Dore Alley Needs a Piss Tent

I enthusiastically headed down South of Market way to hit the Dore Up Your Alley street fair last weekend, mostly in search of porn. I was hoping that Spunk Video or SX Video would have booths selling dvds at serious markdowns as they have in the past...but alas, I was seriously disappointed. Neither had a booth, and of course, Treasure Island Media has been banned...forever, it seems, from Up Your Alley just as it has from the Folsom Street Fair. There actually was porn for sale, but it was crap from studios like Threshold, Factory, Blue Alley and some others, stuff that wouldn't interest dedicated barebackers.
Dore Alley drew the usual and expected crowd, a lot of guys from out of town who dust off their leather gear a couple times a year and head straight for the Miracle Mile. As usual, the dudes who should keep their clothes on, were the ones who took it all off, and there were whipping demonstrations, the dildo ring toss, dancing in the street, all the stuff you'd expect. But what was interesting were the lines of leathermen waiting for a turn to piss. There were no fewer than 50 or 60 porta-potties and there were long lines for each of them...long, long lines such that one would have to wait 30 minutes to pee. I scanned Mindtrip's great blog 'Life in the Raw' and sure enough, he blogged about fucking a guy while waiting in line and the action continued to the shitcan. There was more than enough time to fuck a couple of hot asses.
Up Your Alley is basically a charity fundraiser. Raising some cash for local charities is the ostensible purpose to have it all. But the organizers of Up Your Alley missed an excellent opportunity to increase their income, and let's see if somebody important sees it as I do: bring on the Piss Tent. Raise a platform and cover it with a big tent, and charge the piss queens to hang out in there and drink up all the piss that's generated by the thousands of gallons of beer consumed from no fewer than a dozen booths, not to mention all the local bars. Design the platform with a trough so that the pissers can pee into the hordes of thirsty throats below. There would be no physical contact at all, so it would be no more 'objectionable' than public flogging. The first step would be to contact all the pissing groups out there, the Wet & Wild crowd. If only the right guys will see it as I do.

Fisting a Porn Star

'What is a porn star?' pornstar Damian Ford asks in Jochim Hick's 'Sex/Life in LA 2' (2005)...does one movie make you a star? Well, Damian, in the twisted world of porn, I'd say 'yes,' but it pays to get the pornstar's name correct, which can be hard since some performers play under more than one name. But I had a brain fart at Tom Fister's party last Dore Up Your Alley night, which was last Sunday night. I had seen this guy before at Tom's parties, and I recognized him as Ray Raven from HDK's 'Roadtrip #3' in a segment where he got gangfucked by the Chris Cohand Houston gang...he has a splendid, fabulous 'abused' (as Jeff Palmer would say) hole, and I knew that I wanted to fuck it, fist it. Last Sunday night I had my chance...he was there!...and after exchanging glances for about half an hour in Tom's 'fisting attic,' we connected. 'No gloves, right?' I asked. 'No gloves,' he said.
And then I blew it...I said, 'aren't you Ray?' 'No,' he said, 'I'm David.' Which was true, no doubt. He got up into the sling and I fisted his hot ass for a good while, and he was a talented, receptive bottom, this David not Ray. His wasn't the deepest hole I've ever fisted...after some work, I finally got my fist completely in but I wasn't able to work it around as I've done in the deepest, widest holes (see the Cathedral City Cove fistfuck) but this was a nice, satisfying encounter. I'm sure it was Ray Raven, though...which would have made it hotter for me...since I buddylisted him last year on barebackrt and he's poz (of course!). Ray Raven. Blissed out after fisting this nice butt, I hit the bars in the Castro (Tom's is just up the street), Toad Hall not much goin' on, Midnight Sun nothin' goin' on, my pal Robert was tending the front bar at The Mix but it was an dull looking crowd and way after midnight...so I bagged it and caught the last Metro train, and was in my own bed by 1 a.m.
Subsequently, I checked my own private porn library and played the Houston segment of 'HDK Road Trip #3' and saw my porn star...he's Roy not Ray Raven, and he's my guy. Roy, Ray, no matter, in bed, alone, I jacked off to the memory of fisting a hot poz butt. Yes, there are porn stars out there, he's a porn star, fuck'em, fist'em.