Erotic Play

Oh no he di ent!!!

Yes, I did. A lot. And it was fun.

I’ve just returned from an extended trip to Palm Springs for some rest and recharging of the inner fires. Ah, the sun, good food, and men everywhere you could turn your head. It’s almost surreal to go about your day and run into (sometimes literally) gay men shopping and eating – upwards of 45% of the population I hear. The trip culminated with a party on Sunday at my buddies place. We fluffed all morning to create an erotic play space complete with rim chair, sling, massage table in its own grotto, a meticulously crafted Glory Hole (my buddy is an engineer, go figure), an electric St. Andrews Cross and porn room.

I sat back watching how men, over the course of the next 6 or so hours, moved in and out of erotic play, who needed more emotional safety, how men dealt with rejection, and those that needed lubrication (and I’m not talking about Elbow Grease here) to get into playing.
One particularly handsome Venezuelan man went so far as to tell me my manner was too direct for him, perhaps too scary. I had a chuckle at that one. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to be anything other than direct, especially around sexuality.

All in all I feel the day was a celebration of our gay male eroticism, a day to come together (over and over…..) in all of the ways men move in and out of contact. I could see something sexy about each and every man – with some it was their mouth, or butt, or the way they crinkled their eyes when they smiled, or even their Southern Californian accent.

I think Martha would have approved