Monday, September 26, 2011

Folsom Weekend 2011 - Part Four - Treasure Island Media's 'Banned' Party

It was to be a Treasure Island Media party and to take place in their corporate offices on 9th Street, which actually was part of the world of this year's Folsom Street Fair; I don't think it always was but it was now. For those of you who have never attended Folsom: it's a big street fair celebrating alternative lifestyles and fetishes (leather is only the beginning) which now seems to be dominated by spanking, whipping, flogging...I've never seen so much of it in one place. But I digress...Folsom Street Fair used to be limited to a couple of blocks of Folsom, which runs parallel to main drag Market St., which is three blocks north. But now the cops have blocked off three or four blocks of Folsom - they are the long blocks of a semi-industrial neighborhood - and the side streets also, which happen to carry a lot of crosstown traffic. You don't want to drive south of Market on the day of Folsom.
So, although the TIM event was free, I had to pay to get to it, since 9th St. was also blocked off. More space was added to accommodate the crowds, I think, as the number of exhibitors seems to have increased only slightly; there are lots of food & drink booths, 2 stages for live entertainment and a separate dance area.
When I got to TIM...there was a line to get in (!) as they had to monitor the entries because of the fire code.
I was completely cleaned out and envisioned a sex party atmosphere, like what I saw at the Kok Bar. You never know with TIM, like I've said before. You should be ready for anything.
Well, it wasn't exactly a sex party. Brad McGuire was fucking his partner James Roscoe (the poz half of the inter-status relationship) on a conference was a show for all of us. There was some sucking among the audience but it was pretty minor...I did see Paul Stag, the aggressively butch porn top (I've enjoyed his fucking Ian Jay and Damien Silver) was there - getting sucked off? I can't remember - but I know he was escorting in town all weekend because I saw his posting on barebackrt...I buddylisted him but don't know what I'll do with that.
I did recognize another top, a very hairy stocky shortish guy with glasses who's fucked me twice -once with a condom at a fisting party, and another time, bareback at a Cockpit party, the time it was at the old sex venue on Harrison Street, one of the fucks of a lifetime, did I mention his big dick ? He has a big dick, and today he was completely naked, and seemed to be with someone, so I didn't pursue it.
So there was no orgy like the one at the old Rawhide Bar a few years back. It must have been spontaneous then from what I remember, how it happened. I hadn't cleaned out and therefore could not play, and anyway I had made another date...for dinner at Fisherman's Wharf, so it was a missed connection, and I'll never let that happen again.
Anyway, TIM has been banned (probably permanently) from the Folsom Fair official exhibitors, probably because of the infamous Dawson's Tent, which Paul Morris captured on least, 2 of the fucks.
As I made it kind of late, maybe I missed most of the action, I'll never know unless somebody who was there earlier shares with me. So, I was there near the very end, but there were still a lot of studlets there, shirtless and/or in leather, and they all seemed to know each other, as if they were colleagues. Were they there to clean up after the 'party?' Could they all have been TIM employees and friends? Could Paul Morris' empire now require a staff of 25 or so? Not bad. And, ah yeah, there was a promise for a bigger party next year. The mind boggles. An alternative party on Folsom Sunday. They already had one on Friday in that rather smallish space. More? A Sunday daytime party would be awesome. Well, we can't wait.
Anyway, the rest of my Folsom was devoted to hook-ups not so very interesting, so we'll not spend time relating them, but in general, this was my best Folsom ever.

Folsom Weekend 2011 - Part Three - Kok Bar

After my 960 fiasco, I went straight to the Kok Bar, as it is just a couple of blocks away and Treasure Island Media was throwing a party. You never know with these guys so if TIM's involved, I always make sure I'm clean and ready to go, like I said, you never can tell.
I've blogged about the KOK Bar before; it has a back space that's conducive to some naughtiness, but tonight it was partly screened off, which I took as a green light to follow your instincts.
A Bud Light. Some of the best music to be found in any bar South of Market. A good mix of guys. I ceded the front of the bar to the Silly Millys with their I-phones and their bullshit, and made for the back 'room.'
I got in a sexy mood as soon as porn reliable Jake Wetmore showed up wearing a shirt with biohazard pig on it. I got a bit of rise just seeing him, and then he took his shirt off and some guy went down on him, and I thought this might be was still kinda early.
Back at the bar, I said 'hi' and chatted with Damon Dogg, not telling him he ranked pretty high on my list of San Francisco cheap thrills. Driving past the Treasure Island Media corporate (smile) headquarters on 9th Street and catching Damon taking a smoke break on the sidewalk = cheap thrill. Seeing Damon on 9th St. schlepping shopping bags from the Bath & Beyond store down the block = cheap thrill. Seeing Damon in the smoking patio of the Mix Bar in the Castro, smoking and wearing a red sportjacket or was it a tuxedo (?) = cheap thrill. See what I mean? I didn't tell him any of this. Nice guy, for sure, and a guy who knows how to get the party started. For Folsom Saturday, Damon was dressed in that Air Force jumpsuit barely zippered to his navel (= cheap thrill!) and sauntered into the back room, and started going down on a guy and then it just went crazy from there: a gang of a dozen guys feeling each other up, sucking cock, laughing and swilling beer. Damon then got fucked by about 4 guys in quick succession, and then some of those guys gave up their asses, more sucking and fucking, the sexual heat was on the rise.
It was still kinda early.
Then porn studlet Tyler showed up, shirtless...tall, tan and with those trademark luscious lips, carrying a bunch of shopping bags.
Show me your cock, he said. I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my fat dick that was even moreplumped because I had tied it up for Jayson. That was good enough: Tyler gave me a shopping bag, a wonderful gift of dvd's (including the TIM latest, Up the Gut) among other stuff, including a notice for the TIM contra-Folsom party on Sunday.
Thanks, Paul Morris and Treasure Island. For keeping it hot. All the time.
Damon Dogg was nowhere to be seen, but no matter, because now it was Tyler who was fanning the flames.
More sucking, one guy after another going down on Tyler, and Tyler fucking a couple of gotta understand, it was a crowd, like a circuit party, in a corner of a bar on Folsom Street. Then Tyler fucked a preppy type in a striped Ralph Lauren shirt...nasty college frat boys getting barebacked in a Folsom St bar...nasty...that got me hard.
A black leatherman started patting me ass. Have I mentioned how black guys seem to find me? To get fucked in a bar would be a first for me. What could be better than a bar in SOMA? I turned around and went down on him, doing the best I could but he couldn't get it really hard. The sucking was nice, however.
Such is the 'beauty' of Folsom Weekend. What started out as an expression of the leather lifestyle has blossomed to including just about every fetish imaginable, but still with enough room for frat boys bending over and taking it raw in a quasi-leather bar.
Folsom Weekend 2011.

Folsom Weekend 2011 - Part Two - Jayson's Turn

Folsom, buddy Jayson Park, one of the hardest working bottoms in porn, was doing a video at the new playspace on Folsom Street, the 960, across the street from the Folsom Gulch video arcade. I had signed up through barebackrt to play in the video...with so many guys signing up, about 50 or so, I thought there might be a group scene or an orgy, even...I mean, it's going to be Jayson's video and there seemed to be a lot of interest. I am not a good top anymore. I used to be popular, I wasn't too big nor too small and it took me about 20 minutes to cum, which I did every time, but those were the days. I can still get it up for short latinos and asians and a certain type of white hill billy (sorry guys, my people are from Oklahoma and I can say that), but they ain't gonna get a load out of me, those days are over, damn it.
So when I saw the set-up, I immediately knew it wasn't going to work. There were only 3 or 4 guys there, one of them a hook-up from years ago (poz!) who didn't recognize me. They had Jayse on some kind of platform which was way too small, and it was all one-on-one, no group action around the sling which is what I had envisioned. I'd certainly fail at this and waste everybody's time (and money for the producer), so I politely begged off, and left without ever seeing Jayson or saying 'hi.' Sorry I missed you, Jayse, and since I was in New York last week and didn't have time to do much of anything, that's twice in two weeks that it didn't work out, so I'm doubly sorry.
I did get to check out the new playspace, however (the official opening was the Treasure Island party the night before) and it's not fabulous but better than anything else in SF right now, it can be better than Mack. There's an area with a sling, an area with one upholstered fuck platform but that's pushed against the wall so it's accessible from only two sides rather than four. There's a long gloryhole/butthole gallery and some other spaces towards the back that I couldn't get to because that's where they were making the video. The place seems to have its own entrance, separate from the video arcade next door, the 960, and I don't know if there's a way to get from one to the other from inside. I didn't ask.
I did get to meet Mr. PigMaster the brain behind barebackrt and the film producer Joe Serna, Scott Morris; they are very nice guys. I got a free dvd for showing up, after filling out all the paperwork, which I hope they destroy.
But I didn't get to play with Jayson. Sorry, dude, let's hope for next time.

Folsom Weekend 2011 - Part One - Cum Jar

I made up my mind to travel the cocktrail for as much as possible during the weekend, eventhough I wasn't able to make Treasure Island Media's play party at the new playspace on Friday night, I did my best to make up for it by Saturday morning. I got a bite on barebackrt around 8 a.m., Saturday, from a poz businessman staying at one of the finer hotels downtown...he was in town on business and his business wasn't Folsom. There was a little too much banter between us and I got the feeling he was going to reveal himself as a Chatty Matty and nothing would come of it, especially when he asked me what I was going to do to deserve his load. This was pretty chatty, wouldn't you say? I wrote him that I had a jar of cum in the fridge and I would inject myself with cum before coming over...did he like it cumsloppy or super cumsloppy? He mailed me back his room number and I was I on my way...his hotel is about a 10 minute walk from my apartment. So fast that I couldn't get the cum jar defrosted so I took the whole goddamned jar with me.
I really don't prefer sex in elegant surroundings, for myself or for porn...Christian getting fucked on fine English furniture in a high class hotel sort of messes it up for me despite Christian's porn magnificence and his hard-working tops. So you can imagine me walking into this nicely decorated room with a lot of thought behind every detail. Nothing impulsive ever happens in a room like that.
Fortunately, the gent was from the Middle West and had been to Texas on business and I spied two pair of cowboy dress boots, one black and one brown. The cowboy thing brought things down a bit, making it a little sexier.
I let the tops call the shots, and this man knew what he wanted. He wanted me to keep my head still while he fucked my throat. I kept it perfectly still just like he wanted and did the best I can: I'm not a great cocksucker; I don't really care to have my cock sucked, I can't cum that way, so it never really interested me, cocksucking that is. But the top is the man, and I guess I did OK; he seemed to like it. He asked me about the cum, which had defrosted by this time, so I showed him how I fill myself up using the dollar store plastic injector. This really interested him and he asked me a lot of questions about the cum, but without killing the mood.
How many loads are in there? I said about 30 or 40, but some of it is mine...which is true.
How much of that is poz cum? I said, well, probably most of it, I'm into poz cum but I don't turn down a load that's not charged.
Any black guys' cum? Oh hell yeah. For some reason, black guys dig my ass. I don't necessarily chase them, but they find me...and I try to make it as easy as possible.
Are the black guys' poz, too? Oh hell yeah, come on!
Chatty Matty.
I injected a couple of ounces, making my hole nice and sloppy.
He pushed his dick into my ass, and wham! I could tell the dude was turned on so like he couldn't stand it...and he didn't for very long.
A few strokes, some squishy, slurpy belches from my hole and wham! he shot his load.
It was all very hot because I like being on my back and watching the top's facial expressions. His were great, expressive, honest.
That was awesome, man, I said.
This was a first for him, I could tell.
Don't forget your cum, he said, motioning to the jar on the desk.
I grabbed the jar, put it on the floor, squatted over it and dumped his load into the jar, then swished the jar around to help mix his poz-ness with everybody else's, black guys, white guys, latin guys, my own poz donations.
Well, thanks for coming over, he said. I gotta get ready for a meeting, I was able to switch appoints around to make time for this.
Well, thanks, I said, getting my clothes on...not a bum's rush, as I was eager to get a move on myself, after all, it was Folsom.
I made sure not to forget the jar.