Saturday, July 26, 2008

Disney, Dads, & Dudes

One of my favorite Disney pastimes, aside from The Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean, is to scope out the sexy Dads and their little Dudes. Mind you, I’m not talking about the pint-size munchkins. I’m talking about the jaded teens who seem to all of a sudden learn how to smile again with Disney magic charm, the college frat boys.

I’ve always found Disney to be filled with sexy manboys. This trip, however, seemed particularly dickillating (instead of titillating). Dads holding hands with their boys or with their arms around them. While waiting for my partner to come out of one of the shops, I saw a sexy Mexican Dad sitting on a bench with his teenage son’s head laying in his lap; obviously tuckered out from all the fun they were having.

Dudes; alone, with their friends or with their brothers.

And like the geeky, nerdy manboys at Comic Book Conventions and Toy Shows, they appear to be totally unaware of how sexy they are. Even if they are, they don’t seem to care; they’re just being themselves. Being real.

So what exactly is it that turns me on about them so much? What is it about male sexuality that arouses me? And why is it that, as a man, when I’m aroused by a manboy who has that . . . whatever it is quality . . . I feel I must possess him. No matter how briefly. And stranger still, what is it about watching a Dad with his son that turns me on so? Is it that perhaps there’s still a little boy somewhere inside me that craves the touch and intimacy of an older man? A Dad to nurture me and guide me? Perhaps it's that I want a boy of my own? Or am I simply sexualizing an emotional bond that I’ve never had and will probably never have?

I often wonder because I can look at the same son and his mom, or the little boy by himself, and feel nothing.

I’ve tried to analyze it and I either can’t seem to put my finger on it or don’t want to face the fact that perhaps, in some sort of way, maybe I’m envious of something I never had, therefore don’t understand. Or maybe I’m just more perverse and twisted than I care to admit. If any of you have any ideas or comments on manboys, sexuality, masculinity and why it arouses us, or even you, personally, please post. I’d love to hear your thoughts.


Disney was overrun by hordes of Brazilian girls. And where there are Brazilian girls, there are Brazilian boys.

Now close your eyes for a moment and imagine them. The way they seem to be unaware of their sensuality. The way they touch each other so playfully; without thought or concern to how it may look to American eyes. The way they laugh and joke with each other; jostling and draping their arms about one other, holding hands and actually LOOKING into each other’s eyes. Their beautifully smooth, dark skin, thick juicy lips and smoldering eyes.

These are just some of the snippets of cock teasing moments we encountered. Lots of unintentional arousal from a natural display of blossoming, awkward masculinity. I think you get the picture.

Shit, I think I just felt a drop of pre-cum ooze out of me.

One of highlights of the cock teasing moments we had was when we were at the Toy Story Mania ride at Hollywood Studios. This young, sexy Daddy, probably early 30s; redneck dark blonde, buzzed head and baseball cap, hairy forearms, tank top, jeans, black sneakers, tattooed. He bent over and you could see the top of his slightly hairy crack. Just the thought of him going commando was enough to boil blood. I didn’t really know what to do but stare. Naturally I took a picture of the background decor of the inside of the ride. Yeah. That's it. The decor. Of the ride.

Anyway, the picture will give you an idea of what "It" looked like.


When he bent over a second time, more crack was exposed. My tongue was wagging and my mouth was watering. I tried to take a picture but he moved too quickly and I was too slow on the uptake. The result was a very blurred photo. However, in my attempt to pretend to take yet one more picture of the background decor of the ride itself, he appears in the pic below.


Another thing that was just as dickillating as the Disney Dad at Toy Story Mania was the amount of manboys scratching at their nuts, pulling on their cocks or trying to separate their sweaty balls from their thighs or scrotum. Like the one dark blond surfer-type Euro boy with curly hair, tan skin, power blue shorts and white tee-shirt. He kept tugging at himself and, eventually, when that wasn’t enough, reached inside his shorts, scratched or pulled or did whatever, then pulled his hand out and nonchalantly sniffed his fingers just seconds before running them through his hair. Right in front of his Mum and Dad. And one Dad, (this one at Pleasure Island the night before) while walking in front of his wife with a brood of what seemed like a dozen kids, tugged on himself, separated, then proceeded to pull the waistband of his shorts away from his belly. In broad daylight and without a care to who might have been watching . . . buried his hand deep into his crotch and rearranged what needed to be rearranged.

WOOF!

As exciting as watching these males can be, however, the sad thing is that after a while you either want to either grab one, shove him down on the ground and do him right then and there, or you simply move on. You can’t even use them as inspirational material for a hot jerk-off session later because there are just too many of them to commit to memory.

Too many of them and, of course, I didn’t have the balls to take pictures of them or film them outright. Even though practically everyone else here has a camera or camcorder and is filming everything in sight or snapping away, I still want to be care. I don’t suspect there would be any trouble but since they don’t know I’m filming them . . . you get the idea.

That having been said, I DID manage to film one that was just too good to pass up. He was on the bus, on the way back to the hotel. Check out the clip below. It's a bit jumpy but you’ll understand why I had to take it.



He did that the entire trip from Hollywood Studios back to the All Star.

Heavy sigh.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Finally . . . Comfortable In My Own Skin

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Sunday, July 13, 2008

A Lesson Learned The Hard Way

For the past month or so, since coming back from NYC, I've been filming like mad. It's almost as if I've been trying to make up for lost time. Nah, scratch that. It wasn't lost time as much as it was suspended time.

Five guys in the can. Count 'em. Five. With me so far? Good.

In between filming sessions, full-time work, a live-in partner of almost 13 years, 3 dogs, 2 cats, my Mom's breast cancer issues which are still continuing, trying to keep a clean house and maintaining my sanity by having some down time and the occasional glass of wine, I've been editing.

Because of all the things of I've been doing, and because I'm trying to strike some kind of balance, the editing process of the first, almost complete DVD, "Stray Dawgz," has been taking longer than I would like. My computer, unfortunately, cannot manage the editing as it is an older, slower computer with an almost ancient microprocessor, despite the fact that the computer itself is probably only about 5 years old. Therefore, I've been using my partner's computer which, compared to mine, works at warp speed.

Each night that I get something done, no matter how little, I keep saying to myself, "This is great! I'll back it up tomorrow." Because after all, as Scarlett O'Hara said, "Tomorrow is another day."

It most certainly is. And you know what else tomorrow is? Too fucking late to back-up because, dig this, FILES BECOME CORRUPT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So can I hear a loud, collective, "FUCK ME! GODDAMNIT! I'M FUCKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Weeks of work wasted because when I tried to back it all up today, either the file is too huge, there are damaged sectors on my external hard drive, or the iMovie file got corrupt. I don't which it is, but either way it would appear that I have to start from scratch because when I choked the omputer, I had to remove the external hard drive the old-fashioned; pulling the plug, which resulted in loss of data.

So, just as David from Home Town Guys once said to me, "NEVER STOP RECORDING!" I now say to myself and anyone else out there reading this blog, "NEVER FORGET TO BACK UP!!!!!"

I mean, seriously? I think it would have been far less painful to strap me up in a sling, grease me up with sand-filled lube, get a hold of one of those monster size, black rubber dildos, then use a sledge hammer to drive the fucker up my asshole until the tip popped out of my mouth.

A very valuable lesson learned in the loss of time.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

The Use & Abuse Of Models

Over July 4th weekend I was perusing the ads for Adult Gigs on Craig’s List. Since I’ve been fairly successful at soliciting models that way, I thought, why not look there and see if anyone might be advertising for someone like me? That way I could earn a little extra spending money for our trip to Disney, coming up later this week, continue to get experience in front of the camera, and use a portion of my earnings to pay more models.

Alas, there was nothing ready-made for short, hairy, slightly out of shape Hispanic men in their mid-40s. But I ran across an ad that intrigued me. The title was “Need Male Talent?” I can’t remember exactly what the rest of the ad said and, now, I can’t even find it, but someone with experience was advertising himself for use in print and video work.

"Hmmm. I could use someone like him," I thought to myself. So I contacted him.

I e-mailed him, explained who I was and what I was doing. I also made sure to tell him upfront that we are a start-up company and couldn’t afford what the big studios paid but would he consider being persuaded to do it for less? Especially under the circumstances.

After several e-mails and a couple of calls, the guy showed up this past Wednesday. Earlier than the agreed upon time, even!

His name is Damian. As in “The Omen.” Although spelled differently, his energy was such that I wanted to go to him. I want to touch him, lick him, bite him, suck him, fuck him, suck on his balls and tug on them and make him moan. His lips have this petulant curve that . . . oh, man . . . (moan, shiver) . . . made me want to kiss him incessantly, chewing on his lower lip.


Damian is a self-proclaimed swinger with a big, fat cock. He is mostly straight, despite his penchant for the occasional male. Ex-military, ex-bodybuilder, naturally smooth, tanned skin, and a killer smile. He was wonderful to shoot, easy-going, open-minded and a delight to work with. He more than made up for the no-show.


And after all was said and done, I kept humming to myself, “Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.”

Now here I am, Saturday evening, about 5:30. The cats are meowing for their food and the dogs eyes are fixed on me as if their lives depended on my next move. And all I can do is think about the hot men that have walked through our front door, gone up the stairs and crossed the threshold into our bedroom. Every time I think about them, and the ones that have yet to lay in our bed, it makes me tingly all over.

I’m not enjoying this too much, am I?

I guess from the things I’ve heard others say, I’ve been lucky thus far. I mean, other than the no-show, the guys I’ve filmed have all been a lot of fun to work with and have made this journey a breeze. I hope my luck continues.

There is one cloud, though. Well, maybe cloud is the wrong word. Perhaps more of a concern. It’s come to my attention over the last couple of days by someone who needs help and I can’t help but wonder. What if one of the models one day just . . . shows up? What if he knocks on the door looking for place to crash because he’s got nowhere else to go? What if we come home one day and everything is gone? How responsible should I feel over the turn of events of someone else’s life who has touched mine?

You see, as much fun as this has been, there’s still a part of me that feels I’m taking advantage of the models. Maybe not the Damians or Ethans who were more doing it for the fun of it. But the others. The ones who might be a bit more pressed for money.

I don’t know if any of you understand what I’m saying and, quite frankly, I’m not sure that I myself totally understand these feelings. I only know that I have sensed a slight undercurrent of desperation, a certain amount of need and desire for money that is not about greed but necessity.

In those moments, when the light bulb flashes somewhere in the back of my mind, and the knowledge, the realization hits me that I have the power to exploit, thrills me beyond any hard-on I’ve ever gotten. I mean, these men, all boys really, are right there, naked and vulnerable in front of me. I can make them do what I want!

And almost aways there’s been yet another light bulb that flashes. This one in my heart. It shows me that I can reach out to them and try to help them. Even while sitting or laying before me and the camera, sexy in their vulnerability, I know that the next step of their lives depends on me and how I treat them. That the money they are earning will help them through something else just as the money I’ve earned has helped me past my stumbling blocks.

Am I totally crazy and sensing something that isn’t there? Or is there really some sense of morality even within something that is considered to be immoral?

Yeah, yeah. I know. I think too much. I also analyze everything to death. I think it's a Libra thing. In fact I have frequently talked myself out of doing something simply because it was too much work, or I put too many obstacles in my own path, or simply didn't believe in what I was doing.

So, instead, I'll just take another deep breath and exhale. I'll let it go. Instead of worrying about taking advantage of the models I'll think about how much fun I'm having.

And I'll get off on the sexual fantasy of using and abusing the models for my own perverse physical pleasures . . . after they leave; once they've walked out the door and I am left with their moving images to remind me.

Friday, July 4, 2008

Two Straights And A No-Show Beats A Full Hand; Doesn't It?

The unsigned model release from last night lay on the dining room table as I came down the stairs this morning. It mocked me silently from where I left it, with the white and blue Bic pen laying diagonally on top of it. A loud reminder of what could have been. The lesson learned from my first no-show.

His name is . . . well, never mind. I guess the name doesn’t matter. But he answered my ad for models on Craig’s List. Cute, sexy Latin, 28, tall, nice ass from what I could tell in the pics he sent. We corresponded heavily for a few days. His last e-mail said he would see me tomorrow, meaning yesterday, at 7:00. He was coming up from Miami on Tri-Rail.

7:00 p.m. came and went. Then 7:15.

At first I wondered, maybe the train was delayed.

Then it was 7:30 and I thought maybe he misjudged the train schedule.

7:45. Still nothing.

By 8:00 p.m. I was angry that I had wasted not only my Thursday evening, but my partners as well. All so we could wait for a guy. I could have set up two other models last night but no; I had chosen him. Something in his eyes, his lips, his ass. Maybe I thought I was going to get some. Maybe I thought I would the chance to eat his ass on camera, finger his hole, give the viewer a thrill: Look! You, too, can do this!

I don’t know.

All I know is that at 8:20 when I finally admitted that the little fucker wasn’t going to show up, I sent him an e-mail thanking him for his thoughtfulness in contacting me to let me know he wasn’t coming. Silly and childish, I know. But it made me feel better.

No phone call, no e-mail, nothing. Not even a reply to my e-mail last night apologizing!

But I guess that’s the lesson of the No-Show.

So now I’m thinking that a day or so before the scheduled shoot, I’m sending out an e-mail that not only states the directions and how to get here (which I give automatically anyway) but the phone number (which I give repeatedly) and the warning that if models are going to be more than half an hour late and I have not yet been contacted, they should consider their session cancelled. I don’t think that’s too unreasonable.


This past week wasn’t an entire loss, however. Although I was disappointed that the beefy latin guy I had set up for Tuesday sent an e-mail saying he didn’t think he was the one I was looking for, at least he e-mailed. So in his place, I was able to get J.R.

J.R., originally from Chicago, is a short, humpy, sexy straight guy with a shaved head, naturally smooth body and a nice dick! I must admit, even I was tempted to go down on him. But he wasn’t into the gay scene. He was here just for the money. So, like any professional driven by green, he followed his orders without question and stripped for the camera. While watching a straight DVD, he stroked out a slow, oozing load, cleaned himself off and went merrily on his way.


J.R. was followed by a handsome, tall drink of chocolate brown water on Wednesday night. Sadly another straight guy. And as we settled into the shoot, I heard the simpy voice of the silly blonde girl in the segment: “Ooooooo. I just love big, black cock fucking my tiny, white pussy.”

I paused a moment, uncomfortable with the thought that maybe the guy on our bed would think I was racist. I cleared my throat and looked into his expectant eyes and said, “Ummm. This is just a coincidence. I’m afraid it’s the only straight porn I have.”

To which he laughed, tossed it aside and we got to work.

Both straight guys turned out to be a very pleasant surprise and easy to work with. I would definitely work with them again if the opportunity arises and the money is there. Only thing is that, if I keep getting straight guys to jerk off for me, I’m going to need to get some more straight porn!


All in all, though, two straights and a no-show. Sounds like a poker hand. Doesn't that beat a full hand?

I have to admit that it’s been an interesting journey since the very first baby steps taken this past January and February. Even with the no-show last night and the second model I shot back in January or February who didn’t want to sign the release until he saw the finished product. And even through all the other stumbling blocks, learning HTML, setting up the blog and the Horndawg Productions webpage, I’m still having fun. I’ve been meeting other people in the industry and learning from the things they tell me.

Back then, I remember wondering if this was truly what I wanted to do, if it would change me, worried about how things would be different from that point on. But things will always be different from any point, no matter what it is we do. So I guess the good thing is that although I feel myself growing and evolving, at least it’s not into the sleazy, slimey pornographer I had envisioned. I’m not quite sure what that is I’m evolving into, but at least I’m on that road to self-discovery and doing something.

And as the last model said to me, in a strangely deep conversation when the shoot was over. “You never know who you’re going to meet that will help you take the next step in your destination.”

Pornography, awareness and self-discovery. What strange bedfellows.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Full Steam Ahead!

This entry was originally written this past Monday, June 30.


After nearly 8 weeks of not doing any filming for Horndawgz it is full steam ahead! Like the Titanic heading for an iceberg. Okay, maybe not that drastic. More like full steam ahead but on half power. That's like drinking a double decaf espresso. Non-effective. At least, that's how I feel today.

After Ethan, I had another filming session this past Thursday. This time with a shy, quiet hottie named Jay whose pictures will appear below. We’re hoping to have him in our first release as well.

I have another planned for tomorrow, Tuesday, with a beefy, sexy latin boy and another on Wednesday, with a tall, sexy straight black boy. Don’t know if the latin guy is straight, gay or bi; he’s not responded. But hey, it doesn’t really matter to me. I just want to watch him stroke his cock, tug on his balls, play with his nipples and watch him shoot a nice hefty load all over his belly. That’s what it’s all about, right?

I know the black guy is straight and has made it clear, under no uncertain terms, that he does not dig the male-male scene. That should be interesting!

I have another two sessions planned as well. One for this coming July 4th weekend and the 4th about one week from now. And that’s it. I’ll have shot my wad. Of bills that is! All the money I earned last week in that 3-way will be gone; but it’s all good. That’s what I did the session for!!!

The problem now is that after reposting the ad on Craig’s List for models this past weekend, I have received another 6 that are interested in letting me film them! Normally that would not be a problem. Lack of capital, however, IS. And I HATE saying no to them because there 3 of them that are totally HOT! Welll, actually, they’re ALL hot! It’s just that 3 of them happen to really get me.

So I’m putting it out there to the universe, as in “The Secret.” I need $450 within a week. HEAR THAT UNIVERSE?

No, wait. That’s not quite right. Okay, here goes. Deep breath in. Slow exhale. I’m closing my eyes (yes, I can actually type with my eyes closed!) and I am visualizing myself with $450 cash in hand so I can pay these sexy men/boys to take off their clothes before me and bestow me with the beauty that is their masculinity and regale me with the form in which they pleasure themselves.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Yes. What a beautiful sight I have in my mind! Now, let’s see if the Universe will provide.

Enjoy the pics of Jay!


Jay at the beginning of our session, leaking through his underwear.


Jay spreads his legs just for you!