Just Talking About Sex

Trying on leather 101

I'm going to be real with you blog.

The sex dwindles the deeper you enter your long term relationship.  And you would think that Jimmy and I would talk more about it, but we don't because things have just become so comfortable.  And at times sex feels like a chore or a check list item between laundry and cooking because we're supposed to be doing it at least once a week to be considered "a healthy couple" reaching the 5th.. or was 6th year mark of our relationship. This weekend we got to talking about what we need from each other.  And what do you know, we had amazing louder-than-usual sex.  Wow, communication works instead of just blaming it on our mismatched schedules.

I had forgotten that I have 6 erogenous zones and Jimmy only has 1.  And that I really needed to say what I wanted him to do... in order to have my eyes roll behind my head.  And now I'm craving more and he's out in Atlanta for work getting black dick without me.

When I visited Brooklyn, a group of new friends started to talk about sex positivity among the gaysian community; specifically about kink.  They addressed that gaysians just don't talk about it and that needs to change, but I argued, do they not talk about whips and chains because it really doesn't excite them?  That a community of freaky deaky gaysians is really small?  But maybe, it doesn't exist because we don't talk about it.  A paradox.  I know that some folks think that my house parties are lined with sex, but they are really sexless parties, esp. compared to some other gay spaces I've had the pleasure of being invited to.   Regardless, the 321 space offers other forms of pleasantries that I am grateful for.

I know the gaysians in my circle who are freaks and I try to n'sync them together.  To create a small sub-community within a sub-community within a sub-community.   There's a curiosity here to really elevate sexual pleasure and desire that's not really addressed and maybe it's time to get out of comfort and really experiment with things other than just generically "boys."

Without a doubt I feel like the gaysians in New York and San Francisco are hooking up way more than Angelenos.  Why?  Because your erection disappears when your $15 uber gets lost.  Or you don't know where to park.  Or you're not that drunk because you have to drive.  Car culture has really ruined hooking up.  And at times I feel like my friends are really sex-less because of this or because they're not talking about it.    But let's change all of that.

More sex.  More talk about sex.  And... how many erogenous zones do you feel have been neglected?

**edit**
Just saw some Folsom pictures from the Gaysians in SF.  High heels, asses out.  Love love love.

It was Planned; A Late Night Sexual Proposition

There was a work event last Friday in Malibu.  I planned for lots of drinking, no driving.  How does one plan for this?  I put a phone charger and contact lens container in my pocket and gave the heads up to some people on the west side that I might need a place to crash.  I wore boxers instead of boxer-briefs so that if I drunkenly stripped off my clothes I wouldn't be too embarrassed.  But none of that happened even if I somewhat planned for it.

The evening ended and I actually was pretty okay to drive even after bottles of wine, beer and bourbon.  Well, maybe not on a freeway for 18 miles. Regardless, I purposely left my car at home and took the train to work that day.   It was 12:30 in the morning and I texted Jimmy who offered me a ride.  I didn't want him to go across town just grab me, so I looked up bus routes.  I found the 4 which was 2 blocks away from where I was and would drop me off near Echo Park Lake.  "It's okay, I want to test out taking the bus baby."  I responded.  Jimmy didn't argue - he knew I would push back because I wanted to have an adventure any way.  And he was absorbed in his fashion shows on youtube.

I wanted to see who rode the bus late into the night and how "doable" this was.  An experiment by a white collar worker pretending to be a part of a community that has less of a choice in life.  It's like ART.  Anyway, I was alone on the street and the bus arrived after waiting for 10 minutes.  I had credit left over from a day pass that I wanted to use which was also a part of my justification to do this. Surprisingly, there were a lot of people.  Folks from parties, going home after a long work day, just finishing an errand.  Lots of different types of people were taking the 4 line at this hour.

1 hour and 8 minutes to bus across town

The bus drove down Santa Monica Blvd.  Through the rich and poor neighborhoods and through West Hollywood.  I fell a sleep and woke up a little groggy in a dodgy part of the iconic street when suddenly an middle aged man sat in the empty seat next to me.

He put out his hand and said, "hello."  He was balding, overweight and ghostly paul.  I stared at his hand and paused for the longest time as if I was about to make a large life decision and needed more time to process what was happening.  I shook his hand awkwardly. "Hiiii..."  I dragged out my response in suspicious.  His hand was dry and puffy.  Was this guy going to shank me?  I was carrying my Nikon J1 that Jimmy bought for me.  Is that what he wanted?

"Do you want to come with me on the next stop?"  His English was mildly broken and I realized what was going on.  I was being propositioned for sex.  He must have assumed that I was a WeHo party boy, drugged up from clubbing and drunk-horny-desperate as if I was recently rejected by the person I was hitting on.  The switch in my mind flipped and I got scared.

Like a child my response was timidly direct. "No.  I'm going home."  And I looked away as if I had been shamed.  

"Hey! I'm just asking!" He raised both hands and got up from the bench.  The bus doors open and he stepped out waving thank you to the bus driver.  His escape route was so planned.  The moment that was awkward was short and he was on his way to where ever.  I was only 2 miles away from my stop.

Jimmy picked me up while I was walking in the direction of my house along the lake.  He was just about ready to go for his 2AM gym run.  It was perfectly planned.

American Whore Story

I stepped into a beautiful Silverlake townhouse nested in the hills.  Parking was on a narrow slanted street curving upward - we were not longer in the hood. We were appropriately dressed to match the party theme: American Whore Story... well partially.

Fully dressed priest, doctor, psychiatric people.

When we stepped in, the decor knocked all of my themed parties out of the water.  There was black plastic pinned along the wall and tiny torch lights to make it look like a dungeon.  The host told me it took 2 weeks to prepare and his finger tips bled a little putting everything up.  I noticed 4 cooked turkeys, meatballs, pulled pork, and crackers set on various tables.  He told me about other Christmas parties - he's hosted 12 since living there.  A few years back was Brokeback Mountain in which he invested in haystacks transported from farms.  Another year was "Martha Stewart in Jail" - prison and crafts themed.  His creativity made me envious.

We were entering the territory of another subgroup of gay with actual disposable income.

Spectacular View

The crowd?  Older.  Daddies.  These were real Gay Daddies which included even more sub sub groups - leather daddies and bears.  Our twenty-something gaysian group was obviously out of place... and had a lot less facial hair and body mass.  As we huddled together I realized that this was different, the people around us were disinterested in us.  I was used to being poked and gawked at by older men in the space.  But not here.  This was a daddies for daddies party and we were lost children that happened to stumble in disrupting their fun like acne.  We wandered around the amazingly embellished house and I noticed a curtain covering an upward stairway.

"What's that?"  I inquired.
"It's the playroom."  The stranger my dad's age explained flatly.  I continued up and discovered the following:  Black fabric draped from the ceiling.  It was dark, aside from small mood-setting lights.  I followed the brighter glowing light and found VHS porn playing on an old TV sitting in front an even older couch.  Oh shit.. "Playroom..."

I turned another corner around the draped fabric, I was in a flowy labyrinth alone. And there it was, a sling hanging and rocking waiting to be occupied. It was a grown up swing - with a different purpose.  I would have never guessed this was here.  I snuck out and told my friends fellow giggling hairless children what I discovered.

We were all intrigued.  It was another world.  Some of us ventured back into the playroom to witness party guests make use of the props that the host carefully assembled.  And I wondered, if we weren't among friends would the idea of "joining in" be more of possibility. I stayed away. The thought quickly vanished as we found a safe corner in the patio with an amazing view.  As we talked, three party guests found themselves in the gazebo behind us... and then they found their mouths around each others'  gazebos.  I spoke louder to drown out my awkwardness.  They did not speak a word to us.

We slipped out before midnight having consumed all chips and dip and taking advantage of the personal bar.  I took home a suvenior - the host was handing out costume-y rosaries.

I thought that this sort of exhibition only existed at the Folsom Street Fair in the Castro or random bathhouses scattered around cities.  Never would I have thought that I would attend an actual party with a "playroom" tucked away.

I am thankful to have experienced for a brief moment the space of another subgroup of gay; it was like eating a new cuisine from a different country.

I was inspired by the party themes and elaborate decorations.

And I found an appreciation for a newly discovered extremity of "casual sex."

Gay Asian Erotica

In Portland is Powell's bookstore: the worlds largest independent used/new bookstore.I found myself in the gay section the entire time looking for good Asian American Gay literature which I realized that day is very niche. Gay- Literature - Asian - American... what a key word search. I didn't find much. But really, everything I needed is online through blogs, it's just a matter of finding them.

Per the recommendation of ManFrancisco, I've been reading Wesley's Writings. I was initially turned off by the amount of words (considering how illiterate I am), but then captivated as each dating/sexual encounter was vividly painted. What makes gay Asian blog writing better is the expectation that these sex stories are real vignettes of someone's life. And why gay AND Asian? Because... I'd like to think that I'm connected to them.

Wesley captures my straight guy fetish precisely with this entry here. But as Wesley describes, "after a few too many conquests in the straight world I realized it wasn’t worth my time," I on the other hand still find it a favorite pastime. I enjoy my play time with a "straight" boy despite the emotional exhaustion.

At times I wish my friends didn't read this blog, its existence is evident. I find myself writing more inhibited. Sadface.

I'm flying home tonight. I have a handful of exciting wholesome fun to document.

Switches

One of my favorite things to do is walking around with a needle deflating egos. Cockiness needs to go. 

letopho: i enjoy our purely sexual relationship
casual f-buddy: how can you not?  I mean, really, it's me
letopho: yup, sexuality is all that's of interest
casual f-buddy: well, i hope that at least my mind is interesting... ><
letopho: *silence.*

The casual f-buddy doesn't come around too often, but I'm beginning to appreciate how bluntly sexual our relationship is even if it didn't initially start that way.  On AIM he says shit like, "when are you coming over."  or "I'm in town." And that's it.  We don't hang out other than to sleep with each other, which I find quite efficient.

It's so one dimensional, it's so easy.  It's based purely on physical pleasure.

F-Buddy/Hookup

Brain - Off

Heart - Off
Body - Turned on to Max

===

Hmm.. I think I've stumbled upon something. How does connect/disconnect among "the logical mind, the passionate heart" and the animalistic body relate to different types or relationships and transitioning relationships?

Committed "Perfect" Relationship
Brain - On (Made for each other)

Heart - On (They're the one)

Body - On (Wow.. MARRY THIS FUCKER!)

Crush/Infatuation
Brain - Off (You're an idiot.  You're going to regret this. Dont do it... too bad you're not listening)
Heart - On (It's gonna hurt...)
Body - On

Love Above Sex, Comfortable, Complacent (Positive)
Brain - On
Heart - On (Love that surpasses physical desires)
Body - Off

Sexless Love, Comfortable, Complacent (Negative)
Brain - On
Heart - On
Body - Off (sex in need of spice... in need of a third.....a costume...SOMETHING! QUICK!)

Robotic ... "seeing where things go," the early dating stage
Brain - On (Hmmm, they're interesting.. this can go somewhere)
Heart - Off (I think I like them, sort of.. maybe..sometimes?)
Body - On (Heh, cute smile.. good body, sure why not?)

Gold Digger/For Another Reason Besides Love
Brain - On (This is for my future, this will please my parents, I'm getting too old, this is the smart thing to do)
Heart - Off (If they died, I would be happier)
Body - Off (but you can fake it)

Do you agree?  I think it's interesting when switches turn on and off within relationships.  Makes sense, once the heart flicks on, folks get serious or in trouble or when the body switch flicks off- folks become comfortable or bored... and when the brain flicks off from dating, it becomes just a potential hook up...etc etc  Another question is, how does a switch get flicked? and what would it mean if we had complete control?!?  *rubs hands together demonically*

As for my f-buddy the switches are thankfully constant as if someone duct taped them down... so no, I don't find your mind interesting.  See you Thursday night?