't locate on the internet.  I tried them on, and Lordy, they fit.  I don't know how much I would have paid, but at $49.99, I didn't have to mull it over.  I bought 'em.

I think of myself as a master fisting top and am no stranger to leather, but I've never felt right spending hundreds, or thousands of dollars on leather drag.  I grew up poor and lived from week to week until I joined the military, so spending money, even bus fare, was always a careful undertaking.  And it's stuck with me all this time.  But I'm also conservative by nature and I have a natural respect for tradition.  So I got by the leather scene with the minimum: black boots, jeans, tee shirt (always black or white) and a black leather cap which I bought years ago at the leather store that used to be next to the Mack sex club on Folsom.  So I have to consider this opportunity, presented during this Christmas season, as a Sign from the Lord.  Jesus wants me to be properly dressed for my leather lifestyle.  Jesus wants me to get out of those old genuine combat fatigues and into some decent chaps for fisting all those willing asses out there.  And I will.  This is not quite a New Year's Resolution, but let's just say that I do Pay Attention, and I do Believe, and I Will Fist and Get Fucked more in the New Year, God help me.

As Jesus wants me to.  And to all you hungry bottom holes out there, I'll be fisting you all wearing my Gift from the Lord.  Happy New Year!!