Living and lusting amongst the second highest LGBT population in America, determining which of my fellow Los Angelenos on whom I am crushing most can be as hard as an erect cock.

However, my social circles are overlapping at an increasingly velocious rate and clusters of loyalty are beginning to arise. Thus, in order to move forward and explore any mutual infatuation, it appears as though some definitive choices will need to be made. But how am I to choose just one boi from each of these various peripheral friend groups? How will I know I’m making the right choice? How does anyone ever know?

It’s easy, actually. As easy as I surely seem. All I, nay, all everyone in this predickament need do, is close our eyes, rub our stuff, and uhhh – we’ve got an answer:

The first person who comes to mind whilst masturbating.

That is where our truest attention lies.

Filed Under: infatuation, You read it here. by JJ
2 Comments So Far

A proficient gambler, my friend Josh is always looking to raise the stakes. So naturally, at the bar after dodgeball last Wednesday, he suggested spankings as an added incentive – along with mass drunkenness – to winning each round of flip cup.

Yes, spankings. And not just the standard hand-to-ass slap one might normally see exchanged between athletes. Not even close.

While we all enjoy the post game beer binges as much as the sport that brings us together, we dodgeballers are a horde of aggressively competitive and borderline sexually deviant freaks. Thus, each time victory was secured, the losing side would bend over as the winners picked up the collection of metal spatulas that Happy Endings normally allocates for the safe and easy distribution of their discounted pizza and pitcher combo.

Squeals, squeaks, and yelps mingled with the unforgiving SMACK of stainless steel against thinly veiled flesh. Yet, I myself did not contribute to the cacophony. I didn’t even flinch.

“I’m sorry?” I glanced back over my shoulder, grinning devilishly, “Was that supposed to be painful?”

No one was really surprised. It doesn’t take more than one glance to infer that this pert ‘n’ plump ass o’ mine can handle some heat. Although, let me be clear, boiz: S&M; is NOT a fetish to which I subscribe. About an unnamed friend of mine, however, the same cannot be said.

Boy? Girl? I won’t spill. But they were also present. And had anyone been playing close enough attention, the soundless smirk that tugged at their lips as paddle met cheek would have come as a shock.

Just goes to show, that it really is the quiet ones with the riding crops under their beds.

Filed Under: adult recess, Who'reyahcallin'adruuunk? by JJ
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Desperation yields only sex. Sex or permission to use a public restroom normally reserved for paying customers. Occasionally it might prompt an exhibitionistic combination of the two, but never anything of real substance.

No, no. Nature calls, love just shows up when you least expect it.

Filed Under: alone - not lonely, love, perspective, You read it here. by JJ
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When I was on the school basketball team in 8th grade, we were all mortified to wear the mandated short shorts that were part of our decades old uniform. Most of us spent more time tugging awkwardly at the hem than we did paying attention to anything else that was happening on the court. Nowagays, however, I would KILL – or at least maim another queen – for those radically retro polyester hot pants.

Such crimes of fassion might be an exaggeration. But like many a homosexual, I leap at any chance I get to flaunt the gams and glutes I weight train so hard to maintain. Thus, in the anticipation of attending my first big gay pool party next weekend, I treated myself to a new, West Hollywood worthy (read: NC-17) swimsuit.

A far cry of “Heeey girl!” from the board shorts I brought with me when I moved to Los Angeles from the Midwest, two years ago.

Unfortunately, I will once again have to drown my sensuality in that excess of water-repellent fabric when I head home to my family’s lakeside compound later this summer. They all love me and support my lifestyle; but regardless of sexual orientation, most anyone is sure to balk at the omnipresent sight of their kin’s bubble butt cheeks, the bottoms of mine which can NOT be contained by my recently acquired second skin.

Well, I guess it could. But only at the expense of exposing my crack. And that – would just be plain distasteful.

Filed Under: fitness, Oh *hey* adulthood., style and fashion, West Hollywood by JJ
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If you go down on someone in their car and a homeless man is asleep in the abandoned armchair you parked next to, does that count as exhibitionism or a complete disregard for Los Angeles’ displaced population?

Hmm…Errr…

Seeing as he had woken up and wandered off by the time we put our seats back in their upright and locked positions – Imma gonna say both. And, uh, maybe a smidge of indecent exposure, too; because he surely got a glimpse. Although, lemme tell yah:

It is more than decent, what was exposed to me.

Filed Under: dirty talk, fucking and the lick, Los Angeles, perspective, You read it here. by JJ
1 Comment So Far