10 January 2016

In PreParation for the New Year

Happy New Year!

I feel like I should be saying that a few times since my last “real” post was about a year and a half ago. I think it’s time, though, to talk about something that happened about a year ago. It’s an anniversary of sorts. December 4th, marks the day that I went on PreP.

So, here’s the thing. Being on Prep isn’t an excuse for me to ride raw cocks every chance I get and have everyone bust up all up in here. I grew up in the 1980s when the fear of contracting the virus formerly known as GRID was inescapable. I knew I was gay from a very young age, first grade, in fact.

I remember when all the boys were hanging out with each other and playing in the playground during lunchtime and recess and all I wanted to do was jump rope and play with jacks and balls. Not much has changed.

I remember watching commercials featuring the song “Boom, Boom, Boom” where the lyric “let’s go back to my room, so we can do it all night so I can make you feel right” played eerily in the background while a junky in an abandoned apartment attempted to cover the camera that was zooming in on them and the digital call to action was something about AIDS. Yikes!

I remember watching a movie “And the Band Played On” that featured an all-star cast trying to figure out this “AIDS thing.”

 I remember sneaking into my parents’ room to watch Madonna’s “Girlie Show Tour” and her singing "In This Life" preceded by a soliloquy about having lost friends to AIDS.

And every time I decided to have a guy stick his manhood inside my ass, I remembered all those moments. And when that door closed behind them or behind me, I regretted the hour or so of ultimate sexual release. Did I get it?

The first guy that took my flower was named Eli. He lived in downtown Jersey City and I was home for Thanksgiving break from college. When I found him off of an AOL chat room, I didn’t have any pictures to trade with him - for real. I drove to meet him anyway.

Eli was a 5’10, hairy and muscular Middle Eastern guy with probably a thick 8” tool. He was also a mail man. I remember that detail vividly because I could remember the incredible calves he had from all that walking. When we undressed each other, there was a distinct musk on him that drove me wild and made me realize that I definitely was gay. I told him he was going to be my first. He kind of laughed but then got serious and very focused. He kissed me passionately. He caressed me slowly. He was patient with me while I took him in my mouth. But he was very gentle when attempting to fuck my ass. At least for the first five minutes. Then he forced himself inside of me and rode my ass until my yells became welcomed moans.

Needless to say, the first time was sensory overload and I came within the first 20 minutes without even touching myself. I was embarrassed, but Eli assured me there was nothing to be embarrassed about. We showered together and I ended up seeing him a few more times over the next two years until he disappeared. He wanted to go into the FBI. I guess he did.

The next morning,  after that first time, I went to take a shit. I was sore. And as gentle as I was being with churning out that turd, the once pleasurable stretching of my sphincter felt like shards of glass ripping through my asshole. Thankfully, the pain only lasted a few minutes then I go to wipe. Fuck! There was blood all over the toilet paper and in the bowl. I have it: I have AIDS.

Now, if you remember, in undergrad, you would maybe have the Wednesday off until you had to go back on Monday. So I sat in sadness, essentially writing out my will in my head to my family and friends who didn’t know I was gay yet. “Dear family and friends. I am gay and I got what I deserved. Nice knowing all of you.”

That weekend was the longest weekend of my life at that point. And now it got even longer. Everywhere I turned, there was a reminder of my sodomy: commercials: “are you sick and tired of being sick and tired;” conversations: “Mary, are you ‘positive’ you emailed her back?” and course syllabi: “remember that the material you on which you will be tested will only be from September to just before Thanksgiving break.” Jesus Christ. I drove back to Philly in silence and when I returned to campus, I confided in one of my friends at the university Monday morning. He was one of advisors of the fraternity I pledged. (“It’s a fraternity, not a frat. Do you call your country a cunt?”)

I told him the whole story in tears. He told me two things: 1. You wore a condom, you don’t have AIDS. 2. Get tested. It will make you feel better. And I did. I ended up driving two hours, all the way back to Jersey City - why not in Philadelphia, God only knows what I was thinking - and got tested at a free clinic. I had a drug addict to my left and a very thin man saying out loud “oh dear, I hope I don’t have it, I hope i don’t have it.” Ugh is this my life now?

Fast forward 16 years later…

I anxiously waited in the doctor’s room staring at the container of cotton balls and tongue depressors and thought about what and how I was going to ask for the drug. “Hey. As you know I’m a big whore.” No. “Hey. I need to the drug.” No. “Hey. I need reassurance.” And just like that, I got it. Truvada, that is.

Point of the conversation: You know yourself, so do it.

28 June 2015


After a long hiatus of not posting, I think it's about time I did.

By now, whether it be a quiet night out with your gay besties or in an altered state of ecstasy that has you currently tied-up; gagged in a sling; and force fed another whiff of a freshly-opened bottle of poppers, you hopefully have been immersed in the festivities of your own Gay Pride, but you have also been immersed in the momentous occasion of the Supreme Court of the United States' ruling in favor of Gay Marriage, now just marriage.

The excitement still is strong, especially living in the NYC area. But as in the past decade, social media has proven to be the medium where people feel comfortable expressing their agreement or disagreement with the state of affairs here in the US and in other countries. From the Arab Spring to the cries for help and aid during Hurricane Sandy of 2012, the decision and, in some cases, hatred for the gay community is not immune to the voice of the technologically savvy.

On my personal Facebook page, I posted a few hours after the ruling:

I've been fortunate enough to be surrounded by awesome friends and people on facebook. I do feel bad for those who feel they have to "unfriend" because of the ignorance of their contacts and I get the frustration. However, I'm not going to do that. All of you know I'm a teacher and you also know I'm gay. I'd rather be able to school you than dismiss you. If you're against the ruling on GAY marriage - which is now just MARRIAGE - because you believe government has no business in social issues, then that's cool. But if it's an attempt to veil your hatred for homosexuals and the community I belong to, please do yourself a favor and reevaluate the reason why you are "friends" with me. Your call.

I waited. And I waited for backlash. But nothing. Not because I wanted a fight, but secretly because I was afraid of the friends I may lose in sharing or oversharing which I am notorious for doing. But my echo-chamber had possibly been prepping over the years as there was nothing but love and rainbow-altered profile photos. #lovewins

But as quickly as the warm-and-fuzzies ended to let cynicism over the ruling set in, to my dismay, so were the same friends who posted support as they posted their own sad commentary of needing to click "unfriend" for those less supportive.

There is much to go still. Sure the right is recognized, but by whom?

Point of the conversation: It will never be over, but #lovewins.


02 October 2014

Michael FUCKING Hoffman

Straight guys are the best. Even better when they are bodybuilders, love to show off, and love to jerk off ... and eat their own cum.

Michael Hoffman a couple years ago made videos like the ones posted below and made about $10,000 off of them. One of them, however, showed him not only polishing off his knob, but also partaking in his own cream filling. Have a gander for yourself.

His other more "R" rated video consisted of him just edging and yanking on his noodle. (YAWN.)


The GailyGrind was the first to snag and hyperlink the shit out of this story, so I'm going to leave it to the professionals. Check out their coverage here. What I hate the most about straight guys is when you think they are comfortable in their own skin and then they say something like:

“Hi guys, it’s Michael Hoffman. Most of you know me by now. I just want to say I know there are videos going around of me. I wanted to say a few things. I’m not gay. Those videos I can understand making me look that way – and I respect gay people completely – but I’m not gay, I’m straight.”

Ugh, who the fuck cares? I didn't know you till now. You ain't Tom Cruise, boo boo. No need for the "I'm not gay" video proclamation. The only way you could've made it palatable for me is if you pulled the camera back when you finished talking and punctuating the lame video by revealing a guy giving you a rim job and another catching your load in his mouth, and spitting it into yours. Okaaayyyyy?!

More of Mikey:

Point of the conversation: Let it lie.

- DeeCue

20 August 2014

(I'd Fuck It) Challenge

I'm probably way late on this post.

However, I think the time I've given to not being on top of blogging on the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge has afforded the world the beauty that is the human male body.

For those who are still not with the program: through social media avenues, people pour a bucket of ice-filled water on themselves in the name of ALS or Lou Gherig's disease then pass on the deed through challenging friends to do the same or donate $100 to the cause - in some cases, such as mine, some completed the challenge and donated as well.

The philanthropic-fad sweeping the nation has brought some controversy - "Why do that at all? Just donate!"or "Why are you wasting clean water to get motivated to avoid donating to charity?" - But one thing is for certain, just like the Britney Spears head shaving of 2007 or the infamous Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction of 2004, it has garnered enough of the philanthropic at heart to not pass up the chance to not only brandish their half naked bodies on the worldwide interwebs, but also donate to a great cause.

Feast your eyes . . . . HERE.

Or here. . .

Point of the conversation: Just do it.

- Dee Cue

03 July 2014

Guy Loves Guy Loves Girl . . . and Guy . . . s

Why do I do it?

I always fall for the guy who likes woman wants to dabble with guys and ends up leaving me in the dust. I am totally comfortable with owning up to guys not liking me and moving on; have you read my blog lately? But come on. Seriously?

My love affair with Ian lasted all of three weeks.

I met Ian on Craigslist looking to hook-up late one night. We actually missed each other the first time because I fell asleep and when I posted again the night after because I was brimming with cum, he was quick to respond again.

We finally meet up after an endless exchange of emails - checking if I was discreet (or discrete?), clean, negative, gay, bi, straight, curious, "for real." He of course, was straight and curious. Also, he refused to send a face picture which is usually a deal-breaker, but he was confident in his "VGL" status and even encouraged me to turn him away if I wasn't to standards. I almost had my fill of the 20 Questions game until he asked for my address. JACK POT.

He arrives and was definitely to my standards - breathing with a dick.

He brought over a bottle of vodka and some mixers to calm our nerves and because he "rarely does this." Ian was very intelligent with a great job. Allegedly, newly out of a relationship - with a girl - and was open to newer things sexually. So we finished a few rounds of vodka sodas and ended up making out and fucking.

We hung out again, but after that, I didn;t hear from him for a week. To which he sent a long text about feeling bad. "Why?" "So much going on in my life and my girlfriend is trying to talk to me again." Sigh. I told him to do what he had to do and hopefully we could hang again in the future. The future was three hours later. That night though, after playing in-and-out, he suggested looking for a third.

My apartment became a revolving door of third parties, the last of whom stayed the night. The three of us. In my bed. Oy vey!

Another full week passes and when I contact him, he tells me he is seeing someone and HE wants to be exclusive. Ian wants to be open to it so he doesn't think it would be a good idea for use to meet up just yet. WHAT?! I told him I was happy for him, but was regretful I didn't ask about a homosexual exclusivity pact because I would have been totally open to the idea of a relationship with him - I just thought he wasn't even about that life because of his insistence on a third and fourth and fifth and sixth. Bah.

Point of the conversation: Beware the str8 man.

- DeeCue

30 June 2014


Another Pride has come and gone in NYC.

Last night, as the music was dying down on the pier...as the drag queens were de-lashing...as the out-of-towners were getting on their flights to the next pride-party in X-City, I stumbled upon my young-not-yet-20-friend's Facebook status that read:

I'm probably gonna get so much shit for saying this but I think pride is the most ridiculous thing ever. If gay people think they need to celebrate pride to feel good about themselves, then straight people should have pride to, because whether your gay or straight we should all have pride in ourselves for who we are, we don't need a few days every year to celebrate it we should be celebrating our pride everyday. End of story

To which I replied:

Oh [friend], so much to learn. Pride is all about being able to be who you are. The Stonewall Riots (look it up) is what it was all about. [Th]ere was a time when you were arrested for being open. Pride is a celebration of that end.

And followed up with:

Straight people are lucky they don't have a parade. They don't have to prove anything or celebrate the end of hatred.

There were a lot of comments in favor of what he said, agreement with my soap-box, and some pax-freaks who want everyone to be happy. This is one discussion I won't idly stand-by on. As I as proudly wrote years ago in Sticks and Stonewall, there were many who fought for the basic human right of being who you are and want to be. For someone, albeit a young friend of mine, to be as naive to say "I don't get it" is seriously a heinous display of ignorance. Sure, have your opinion, but to not understand and know the struggle the gays before you endured as you sit there in judgement of those who do appreciate in their own way by parading around in leather and feather is even more "disgusting."

Sashay away, gurl.

Point of the conversation: We're here. We're queer. Get used to it.

- DeeCue