IT’S OUT OF THE BAG

The cat (and a few other things) are out of the bag.

After a few days at Riverside, I finally had to pack up and head back to the real world.

Damn, work can get in the way of your life, can’t it? As I’m saying goodbye to my good buddies, Patrick gives me a hug and says “see you on the 15th”, Greg shoots him a dirty look, not sexy dirty, but “Dude, he’s not suppose to know” dirty.

As far as I know – up to this point – the 15th is a brunch that Justin and his hubbies are planning for me, followed by a little frolic (as often happens at their place) for my birthday. Now I know differently, but I have to backtrack a little.

A few months ago, after a particularly experimental session Justin and I were lolling about in a sweaty mass of post coital glow when the topic turned to unfulfilled sexual fantasies. Well, neither Justin or I have been particularly reticent in this department, so the list was small…unless you include truly fantastic fantasies (I have yet to have sex with an actual satyr) but there was one thing that had never quite come together, butt – and this is a big butt – it’s happening on the 15th.

My awesome man is planning a gang bang on my birthday.

Followed by a lovely brunch of course…we have to be civilized about these things.

Now…I need to get my hands on that guest list…and the guests. I promise a full report when it’s over and I’ve recovered.

0

More Pride…Heck Yah.

Enjoying my last full day at Riverside Campground. Last week an owner of a number of campgrounds around Ontario came to visit at the invitation of the new owners and couldn’t believe this place. My family camped a lot when I was a kid I know what he’s talking about; the place is amazing. He can’t believe how much pride the residents show for the place…that word again…PRIDE!

It’s not just the gay aesthetic, although you can’t deny just how fabulous that can be, it’s not just pride in who and how we love, although you can’t deny just how fabulous that can be either. That’s a HUGE start, but goes SO MUCH FURTHER than that. It’s about finding a community that not only accepts us, but celebrates us. Most of us we grew up believing we would never fit in. Places like Riverside are testaments to having found tribe, Pride in ourselves breeds pride in our environment.

Of course it’s fabulous, how could it be any other way?

0

Shakin’ it at Studio 54 (kinda)

I’m at Riverside, an awesome gay campground outside Tweed Ontario, with my friends Patrick and Greg who have a trailer here all year. I’m having a great time reconnecting with good friends and making new connections.

Last night there was a Studio 54 themed dance. I was dreading it. I’d survived the actual 70’s as a closeted teen and I had no desire to revisit. Having the most conservative parents in a very conservative town meant that a good time was had by none.

I’d stolen…I mean borrowed…a flashy shirt from Justin and reluctantly shuffled my way to Studio 54 at the pavilion. I don’t think I was pulling off more than a Studio 51.5 but there was some serious spectacular spandex out there and some of those dudes were almost making Studio 69.

I danced.

This may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but it was to me. I let loose and for the first time since I was a child, I danced like no one was looking…it turned out a few of them were looking and I was never dancing alone. Maybe it was the Abba in the air, but I embraced my wee inner dancing queen and let her out.

Suddenly Sister Sledge was singing about their sisters and I realized just how far I’d come. I want to reach back to that scared awkward kid and tell him that it’s going to get so much better, that there is family that loves you, there are guys who will want to dance (and SO much more) with you, and yes, you will indeed shake your sexy bootie on the dancefloor.

0

Checkin’ ALL my Boxes

About a year ago, I decided it was time for a boyfriend. My therapist agreed, she hadn’t a few months earlier, and encouraged me to get clear on the kind of guy I wanted.

I went a little overboard; I have a habit of doing that. What if I could design a truly perfect boyfriend? It was an interesting exercise, that forced me to get clear on what mattered. 

I started brainstorming big things first: sexual compatibility, humour, etc., then I got a little silly, writing down every little thing that would make him perfect, including a very narrow age range, a part of the city and even the sort of job he should have. Then I edited clearing out things that weren’t REALLY important, narrowing down to the dealbreakers.

A few random weeks later I randomly woofed some random dude on Scruff; I woof a LOT so this wasn’t a big deal.

Then he woofed back.

“Hey Sexy, what’s up?”

And this is how it started. It’s been almost a year later and I’m convinced that there’s a power in clear intentions, you can call it manifesting or energy or whatever you want, but this dude who makes me laugh, melts my heart, hardens my cock and always puts a smile on my face has ticked off ALL of the boxes, even the ridiculous ones that didn’t really matter.

Now if only I’d added a box about his choice in entertainment…good thing there’s a little common ground…and a little compromise there. It was nice to see how they finally found Dory.

2

The Skye has no limits…at least with me

It’s no secret that I love porn, but what might be a little less known is that I have a favourite porn actor. I have a HUGE crush on Manuel Skye…seriously, check this dude out. Of course, there are the obvious reasons, he’s hung, muscled and handsome. He’s also an awesome top, but with just a little research it’s easy to find out that he’s also smart, practices Yoga (that would explain the awesome flexibility) and has a very strong spiritual side. For me, this is an awesome mix. Add to the mix that he’s Canadian (the French accent is a big turn on) and I’ve got a slam dunk. SLAM DUNK? OMG he’s got me using sports metaphors, he must be good.

When I was growing up, closeted, conservative and very religious there was no place for sex and spirituality to mix. Even in a church approved marriage, sex was not only allowed, but even encouraged and expected, they could happen along side each other – – – under ordained circumstances but they were always separate, spirit and sex never merged.  

Then I discovered Tantric massage and my life changed, sex could be a spiritual experience. My first experience was through the Body Electric School in New York City, and I’ve since developed it further through The Awaken Studio here in Toronto. Sex and physical pleasure can be a distraction, an amusement, a way to connect with another person, even a way to create new life, but it can also bring us closer to our true selves and to something much greater than ourselves, and THAT, my friends, is always a spiritual experience. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a spiritual experience with a certain French Canadian porn star and my own holy hands.

0

Why Woof the Woof?

I’ve connected with a lot of guys on line. Some have become friends, some have become friends with benefits, some have become very good friends with excellent benefits and some were great fucks. Lately I’ve discovered that I’m not overly interested in connecting. Justin (who I met on line BTW) is keeping me very busy in that department and even though we have a very open Poly relationship I’m finding myself not overly interested in connecting in person…yet still I “WOOF”.

Why Woof if I’m not planning to meat anyone? I’ll admit, that sometimes I wander the “dating” sites in the same way I’d wander the Bath Houses, checking things out, open to possibilities but not desperate for them.

Lately I’ve realized that it’s more than that. Every time I get a woof or a like or a thumbs up or a “how you doing?” it’s a little ego boost, a little pat on the back, a little validation. The nerdy, lonely, closeted teen I used to be stands a little taller and feels a little of the love. That hit draws me in.

Maybe I should be at a place in my life where I don’t need validation from strangers and I’m working toward it. In the mean time, thanks for the woofs, be good to each other and know that if I woof you, it’s because you’re totally Woof worthy.

Oh, BTW

WOOF!

2

Breakfast in Bed for Justin

A few days after my last post about our adventures on the Bruce Trail, Justin and I realized that we hadn’t actually been on the Bruce Trail, we’d been on one of the side trails that goes along the Niagara River.

We decided to fix the problem. * Today’s training schedule had us doing 29 KM. It was a lot, but we’d been building up to it. Don’t tell him, but I’d skipped a KM on some of the training days I wasn’t with him. We decided to do half the distance through the actual trail and then turn around and come back for the full 29 KM.

* I was going to say we decided to rectify the problem, but that word always makes me giggle.

We’d been out late the night before gorging ourselves on fish in chips with my friend Samantha in Whitby and got home VERY late. My kids were with their mom and I asked Justin to sleep over, I love waking up beside him. We were exhausted and over carbbed by the time we got home and went straight to bed and behaved ourselves.

I’m an early riser so I was up early in spite of our late night and got some things done while I let Justin sleep.

When I finally went back into the bedroom to wake him up, we made up for last night. I couldn’t believe how hungry he was after all the Fish and Chips only a few hours earlier. Needless to say, I totally messed up his Intermittent Fasting.

It was a brilliant start to the day, but it went down hill from there. The traffic was a mess getting out to General Brock’s mighty erection (pictured above) a few meters from where the trail starts.

We were exhausted by the time we reached the half way point, what neither of us had counted on was that the Bruce Trail is RUGGED, and no in a plaid shirt. bulgy jeans and scruff, kinda way. The Bruce Trail, at least the first 14.5 KM of it, is ALL HILLS. The other thing we didn’t think through is – the only way back was to go back up and down all those hills. By the time we got back to the car, we were staggering to the car. We were in so much pain and to tired that I couldn’t even make a joke about the General’s Erection. I’m home and in bed (alone) and missing Justin already, and I’m still aching.

I regret the fish and chips last night, I regret getting to bed so late, I regret not thinking through what the terrain would do to our bodies, I regret shorting out some of my walks over the last few weeks, but I do NOT regret that blowjob.

I don’t regret that Blow Job and I certainly don’t regret spending so much time with Justin. It’s not the first time he’s left me aching.

0

Just the tip…of what I’m writing now

It’s been years since I’ve written erotica and I’d forgotten how fun it is. Sifting through my memories from last weekend, deciding what details to include, which ones to leave out. Figuring out to manipulate the words on the screen so you, the reader, gets the full impact of the amazing sex that happened and hopefully get off is challenging but SO MUCH FUN. I have to admit that thinking about people all over the world getting off to my writing, sharing the physical and emotional pleasure of my own experiences is a huge turn on.

I’m hoping to have my next story and Then His Husband Came Home  up by the end of the weekend, but here’s a short excerpt of what I’ve got so far:

***

He holds my gaze for a moment before brushing his lips gently against mine. I can barely feel him and yet…

We’ve been dating for almost a year, his kiss shouldn’t still be taking my breath away, but it does. His lips are intoxicating and his touch leaves me owned. My hand reaches around his neck and I pull him harder to me, my mouth opens for his tongue and he takes full advantage of my invitation. He pushed me further into the sofa, my back arching to meet him as he slides a hand under my T-shirt, pulling it impulsively from my jeans, the cool air against my lower back makes me shiver, he grinds himself against me, pushing my thighs apart with his knees. Today is going to be his day to have his way with me; I’m more than happy to submit. I’ll turn the tables on him later.

His mouth works hungrily down my neck and over my collar bone, my shirt is jerked up, exposing my pecs. He’s impatient. His hunger made me horny as fuck, and horny for a fuck. I pull his head to my chest.

“Suck my tit.” I hadn’t meant to sound so desperate.

***

More to cum, I promise…

0

Gay Glitter & Manly Mylar

A while ago my fourteen-year-old and I passed a bejewelled dude resplendent in mylar and sequins on Church St. We smiled, waved and high fived and I think how great that my kids live in a culture where individuals are accepted and celebrated, (there’s still a long way to go, but we’re moving in the right direction). Then I hear the question…

“Dad, are you ever going to be that gay?”

Before I could answer we ran into friends and there were hugs, laughs and a lot of “When did you get so tall?”. Later wondered what they meant by “that” gay. Was it about degrees…as in “are you ever going to be as gay as them?” because my khaki shorts, T-shirt and sneakers don’t make me less gay than their glittery spandex. Or was it: “are you ever going to be that type of gay?” that’s a different conversation. One that goes a little deeper and brings up issues of labels and our need to stick people in niches. This gay as opposed to that gay? What type of gay are you? Are you gay, or bi, or straight, or poly or trans, or a man, or a woman, or, or, or, or, or? Why do the labels matter and why do we have them? Is it how we organize the world so we can make sense of it, or are we trying to figure out who all the players are so we know how we should act around (and to) them? And what does that say about us? This is going to need more thought and hopefully a good chat or two with my youngest.

I’m thinking about banning labels from the house except on the spice rack…and I’m pretty sure some of them are wrong. I’m also thinking about adding some spandex to my wardrobe. Would that work with the khakis?

OK, rant over. I promise tomorrow’s blog will be sexier. 🙂

2

Heady for Hugh

 

Is it just me, or is Hugh Jackman almost perfect? It’s not fair. He’s got a face that smolders handsome, masculine energy but can break into a boyish grin that melts hearts. He literally has the body of a superhero – I’d woof for Wolverine ANY day – and he tap-dances. Just to highlight how drastically unfair the world is, he’s also a great guy who everyone speaks well of: smart, kind, funny, charming…the list goes on.

If he were gay and into me, then he’d be perfect. He can play gay (check him out in “The Boy From Oz”) now if only he could be gay…and REALLY into me…and living in Toronto…and REALLY, DEEPLY into me.

Sigh.

Until then, I’ll have to rely on my imagination…oh…and my boyfriend…because I have an awesome boyfriend. I wonder if Justin can do an Australian accent.

I’m just kidding Justin, I know you’re gonna read this and I’m wild about you just the way you are and if Hugh shows up on my doorstep, I promise to have him wait until you can get here, something tells me there’s plenty to go around.   

0

Up ↑