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Friday, October 26, 2012

Deep in the Jungles of Recon: Life Among The Kinky Nerdy Monkey Boys

It’s nice when life offers up a brand new experience. There is such a plethora of sexual kinks out there and I have been exposed to or become aware of so much, I find it refreshing that, on occasion, even I can stumble onto some undiscovered, fresh terrain.  Last Saturday afternoon was just such an instance.  Part of me felt like Jane Goodall, observing and interacting with an exotic species, while the other part felt incredibly honored and lauded. 
It all began over a year ago.  I happened onto a reference to a site I had never heard of before: Recon; an internet site dedicated to gay kink in the form of bondage, leather, and extreme activities (sounding, fisting, etc.).  Of course, I joined immediately (it’s free) and spent considerable time checking out the profiles of local kinksters while fielding inquiries from those overseas.  On occasion I would strike a chord with one of the locals.  I actually met one person – my movie theatre buddy whom I fooled around with as detailed in a previous post (Ass Play At the Movies: I’m Ready For My Close-Up, 1/20/12), but my fascination with the site proved temporary and, soon,  I stopped visiting altogether. 
Six months went by without me paying any attention to it.
Well, Recon is a pretty savvy site.  They know how to get you to come back.  I got an offer for a 90-day free trial which would allow me complete, unlimited access to the site.  I ignored it for the first 30 days, but, after I had taken some new pics in the locker room at my gym and was updating my other profiles, I decided to also post them on Recon as well.
I tell you, the best way I know to create some renewed interest in an on-line profile?  Post some new pics.  That, along with my unlimited access, allowed me to touch base again with many local kinksters.  One happened to be this 26-year old photographer from a city close to Duluth, MN.  We’d talked quite some time ago, but due to the distance and logistics involved, it never went anywhere.  This time he told me that he would be staying in town at a friend’s place that very weekend and would like to finally meet me.  A time for him to send me the address of where he would be staying was arranged and I waited and planned for the day. Keep in mind that I had yet laid eyes on an actual picture of him; his profile is filled with the photos of others whom he has done sessions with.  In these photos I noticed he had a predilection for duct-taped mouths, mouth gags and hog-tying his willing victims with white nylon rope. I was intrigued.  And, I must confess, a little scared.
That morning, I got up, shaved all my privates, did all my usual maintenance work; I wanted to look as good as I could.  I did not work out, rather, I went shopping.  The timing couldn’t have been better, for just as I’d found and purchased two pairs of black Levis, I got a text from the little kinkster.  He was in town and sent me an address in NE Minneapolis where I was to meet him.  Turned out the place was within the same complex as the movie theatre that I had frequented last winter with my other Recon bud.  I parked, and after waiting in the lobby of this rather high-end building with the security guard at the main desk – who was kind enough to buzz me in – asking repeatedly who I was there to see (I had no idea), I was then told, via text, to exit the lobby and come up the fire escape.  I got outside and was then greeted by two men – one, a good-looking, shorter man about my age with really nice forearms and a tall, cute, blonde, broad-shouldered, young twink-type.  They introduced themselves and guided me upstairs.  Neither of them was the man I was there to see. 
No, he turned out to be on the other side of a rather heavy fire door at the top of the steps.  First impression – he looked like Justin Timberlake (so, for the purposes of this post, I’ll refer to him as Justin) during his scruffy phase.  Turns out he’s cute,   sweet, and a bit nervous and nerdy.  Oddly, I am not nervous at all, which is surprising, considering that I hadn’t expected there to be other people there and was wondering just what I had gotten myself into.  The condo appeared bright and modern, so I’m not creeped-out in the least. I’m escorted into a studio and immediately I get a sense that I know this place… and I do – I’ve seen it in photographs in the profile of another Recon member – a far kinkier member.  His photos are a bit more extreme and sexual than Justin’s.  This worries me for a bit, but I remain cool and professional, as I remain throughout the entire four hours. 
We get to work right away.  He wants me in my street clothes.  He hog ties me with white nylon rope and starts to take pics, as the other two watch.  Eventually he adds a black leather-banded ball gag – a favorite of his.  Initially, he struggles with the camera a bit, but he seems pleased with me.  We work five more scenes; playing in the shower, the bathtub, on a leather couch, and in the studio.  The other two photographers hang around the entire time, observing, commenting, and making suggestions.  After the first scene, I comment that I had assumed I’d be wearing a lot less clothing, and the more experienced photographer chimes in agreement.  I end up wearing much less in the next few sets; black jockeys, white briefs, black Calvin Klein bikinis – but never nude.  Turns out Justin really likes my body, but that nudity is just not his thing.  Duct tape, on the other hand…
Duct tape, when ripped from the mouth, stings.  Big surprise, right? 
The really big surprise?  No sex.  None.  Yes, he touches me on occasion.  He smacks me on the ass, squeezes a nipple, grabs my crotch, but it’s all rather playful – more horseplay than sexual in nature.  And had I bothered to read his profile again completely, I would have remembered this.  On one occasion, he did something to me as I was getting out of the bathtub.  It hurt or surprised me, so I reached back (my hands tied), grabbed his crotch, and squeezed hard.  He squeaked and quickly got the message that whatever it is he had just done was not okay with me.  In the end, the closest we come to sexual contact is when, with me handcuffed,  my hands behind my back and the handcuffs tied to my ankles, he sets me on my knees and puts an ice cube in my underwear, under my balls.  I’m wearing a blindfold and a ball gag at the time, so I found it, in my sensory-deprived state, rather erotic.  He fondled my junk quite a bit during this test (that’s what he called it) and I get aroused (not that it leads to anything).  The biggest reaction I got out of him was that he seemed amazed that the ice cube melted as quickly as it did.  Still, it felt good and I told him as much.
The same could be said about the whole experience.  It felt good.  I got some great compliments.  My ego left definitely well-fed.  Throughout the shoot, Justin showed me the pics after each session and told me he’s happy with what he’s getting.  He kept checking in with me to make sure I’m okay, and, other than a few times when I needed to flip over wearing handcuffs or when the handcuffs cut into my wrists, I was comfortable the whole time.  I leave feeling like Justin got what he wanted and feeling pretty good about myself, as well.  Yes, I’m a little long in the tooth to be doing a photo shoot, but, hey, if the photographer is happy, then I’m happy. 
Justin has promised to send me some of the pics, once they’re edited.  He’s also assured me that they only place they will appear is on the Recon site.  Man, I hope they don’t suck.  I am not exactly photogenic and cringe whenever I see a photo of me that I, myself, have not taken, edited and/or approved.  But you know what?  I have to let that control go in this case; those images belong to him. 
It was an interesting experience – and not what I expected.  I really thought there would be a lot more sex (implied or actual)  – especially with two other dudes around.  But, apparently, for some, bondage is not about sex – it is a kind of art.  In a way, I felt like I had spent the day observing kinky monkey boys/men working out their nerdy obsessions.  There was something rather ‘Big Bang Theory’ about the whole scene, which I think is why I felt so at ease.   I really was able to let my guard down with these total strangers while one of them trussed me up like Bettie Page.  Yes, there was conversation that didn’t have anything to do with the actual photography, but not much.  After the first half hour had passed, I really felt as if I was there to do a job, and nothing more.
I left on a very cordial note.  As I walked back to my car I had no regrets.  Yes, I wished I had gotten my penis photographed, but hey, that’s not his thing.  And as I kept reminding the other two photographers when they would make suggestions – the whole thing was his thing – he was calling the shots, literally.  Would I do it again?  Probably.  I would really like to work with the more extreme dude – he’s into electro-stim, bondage, head masks, and milking scenes (though, I suspect, he is only into young things).   On the other hand, what Justin liked was good, clean fun – so I’m happy to spend more time doing the same, if he’d like. 
I guess the proof will be in the pudding – or, in this case, the actual photos.  I hope they are good enough for him to post and that I haven’t wasted his time.  It would be really cool if they did get posted and somebody actually got off on them.  Eh, we’ll see.
It was great to discover something unexpected.  Bottom line – I found the whole experience to be very refreshing.  Every time I experience something new for the first time, it’s like a sexual reboot; I get a renewed sense of my own power and find that my sexual focus, having been altered, becomes more keen and energetic than before. 
This weekend I plan on paying a visit to a dungeon.  I have some idea of what to expect, as I have had one previous experience in someone’s dungeon, but also know that I need to get the dungeon master my ‘no-fly’ list before submitting to anything.  It should be interesting.  And who knows… maybe my booty will get…
…a leather reboot!

Friday, October 19, 2012

When You Want to Do More Than Just Jack, Use Jack’d

Did I really promise a follow-up to my piece on Grindr and Scruff back in March?  My bad. I really meant to get to it before now.  For, in this gay age, this kind of stuff (phone apps) is really important to the horny homosexual on-the-go.  GPS not only helps you find that new trick’s house/apartment/trailer/dumpster; it can also tell you if that hot guy in the skinny jeans and faux-hawk standing across the mall piazza is up for sucking your dick in the mens room of the nearby JC Penney. 

For this post I’ll be covering Jack’d   I’ll also be giving you an update on what’s new on Scruff.


This set-up is pretty straight forward.  I had no trouble setting up my account and the layout of the program is easy to use as well. 
There are two rows of buttons at the top of the screen.  The first row is fairly self-explanatory: Members, Inbox, Match, Favorites, and Account.  I’ll cover each of these in the features section.  The second row: ???  There’s five symbols, the first of which looks like a series of little boxes.  Press this to change your view on the main/members page.  You can either have member profiles appear in little boxes – like on The Hollywood Squares, or you can opt to show them in list form.  Profiles are sorted according to proximity. 

The next symbol is a circle with tiny lines – I am not sure what it is supposed to be.  It will be greyed out if selected.  I think it has something to do with showing you profiles in your location based on proximity.  Next to it is a stop watch.  You press this and you get a bunch of random guys who are like thousands of miles away from you.  What purpose this serves, I do not know, as I never spend any time in this view.  Who would?  I want to talk to the dude a mile away who I might actually convince to fuck me, not some dude in Atlanta, Georgia whose pic may or may not actually be his. 

Next to that is a little radar screen symbol.  This will bring up a map of the area you are in… which may be really helpful if you’re travelling.  It’s a bit jumpy when zooming in and out and will not show you a little dot that says “You Are Here”.  So, again, I am not sure what this feature is all about, but it may be useful to travelers.  To get out of map mode, you hit the symbol again and it will return you to the main screen.  When in map mode, there is a text box where you can type the name of a city and the map will automatically glide over to show you the location of that city.  That’s kind of nice. 

The last symbol is a little road sign with a curved arrow.  Press it, and two grey boxes appear at the bottom: Scene and Filter.  With Scene you have the option of limiting the profiles you see to those who have indicated an interest in a specific type of dude.  Categories include: All, Twinks, Bears, Big Muscles, Strictly Friends, LTR, and Bi/Straight-curious.  And that’s it.  Seriously.  File this little feature under well-intentioned but under-developed. 

On the other hand, the Filter feature is mega cool and unlike anything on any other app.  Tired of having to scroll through the profiles of a bunch of 18 year olds?  You can specify what age range you’re interested in.  You can also look for a specific height and weight.  Or if you’re only in the mood for a specific race, or you don’t want to be bothered by a specific race, you can sort accordingly (I find this part a little racist, but, just as there are 45 year olds out there who can only get it up for an 18 year old, there are guys out there who are only turned on by a specific race).  You can also filter to only see the profiles of people who are currently on-line, have pictures, or are new users.  The only filter I use is the age one.  I put my range as 29-99.  Which is great for viewing purposes.  Unfortunately, filtering does not work in reverse, and is not the same as blocking. So, while I don’t have to view a bunch of 18 year olds on my members screen, I cannot prevent them from contacting me, and I keep getting hit up by 18 and 19 year olds on this site.  Not that I mind – it is flattering – but I am always suspicious of their motives and am tired of conversations that begin with “Can I suck your dick?”.
Use the back key on your phone to navigate around.

Inbox: Messages appear in list view, by most recent, with a tiny profile pic.  To open a message and subsequently the message history you’ve enjoyed with a given member, just touch the message.  It goes to full screen.  Don’t remember who the dude is or want more info?  To access their profile, click the menu button on your phone, a grey box will appear at the bottom of the screen that says ‘View Profile’.  Hit it and you will be taken to that member’s profile.    Your Inbox will also have a Sent button, and you can see who it is you have unlocked your private pics for or tried to contact, again appearing in order of most recent.

Report: You can tattle on others!  Well, you can report minors, people openly soliciting things they shouldn’t, escorts/sex workers, and folks who post inappropriate pics.  Don’t overuse this feature, or you will get banned.  In other words, this is not the means to get revenge on that bitch who rejected you because ‘you too ugly’. 

Block: Yep, you can block ‘em, but once that is done, they are gone forever.  You can’t unblock, check them out, and then re-block. 

Members: Orange Dot= Off-Line, Green Dot=On-Line.  Sorted by proximity. 

Match: Jack’d ‘matches’ you with someone.  You have the option to skip, indicate you’re interested, or decline.  There’s also a world-wide picture match.  I have no idea what criteria they use to make any of these matches.

Favorites: You can designate someone as a favorite.  You can see who has designated you as a favorite.  And you can see who has viewed your profile.
Under ‘Account’ you can: Make a Donation, Insight, Pictures, Basic Profile, Detail Profile, FAQ, Tell A Friend and Sound, Password Lock, and Viewed By.

Make a Donation: It’s a free service, but it costs money to maintain and improve.  If you’re feeling philanthropic and want to contribute, this is for you.

Insight: This is a fascinating little feature. It is like a mini report out with graphs about your preferences and activities on the site, including Reply Rate (mine is 75%), Age (range of interest: mine is 40-49), Average Height (6’) and Weight (220!), Scene (50% Strictly Friends/50% Big Muscles), Ethnicity (100% Caucasian!  I don’t think so!).  These stats update on a weekly basis, and are not cumulative.  Kind of cool.

Pictures: You get three public – no nudes allowed – one of which will be used for your main profile pic, and you get two private ones which you have the option to unlock for other members.  Unlocking is a great way to introduce yourself to others on the site, or not, if you get one of those psychos who insist they are not on-line to look at penises (fucking liars).  The site itself does not monitor what you put up, but if another member reports you, you could have that pic disappear or be banned from the site.  So read the guidelines and remain somewhat conservative in your choices for your public pics.  A face pic will get you more attention than a torso shot. 

Basic Profile: Includes Email (not sure why – you can’t share it), Password (which you can disable under Filters), First/Last Name, Age, Height, Weight, Ethnicity, Some General Info Box (I list my activities outside the bedroom), Scene (Twinks, Bears, Big Muscles, Strictly Friends, LTR, and Bi/Straight-curious) and the option to have your stats listed as miles/pounds or km/kg.
Detail Profile: This is where Jack’d kind of has it over all the others.  You can list: Location, Activities, Interest, Music, Movies, and Books

Sound, Password Lock, and Viewed By are all on/off features.  Password Lock and Veiwed By are only available to members who make a donation

FAQ: Basic questions/Straight forward answers

Tell A Friend:  Share the fact that you are using the app with someone via Bluetooth or Email

Viewing Other People’s Profiles
When you are looking at someone’s profile, their public pics will appear in small form on the left of their profile.  Their private pics will appear here also, once the member unlocks them for you.  To view a pic in full size, touch the pic.  To return to the profile, hit the back key on your phone. Any info the member has chosen to share with the dudes of Jack’d will appear on the right side of the profile. In the upper right of a profile, you will see a little road sign with a curved arrow.  You can touch this or use the menu button on your phone to access more options – including Message, Favorite, Unlock Pics, Insight (unless you donate all you will learn about their user habits is % of replies), Interested, and More.  More will take you to Block, Report and Cancel.   

Performance on Droid:
Overall Good.  Sometimes it takes a long time to load a profile, but again, this one performs much better than, say Grindr

You can’t sign off.  Your profile will disappear from the list of members on view after three days and will denote your account as not on-line, but that profile remains up there for dudes to click on for three whole days after you are no longer looking.  That just allows others to contact you and keeps you coming back on-line to respond to their messages.  A little icon will appear at the top of your phone (the same place that notifies you re: new text messages) when you get a new message on Jack’d.  So, if you’re one of those closet cases, or are terrified others might find out IT’S YOU – then this is not the app for you.  That said, you can always upload some lame picture of your cat or favorite hunk of flora.  Then nobody will know IT’S YOU, but then nobody is likely to hit on you either and keep in mind that other may find it annoying when you hit on them because you have no self pic. 

There is no way to send someone a picture on the app.
Member Matches: using what criteria?  You would think that, say, having the same book listed under favorite books in your profile would match you up, but, no.  Some of the profiles I am matched with have no details, so I have no idea why they would think I, who list just about everything in my profile, would have something in common with someone who shares nothing.

Loading Profile Pics can be a bit slow.
Everything you can imagine.  Jocks, Pigs, Aging Circuit Boys, Twinks, Chickenhawks, The Boy Next Door… you name it, it’s here.  The nice thing about this site?  It seems everyone who is on here knows exactly what this site is for, so I have had very few bad experiences.  The guys are well behaved and down to earth.  I really enjoy it when somebody unlocks their pics, because it is usually a pleasant surprise.  Yes, I have hooked up with a few on this site.  My success rate on Scruff has been better, but this one has done well for me, too. 
So, that about covers everything I have to share about Jack’d.  I like it because the owners/operators of the site really allow the membership to dictate what is acceptable and appropriate.  I also like that it doesn’t kid itself into pretending to be something (a dating site) that it is not.

Scruff Update

Scruff continues to lead the pack as far as innovation.  One of their latest editions is a private pic feature.  You can upload up to three naughty photos if you are not a member – unlimited for members.   You can unlock for any member you want and relock them at any time.   It’s nice, because not being able to see more than one photo of someone was kind of a drag, and also, now you can indicate you’re interested in them by unlocking.  Non-members have a limited number of profiles they can unlock for at one time. 

Also check out under Profile Editor the Community options and the Open To options.  Kind of fun.

The other thing I have noticed?  The people that run Scruff have come to accept that gay dudes have waists.  I used to have my pics removed from this site for showing the waist of my work out pants! But something (the other profiles) tells me that they have relaxed their stringent guidelines.  Yay!

Next Time:  I’ll take a look at GROWLr, an app that keeps bears happy in winter and summer alike.

Friday, October 12, 2012

A Little Less Action, But A Lot More Conversation

It’s pretty rare that a first rate fuck turns into that totally unexpected thing - a great conversation.  But that’s just what happened to me last Saturday afternoon. 
I hooked up with this guy I’d been flirting with on A4A a few weeks before.  We’d been texting back and forth.  He struck me as not only cute, but clever as well, and I find that such wit serves as a great aphrodisiac.  I was intrigued.  He kept inviting me over, but due to other commitments nothing seemed to work out. 

Saturday morning I was in my bathroom doing my weekly maintenance routine, when I get a text from him.  He’s available.  I had planned on going shopping and thought, well, why not stop over at his place for a little something and then hit the racks?  I completed my regimen and we made a date.  Getting to his apartment was a breeze and things seemed to be flowing quite easily; none of the usual drama associated with finding someone’s home for the first time.  Even my GPS system seemed to approve.
We met in the lobby of his building.  He’s shorter and much cuter than I imagined.  There’s something very quietly masculine about him and I’m a tad intimidated, but resist the urge to ask him if he’s ‘okay’ with me.  I followed him up to his place, making small talk, taking in the view of his exquisite calves and ass the entire way.   
His place is nice – a little generic, but definitely well-appointed, maintained, and lived in.  He introduces his pets and we head off to the bedroom where we waste no time getting down to business.  He’s a bit furry, with a carpet of it on his chest, and a body type, skin tone, and coloring that practically screams “I’m Irish”.  His hair has a natural reddish tint to it and I fall in love with his nose instantly, though it’s his eyes that really get to me.  The way he looks at me, as if really seeing me.  
Right off the bat he makes it’s clear he’s primarily interested in my ass and I realize that this is not going to be an ordinary fuck and go.  The man takes his time.  Teasing my hole, entering and pulling out slowly, changing positions, changing tempos – it’s all languid while remaining intense.  He’s fairly quiet as he goes about his business, leaving me to pretty much say whatever the fuck I want.  It’s not until the very end, during the last great crescendo that I come to the realization that I need to shut my pie hole and stow the usual porno dialogue; this dude really digs silence.  And, in the end, I come to remember its power as well.
His dick is about seven inches, reasonably thick with a slight curve.  I tell him early on that it’s clear to me that he knows how to fuck, as he uses what he’s got for maximum pleasure.  There’s no poppers, so I really remain in the moment with him, feeling every inch as it ebbs and flows inside me.  Our eyes rarely leave one another’s and, even though I purposely switch over to doggy-style at one point, it is very clear that he prefers me on my back so he can gaze intensely into my eyes. 

He let me know right away that his nipples were hardwired to his dick, but if that gives you the impression that I was going to get to crank on those puppies for all they were worth, tugging and pulling to maximize his pleasure, you’re wrong.  He’s a sensitive one.  So I have a great time pressing firmly or fluttering the tips of my fingers over his nips, experimenting with the gentlest ways I can think of to keep him aroused.  His dick, as it turns out, is quite sensitive as well.  This perhaps helps to explain why his movements are so incredibly and deliciously deliberate.  And if that makes you think that he comes like a pop tart, well, again, you’d be wrong.  What I assume is going to be the usual 20 minute cum and go, proliferates quite naturally into a languid 60 minute fuck.  We only take one break and that’s because he wants to keep his balls in play for as long as possible. 
I must say, I walk away from the experience totally impressed by this man’s stamina and discipline.  This one was something I’d never experienced before, and in writing this, I remain haunted by the look in his eyes while easing his dick in and out of my ass.   It’s an experience I wouldn’t mind repeating.
I did get to do a bit of sucking, but he seemed to tolerate me doing so, as if he only saw its value as a means of increasing my pleasure.  He did suck on me briefly as well, but I could tell his heart really wasn’t into it.  And the kissing… not the deep face-sucking I kept expecting.  He kept it very, well, almost chaste, if you will.  Lots of lips pressed on lips, but very little tongue, and yet, I have to say that he’s an excellent kisser; not a dramatic one by any means, but then, maybe less is more in this case.  The whole experience has left me wanting.  The lack of frantic grappling, the power of delayed gratification, the discipline and quiet strength – left me feeling incredibly invigorated rather than depleted; as if I’d gained more than I’d given. 
Then the most surprising thing of all took place.  Rather than hurry off to the bathroom or any of the usual maneuvers in order to guarantee a hasty exit on my part, we simply lay side by side, entwined and… gasp! – talked.
Topics covered: sexual preferences, travel history, impressions of the men in Minnesota, group sex, sex parties, sex in the age of the internet, bareback sex, frequency of sex; to name a few.  Turns out he has sex about five times a week.  I am currently maintaining a surprising 2/3 encounters per week (something I’m quite proud of, as I am seeking quality now, not quantity).  We talk about living in L.A. and he asks during what time period I was in L.A., for he grew up there.  I tell him the time span and comment that I suppose he was in high school at the time.  No, he tells me and my heart kind of gets a little excited, thinking – oh, he’s older than I thought and maybe we will have something in common.  But no, turns out he was in grade school at the time!  He’s 26 years old – an amazing 26 years old, for he’s incredibly disciplined about his life, very intelligent, well-traveled and… a very good lover.  But, still; he’s 26 years old.
The conversation then took a rather odd turn.  We talked about HIV and AIDS and its effect on the heterosexual population’s view of homosexuals.  The jumping off point for this had something to do with the upcoming marriage amendment vote, but the conversation became more about whether the HIV and AIDS crisis has hurt us or helped us, as a people, find equality.  He argued that it had hurt us.  He has spoken to a number of hetero friends and it seems that when they think about gay men, they view them as disease carriers and something to be avoided.  Therefore, my Irish rogue felt that such a view bathes gay folk in a negative light and has hurt our quest for equality. 
And that’s the crisis as viewed through 26 year old eyes.
I totally disagreed with him.  I explained that in a very sad, costly way, HIV and the AIDs Crisis actually helped galvanize our community and the world.  I remind him that Ronald Regan spent 8 years in office and never said the word AIDs until 1985 (once - at a press conference.  He also wrote about it in his "Message to the Congress on America's Agenda for the Future" in 1986), even though we were at the height of the crisis and thousands of people were dying. That said, he didn’t do nearly enough to help stem the tide.  But that rather neatly sums up just how uncomfortable people were with the notion of gay people.  The world, up until that time, really preferred that gay people be not seen or heard - and were never, ever to be talked about, except in whispers of innuendo.  But AIDs changed that.  And so did the activists that made sure it got the attention it deserved.  As much as many of their actions pained me at the time, groups like ACT UP were important not only in the drive to bring attention to the AIDs crisis, but also in our drive to be treated as equal citizens of the world.  As non-mainstream as their actions were, such groups actually served to bring gay people into the mainstream consciousness of the world. 
My new friend’s ignorance is one due to perspective.  He doesn’t know about a time when gay bars were dark places with no windows that did everything they could not to call attention to themselves.  I illustrate just how far we have come by explaining how relatively new the notion of being in a gay bar with giant windows is – where, not only can we see out onto the street, but those on the street can see us!  I tell him about my own coming out process, how – even in the relatively homo-happy confines of the theatre world – coming out, being gay was discouraged, frowned upon and warned against.  And yet, it is that same world that would bring the world “Angels in America”, “As Is”, and “The Normal Heart” which helped put human voices and faces to the AIDs crisis, and therefore raised the profile of gay folk in the process.
The cost was high.  People paid with their lives and we mourn those losses to this day.  But because of that tragedy, I am now able to go to mass on Sunday and hear the phrase gender-identification and sexual orientation being talked about in terms of inclusion, rather than revulsion.  And for every bigot like Archbishop Nienstedt , there is a priest or brother in the field demanding that we follow the true teachings of Christ and learn to love one another. 
And while the inclusion and identification of the gay population was probably an eventuality – a historical inevitability - it would not have come about as quickly if it were not for the AIDs crisis. 
He conceded that he was without my perspective.  And that made me feel incredibly old, but that was okay.  I’d rather have that perspective.  I’d rather have that experience.  Our conversation made me realize just how little I have in common with someone his age.  No wonder the young think old people are weird; old people are working with information the young are not privy to.
We talked a bit more.  Generic things.  He offered, so, I showered.  There was something about his bathroom that made me feel like I was using one in a hotel room – it was that clean, that carefully appointed. 
I text him once more to thank him.  He texts me three days later telling me that he never got my last name.  Turns out, he, too, keeps a sex diary – only he uses last names.  I text him back and tell him to make one up.  I doubt I will ever see him again, but then, there’s a part of me that desperately hopes that I will.  He’s intelligent.  And thoughtful.  And a great – intriguing – fuck.  I know there is no way in hell that he’s interested in having a relationship with me and I rarely kid myself into thinking for a moment that I am relationship material.  Still, I like the notion of falling in love with someone without all the logistics of actually being together or joining lives or even trying to see each other on a regular basis.  I like the idea of falling in love.  And in a way, I guess I have… I mean there is a lot there to admire. 
But I don’t kid myself.  I’m too old for him and he can do soooooo much better. 
So, it’s bittersweet. 
Just like so many moments in gay history.

Friday, October 05, 2012

Acquired Tastes, XIX: Outdoor Sex


With the season definitely coming to a close (although I hear there is a chance of an Indian Summer in a couple of weeks), I thought it would be a good time to visit this particular Acquired Taste.  This one is certainly not one for the meek, prudish, or skittish.  Nor is it for those who dread dirt, sand, leaves, and mosquito bites.  Sure, one can do it in an urban setting outdoors, like say in a dim alley, but that is a different vibe with different consequences. 

Outdoor sex has a lot in common with Camping, another topic I covered earlier in this series.  However, camping is quite deliberate – like going to a destination restaurant – it takes preparation and is of sole purpose.  Outdoor sex is a lot more accidental and haphazard.  Sure, you can arrange with someone to meet at a certain park, but the fact is, you won’t have the privacy afforded with a tent, so an element of exhibitionism comes into play.  With camping, you have the safety of the tent, and although others might surmise what you’re doing in there, what you’re doing in there is not illegal.  Outdoor sex most certainly is… illegal.  And I think that’s part of what makes it so much fun.

So, let’s cruise on over to the local park, go down by the river, find a choice spot in the busiest parking lot, take a walk in the woods, and examine the allure and the moth-to-flame dynamics of…

Outdoor Sex

Scope of Activity:
For the sake of this article, we will only concern ourselves with fucking and sucking outdoors.  Breeders do it as much, or more than gay men, but when busted, heteros rarely get their names posted in the papers.  Outdoor sex may, or may not involve nudism, though it definitely involves naturism – as I define it, which is the attachment of an erotic element to nature (the woods, the beach, etc.). 

The Official Line:

It’s illegal, thanks to people like Reverend Lovejoy’s wife who are constantly screaming, “Think of the children! Won’t somebody please think of the children!”  And, yes, it is very important when pursuing outdoor sex that one keep in mind ‘the children’.  You should definitely avoid areas near playgrounds or public pools, or anywhere children may gather.  It should be noted that in many states, if caught, one must register as a sex offender – which is nonsense, but that threat keeps those faint of heart from pursuing this, which curtails traffic, and which in turn helps to cut down the number of times per year the local vice squad is forced to run through the bushes looking for offenders. 

From Wikipedia:

“Public sex refers to sexual acts that take place in public or semi-public places, and does not necessarily imply that the sexual activity takes place outdoors. Public places where sex acts can be performed include a car (commonly called parking), on a beach, in the woods, as well as in a theatre, bus, or street, besides other places. Other known places where public sex has taken place include a toilet, cubicle or a cemetery. Public sex can also refer to sexual activity which takes place in a private place but can be viewed in a public place. Such private places can include the back yard or even the bedroom with the curtains open.
Social views related to public sex and sexuality vary greatly between different cultures and different times. There are many and varied laws which apply to sex in public, which use a variety of terms such as indecent exposure, public lewdness, gross indecency beside others. In some jurisdictions an offense is committed only if the participants are seen by others.”

As mentioned, this post will deal only with outdoor sex that takes place in the woods, prairies, beaches and the like, and include an element of naturism.

Naturism or nudism is a cultural and political movement practicing, advocating and defending social nudity in private and in public. It may also refer to a lifestyle based on personal, family and/or social nudism.

Several other terms ("social nudity", "public nudity", "skinny dipping", "sunning", and, recently, "clothes-free") have been proposed as alternative terms for naturism, but none has found the same widespread public acceptance as the older terms "naturism" and (in much of the United States) "nudism".

Naturism can contain aspects of eroticism for some people, although many modern naturists and naturist organizations argue it need not. The lay public and the media often oversimplify this relationship.

Note: Farms can also be a wonderful opportunity for fun outdoors, too – and much safer, with less risk of discovery (provided you know the owner). 

My Experience:

There should be a book of rules. 
Unfortunately, there is not and one must learn how to navigate the treacherous waters of outdoor sex by feeling your way through it.  Fortunately, as you journey forth you will come in contact with other enthusiasts and they will most certainly offer insight and advice – that’s how I learned. 

Ideally, outdoor sex takes place in the summer and to a lesser extent in the spring and fall.  That said, I have had sex outdoors in the winter.  I love those days in winter when the skies are clear, the sun exceedingly bright, the snow pristine, and there is no wind; yes, the best days to ski are also the perfect days to get it on in the snow.  Winter excursions are fraught with issues, of course.  There’s the cold, for one thing, and snow melts, so being wet and cold?  Not very sex-friendly.   The nice thing about winter sex, rare though it is, is that you can usually get away with doing it right out in the open, without the sanctuary of trees because: 1/ it’s cold and less people are likely to be about and 2/ the cold generally encourages economy of movement and succinct sex. 

I remember two such occasions, when conditions were just right and winter sex was possible; both felt like drive-by shootings; so random, quick, and intense.  As is always the case with outdoor sex, the less clothing the better, this in winter certainly is a challenge. The one dude, a short, hairless, twink cutie whose skin was as pale as the snow, got around this by wearing only a one-piece snowmobile suit with a zipper down the front.  When he unzipped and let that puppy drop behind him, he was pretty much nude, which made raping his cute little butt all the easier.  I was wearing jeans without underwear and a zipper jacket minus shirt, so I, too had little to discard.  I remember the sun being as insanely intense as our coupling, with, once we got started, little regard of others discovering us.  It was like a scene out of one of those nature films where two animals come upon one another – it was swift, powerful, and slightly tinged with violence.  And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it ended and we walked our separate ways.  Barely a word had passed between us other than the usual demands for sexual compliance and submission. 

Sometimes I think that is the way all sex should be. 
However sweet that memory may be, my preference is for warmer days.  This summer I definitely took advantage of the wonderful weather.  Others may complain about those days when the humidity is unbearable and the sun intense, but I welcome them with open thighs.  A little sweat in the mix only adds to the allure of this rather animalistic practice; for there is something truly primal about being in nature, in the raw, fucking.  It takes us back to the days of the cavemen, but instead of bashing each other’s brains in, we’re fucking them out. 

I have my favorite haunts, and many of those exploits make up the bulk of my posts on this blog.  I never share the exact locations, for the most obvious of reasons.  The internet, which certainly did a lot to help connect people who were interested in pursuing sex outdoors with strangers by providing locations to do the dirty deed, also did a lot of harm.  Law enforcement got wind of the likes of Squirt, Cruising Gays, and even Yelp!, bringing a quick end to a lot of the tea room scene and many an outdoor cruising area.  However, gays getting it on in the great outdoors is really more of a nuisance crime, and it would reason that it’s rather low on the priority list of crimes against society (not that there aren’t certain vice cops in Minneapolis who make it their mission in life to ruin such fun).  So it pays to be careful out there.  Always be aware of your surroundings, stay as far away from playgrounds as possible, avoid family gathering places, stay on your toes, etc.  I would also caution you about pursuing sex in areas you know little about, such as, when travelling.  Knowing your territory well and being aware of whatever the local attitude is regarding outdoor sex can save you considerable time, embarrassment, and a trip back to headquarters with the local po-po. 
I pretty much surrendered the prairie, one of my usual haunts, this year.  The vibe was not right from the beginning of the season and attendance had dropped (according to those who still frequented the place) to an all-time low.  And that’s exactly the results the good people at The Parks and Wrecks Department had hoped for.  Pity.  In days of yore, that place, on a sunny weekend afternoon, was one giant orgy.  But trust me, no matter the current state or level of supposed enforcement/surveillance in any established cruising area, with perseverance, patience and a bit of luck and ingenuity, people will be and are still having sex in the great outdoors.

This summer my mode of operendi became sunning on a blanket wearing a cute little jock from Pistol Pete’s line of sexy wear.  Flipping over and getting on all fours at just the right moment pretty much guaranteed that I got me the action I was seeking.  That’s where the exhibitionistic part of all this comes into play.  In order to attract the kind of attention you want, you need to put the message out there by advertising your desires discreetly.  It’s a fine line to walk, for sure, but when it pays off, you get exactly what you came for.

Newbies always ask, but how do you know if someone is interested?  Well, you develop a kind of radar about it, I call it my ‘spidey’ senses.  When subtle, it’s in a look, a glance, a posture, or a gesture.  And when it’s not it’s a dick waving at you from behind a tree.  The newbies also always ask, how can you tell if it’s a cop?  Well, one rule is, never touch your groin area or expose yourself until they do.  Cops will rub their crotches; however they will not haul their willy out for viewing.  That said, if that’s the method you and everybody else chooses to employ, then nobody will ever take their dicks out and, hence, nobody will be getting off.  So here is another rule of thumb I use… if it seems too good to be true, then it could be a cop! But hey, these are tips for cruising, and probably best left for a different entry (pun unintended).
But before moving on, I would like to offer you one more word of caution… don’t be like the foolish man who recently bound himself spread eagle and blindfolded along a river trail.  He was hoping to be found by some adventurous soul who would humiliate and torture him in delicious and salacious ways.  Instead, he was discovered by the DNR who were canoeing about looking for people fishing without a license.  The story got picked up by the local television news shows and the dude’s mug shot got plastered everywhere.  I, of course, recognized him as this odd creeper who spent a lot of time in the cab of his truck watching porn on his laptop in the parking lot of one of my favorite hangs.  On occasion, he would leave me notes on my car instructing me to come down to the river’s edge and find him tied up.  Eh.  Not for me.  He was kind of gross.  And he couldn’t get it up (chain smoker).  A female friend of mine, who knew I was something of a park cruiser, alerted me to the story.  I was not surprised, but definitely chastened (There, for the grace, go I).  Poor guy.  All that drama for nothing.  That kind of brazen display rarely gets you the kind of attention you seek. So keep it subtle and under the radar kids.

My favorite fuck this summer was definitely my cute black dude with the Eurasian eyes.  We fucked four times and each one was a little more out there, a little longer, a little more daring.  He’s cute as hell and cocky.  From his very first approach I was sold.  He had his finger on my button within moments of ‘hello’.  We were careful when in the view of others, but that didn’t stop me from mounting his dick or finger right out in the open, there on my sunning blanket.  Not that we wanted anyone to see.  He was so cute; I really did want to keep him all to myself.  Other cruisers would tell me he was fucking about with anything that moved, and that put me off him for about a month, but his pull was too great.  I couldn’t resist him. 
It was in his kiss.  And in the care he took when fucking me.  Sure, we were outdoors, but that is never a reason to go all roadrunner on my ass.  I loved his dick.  It had the sweetest curve, a great width, and perfect length (8”).  He was young, but really smart about the world.  Where others tend to be a tiny bit anxious when having sex outdoors, he simply took everything in stride.  We talked.  AND THAT is a true rarity in outdoor sex scenarios. But from the word go, I never felt there was a topic off limits or things that should remain unsaid.  I spoke my mind and he listened.  He shared his plans and dreams.  It was sort of a great summer romance – you know, except for that part where he was fucking around with anything that moved.  Still… he was sexy and he belonged to the whole summer, not just me.  

The sex was great.  We must have fucked in every position possible.  I never felt more flexible, more confident (in my body), and, at the same time, more vulnerable. But that’s a great way to feel.  Exhilarating, actually.  I haven’t seen him in over a month and I worry that something bad happened, and that is the reason he’s not hanging around the park anymore.  I hope that’s not the case.

I miss him. 

Anonymity certainly plays a part in the thrill of outdoor sex.  I’ve fooled around with so many dudes outside that their faces actually seem to be, for the most part, one big blur (although there were certainly a number of very memorable appendages).   I’ve stopped trying to remember people’s names – when names are shared.  I never get them right.  The anonymity, urgency with which the deed is often done, and lack of conversation does not make for a situation conducive to discussions re: safe sex.  Therefore, be safe, not sorry.  Condoms not only help prevent you from bringing something unwanted home with you, but they also make for easy clean up.  Trust me, shit on your dick is one thing in the privacy of your home or their home… but it is an entirely different type of headache (and a likely one, if not using condoms, given the spur-of-the-moment nature of outdoor sex) and a total hassle when fucking in the splendor of Mother Nature.  Have you ever tried to wipe shit off your dick with a leaf?  If yes, then you know what I’m talking about.  Don’t want to contemplate having to put a shit covered dick back in your pants?  Then use a condom!  Of course, handy, pocket-sized wet wipes are always an option – but, if you choose that option, hey… do us all a favor and follow camper’s rule number one – whatever you bring into the forest, leaves with you.  Don’t litter.  It’s gross, draws unwanted attention to an area, and is morally wrong. 
Oh, and another bit of advice – if the bugs are bad and it bugs you to get bit?  Stay home.  Seriously, getting down and dirty with a dude covered in bug spray is gawd awful.  You get that stuff in your mouth and trust me, the last thing you are going to want to do is fuck like bunnies.  So, lay off the OFF if you want to get off. Got it?

When I first started blogging, I posted a piece about my travelling sex kit.  Check the archives.  It may need to be updated, but there are a lot of great suggestions of things to have on hand when pursuing sex in the great outdoors, so I encourage you to read it. 

Finally, and not to get go all new age on you, but there is something about sex in nature that speaks to my very soul.  It goes beyond the excitement of gay porn being acted out in real life.  It goes beyond the mere thrill of anonymous sex or the possibility of discovery.  It is even mightier than the orgasm itself.  Yes, it does have something to do with that primal part of me, but also, there is a spiritual part to it.  The sun, the shadows, the smell of the earth, the bountiful textures and sights… it fills me with a kind of love that flourishes no matter (and sometimes in spite of) the person I’m with.

It is my life’s romance. 

My Conclusion:
Communing with nature is a marvelous thing.  Thank the heavens for the beauty that is this nation’s parks system.  It has provided me with untold hours of fun, and yes, on occasion, frustration (which is sort of part of the fun).  Sure, the way is fraught with risk, but then sex – if really delved into - is not for the faint of heart, and nowhere is that truer than when it comes to sex outdoors. 

I have experienced great joy on rocks and logs, amidst trees and tall grass, on sand, in surf, and with celestial views.  I’ve been really fortunate, in so many ways.  For example, I have never been arrested for having sex outdoors.  And I hope it stays that way; for I would hate to be banished from a park for life, just as I would hate to miss out on a summer in fun. 

I’ve touched on a few of the most glaring issues facing those brave enough to dip their toes in these perilous waters.  And, again, I caution you: this activity is not for the skittish – for if fear of being discovered is foremost in your mind, you will not enjoy the experience.  For those foolhardy enough to give it a try, I hope you discover the kind of spiritual excitement that I have found. 

I believe outdoor sex is more than just a cheap thrill.  It can be a means of spiritual fulfillment.

Okay, kids… time to hit the trails.