Something important

Yesterday, a reader gently chided me for ending the post about the latest encounter with my buddy Ted on a teasing, elliptical note. I will be returning to that post with more details, but I got sidelined by something else I was working on.

As I mentioned a few days ago, I've decided to try putting out some pro-j/o agitprop by submitting an editorial to DC's gay paper. I completed that yesterday and sent it off by email; we'll see what kind of response it gets from the Blade editors. In the meantime, you guys can read it for yourselves right here.

I'd also like to propose that all of you who've lamented the difficulty of finding dudes into mutual j/o and frot consider writing letters of your own to the local gay rag. As you know, gay porn rather overwhelmingly sends the message that, for men who like men, anal sex is ''home plate,'' the hottest thing around, the culmination of intimacy, and -- the worst message of all -- that learning to love fucking or getting fucked is a way to prove that you've fully embraced your identity as a gay man. I think it's important to spread the word that not all of us buy into this -- that some of us greatly prefer activities like mutual penis rubbing as a way to share intimacy and pleasure with another male.

So, the next time your local gay paper prints yet another article about the barebacking trend, with the usual bleating from a ''safe-sex educator'' who urges that the problem is best solved by throwing government-funded condoms at it, consider this as a good opening to write your own letter to the editor. It doesn't have to be eloquent; just say "You know, I personally get huge satisfaction from an activity that is inherently close to zero-risk for STD transmission, and I urge other guys to give it an open-minded try.'' Not out? Ask the paper to withhold your name. And if you are out, keep in mind that you won't only be doing a valuable educational service to the community, but that getting a letter published might just be a way to help you make contact with potential masturbation buddies in your area -- how win-win is that?

In praise of married men

My buddy Ted dropped by yesterday -- it'd been weeks since I'd had any M2M company. We'd been chatting on Yahoo for a while before he came over to my place, and the last message he sent was:

Meet me at the door totally naked.

I did, and the contrast of skin and clothes felt really nice as we stood in the hallway hungrily kissing and humping our crotches together, just as soon as the front door had closed...

Mood music

Oh, I almost forgot! A couple weeks ago, an old j/o buddy from my IRC days sent me an .MP3 that he'd created. It consists of a few phrases repeated over and over until they become a hypnotic mantra:

Penis... penis... fully erect PENIS. Penis... penis... erect male PENIS

And so forth, with minor variations, for about a minute and a half. It's set to a slow hip-hop beat that he lifted from a porn video, and the effect it had on me when I played it in a continuous loop... the best description I can think of is ''audio Viagra.'' Several times I've reduced myself to a gibbering, half-sobbing idiot just by chanting along as I masturbate -- the mantra automatically focuses my mind completely on my stiff hairy masculine dong, and the resulting orgasms have been explosive... hit myself in the chin with a spurt of semen while sitting up, which hasn't been a common occurrence since my late teens. So, if you're into the ''penis talk'' thing (those who aren't will just be mystified, I'm afraid), do yourself a favor and download it -- you can find it by going to the Files section of the Brooklyn Jackolytes Yahoo group. Oh, and if you enjoy it, be sure to thank bonedbud6 for his efforts.

Tap... tap... Is this thing on?

Hey, masturbators -- Brooklyn Jack is back on the air.

If you're wondering why I was silent for so long, there are a few inter-related reasons.

First and foremost, I was deeply in the grip of writer's block. Those who've never seriously undertaken writing either as a profession or a hobby may assume that the ''blockage'' is just another name for a lack of inspiration, or possibly a euphemism for laziness. To some degree, writer's block may be a bit of both, but if you don't know what it's like to have words flow effortlessly from your fingers, to have your brain ready to pop from all the inspiration swirling around inside, it'll be difficult for you to appreciate just how frustrating and demoralizing this ''blockage'' can be for a writer.

In my case, the blockage was aggravated by the depressing circumstances of being unemployed and living with my parents again -- hardly the ideal arrangement for a bright young pornographer. It's very difficult to focus on writing about fun stuff, like male/male sexual play, when in the back of your mind is the nagging thought, ''I could be mailing out resumes or doing the MS-Word test at a temp agency in the time it will take me to compose this post.'' Astute readers may object that it's perfectly possible to do both the job-hunt stuff and the j/o-blogging in the same day, and they'd be correct -- but you know, the human mind is a funny beast.

So, what was the mental Drân-O that finally unclogged the writer's block? Well, first, I must light a votive candle and thank the miraculous healing powers of hot male porn. Last Thursday, I went into D.C. to register with another temp agency and to attend a networking luncheon. While I was in the city, I decided to stop by Lambda Rising, which is not only the metro area's best source for gay/lesbian literature and other paraphernalia (e.g., shit with rainbows on it; Bear Pride™ lighters), but also a good place to buy a wide range of periodicals featuring naked men. I skipped the titles like Honcho and Mandate, after a cursory inspection revealed (a) lots of shaved chests and (b) too much badly-written textporn. Instead, I ended up purchasing a "Steve Kelso Calendar Classics" photo-only compilation, and a German import called ''Alcazar,'' which offered amateur shots of die heißen türkischen und arabischen Männer showing off their furry bods and spurting cumloads for the camera. (I believe I've previously mentioned the salubrious effect of male chest hair on my libido.)

The much-needed dose of Vitamin P, and the generous loads of sperm that the fresh, high-quality porn coaxed out of my throbbing dick on Thursday evening and subsequent days and nights, gave me part of the motivation I needed to start writing again. The other big kickstart was a letter that recently appeared in the Washington Blade, D.C.'s gay paper -- it was from Bill Weintraub, creator of the Heroic Homosex site. Bill's online writings were part of the inspiration for the Brooklyn Jack site, and he has often challenged gay men who share his sexual tastes (which I do) to be more vocal and public about the fact that they enjoy mutual masturbation and related stuff like cock-to-cock and frot, but they don't enjoy anal sex.

I've been sexually active for about 12 years now, and out of the closet for ten, and I'm really tired of ''thinking of England'' during anal sex (neither bottoming nor topping has ever been a real turn-on for me) just to please my partner, and I'm tired of explaining that, yes, I've tried practicing with a dildo, and I'm tired of praying that guys I date won't express an interest in anal, thus forcing me to fake enthusiasm for it if I want to keep seeing him. Finally, I'm tired of the effort it takes to find men who are eagerly looking for mutual j/o and frot (with maybe some oral as a side dish, or maybe not), not merely because those activities are safe, but because, like me, they find it really super duper hot to watch another man masturbate, or to stroke his throbbing penis for him, or to put the two erect shafts together. So, I figured that the solution would be to write an editorial to the Blade saying what I've said above -- it'll help spread the masturbation message to a wider audience than I've been able to reach with this blog. It may attract some new readers to the site. It'll get me a byline, which is not a bad thing for a freelance writer. And if I'm lucky, it may even get me a date or two -- I figure there's gotta be other men in the area who feel the same way I do.

So, guys (and any lurking chicks apart from Farfalla), I'm glad to be back. Get your dicks out and let's have some fun strokin' the manmeat...