A New Home

Hello readers.

Please note that effective immediately, my new Horndawg Productions blogsite is as follows:

blog.horndawgproductions.com.

I'm afraid I've had to make the jump from a free site to a pay site simply because I have more control over content as well as more opportunity to create some revenue this way.

I hope you will visit and subscribe.

As always, thanks for reading!

Boner Guide Reivew Link

One of the really cool, and positive, things that came out of my 6-week stay in NYC helping my mom through her health issues, was my resolve to do something with myself. You see, after 45 years I've grown quite tired of dreaming and hoping and thinking about the "what ifs" and "if onlys". You know what? Dreaming and hoping is nice. Thinking about the "what ifs" or even the "if onlys" is also nice; from to time.

And just as I've realized that the one most holding me back was me, I've also come to believe that no one, except me, is going to help me accomplish anything, unless I start doing something about it.

I went out and bought myself one of those small, thick and chunky, Mead spiral notebooks and a special pen. In it, with my special pen, I write down ideas. I write down things I want to do, things I need to do. I write down websites I want to explore that will help me accomplish my goals. I write down suggestions, brief concepts, marketing plans.

I have prioritized and reprioritized. I have deleted some items, some which were never worth pursuing, some which were completed. And sometimes, for every one I completed, another a few items cropped up.

And I carry them with me almost every where I go.

Now normally, I'm into the "special items" like talismans and icons and other stuff like that to make things happen; but I believe in the mystique behind them and the superstitious habits and rituals that are a part of the process.

One of the things on my list was to look through Craig's List under Writing Gigs.

That's how I found www.bonerguide.com.

Since the time that I first contacted them, and now, I have written three reviews (and gotten paid for them, too!) My first review, is here: http://bonerguide.com/reviews/pages/Detailed/31729.html. Be sure and let me now what you think of the review. I'll keep everyone posted as other's come up.

Working for Boner Guide has been a lot of fun. Imagine getting paid to put words together, give your opinion on a website, and view porn! Pretty cool by my standards. It's not all been fun and games, however. It's been a learning experience, too. For instance, the Safari browser that comes with Macs, isn't always the most reliable or even the most productive when it comes to being on the net.

Also: did you know that if your microprocessor is too slow, you won't be able to stream movies properly? Who knew?

Still Stunned

I still can't believe I have one. I'm so stunned and surprised to have it that I can't stop playing with it. I touch it. I rub it. I get turned on by it.

No. I'm not talking about my dick; though I touch, rub and get turned on by having a cock practically every day.

I'm talking about my book. Here it is one week after putting it all together and I have 2, count 'em TWO sales! And one of them was the proof that I purchased myself to see the finished product.

So what? I can hear you say. Yeah. So what. No big deal really. And it isn't, truly. At least, not in the scheme of things. It's not like it's going to be a Stephen King bestseller. There won't be any midnight sales for me the way there were for J.K. Rowling. And no one's going to come after me offering me money to make the movie version of one of my stories.

And yet, I'm so pleased. So very proud. You see, this is the first time I've actually finished a project. And that, for me, is a big deal. A TRULY big deal. I started something. I stuck through it. I saw it through to the end. And now I'm looking for ways to continue to promote and push it out there.

I even sprang for the $100 to buy my very own ISBN!!! That means that very soon my book will be available for purchase on Amazon, as well as from your local Barnes & Noble, Borders, or whatever Mom & Pop Shop you buy your books from.

I may not have climbed Mount Everest or flown to Paris and gone to the top of the Eiffel Tower but, I finished SOMETHING!

And that makes me feel good.

Remember, if you want to buy a copy of my book, "A Stroke At Midnight" just click on the button to the left of this blog. And be sure to review it!

And now for my next trick . . . more writing coming soon, video edits continued and the fun just never stops.

As always, thanks for reading.

What's Black and White and Red All Over?

So . . . what IS black and white and red all over? No. It's not a nun falling down a flight of stairs. It's me!!!!

Uh, but not falling down the stairs, though that has happened before.

I'm finally in print! YAY! So it's official. I'm now a published writer. Out of all the projects I've been working on lately, the first one has finally come to fruition. You see, I've gathered up my courage, pulled my balls together and self-published my very first book!!!!

It may not be a Stephen King thriller or a piece of Jackie Collins tripe; but it's definitely along the same vein . . . of Jackie Collins, that is.

"a stroke at midnight" is a collection of gay, erotic (fancy word for smut!) stories written under the pseudonym of Johnny Miles. Some of you who know me may remember that I used to write under that pen name. Well, guess what? Johnny Miles lives!!!! HE'S ALIVE!!! And yes, the brain is still somewhat abbey something or other.

At any rate, I'd like to invite you to click on the link below. It will take you directly to the page that shows my book. Take a look and see what I've done. It's a print-on-demand book which can be either ordered as an actual book, or as a download.

http://www.lulu.com/content/3854545

If any of you have any questions or comments, you know how to reach me. If any of you who purchase the book wish to review it after reading, I look forward to it! You can even do it online at lulu, or post it here. Just, be gentle. This is my first time. Ahem.

Thanks for checking it out guys! As always, thanks for your support and your comments. And feel free to forward the link to anyone you think might appreciate reading some plain, ordinary, down and dirty porn.

P.S. Makes a great Christmas gift! (nudge, nudge, wink, wink!)

P.S.S. Yes, I'm planning on coming out with another book but that won't be for a while yet as my next biggest push is going to be our first DVD release.

a stroke at midnight: the proof

Today was possibly the longest day of my life. Many murky things abound, many unsettled things. But many good things, too. Many possibilities. Many things started that seem to be gelling and coming together with a certain scary ease.

One of the issues I've been having at work, along with several others, may soon be coming to a head. Whatever the outcome, it's how it's got to be.

But the worst part was that I couldn't think straight. I would have preferred to stay home, in bed, waiting for the post man. No, the post man doesn't always come twice. In fact, around here, he doesn't come at all. At least, not that I'm aware. And certainly not with me; it's a woman for crying out loud!

But it was what the post man would be bringing; the proof of my very first, self-published, Print-On-Demand book, through lulu.com.

When I opened the mail box, there was a largish box just laying there beneath all the other mail, most of which was garbage. Since my partner orders a lot of stuff through ebay, his comics, and so on, I thought, maybe it was something he ordered. The box was way too big for my little book!

But when I pulled the box out and saw who the shipper was, I nearly pissed myself. Lulu!

Shaking, I tore ass down the street to our townhouse, waved quickly at a neighbor who looked like he wanted to stop and talk, and rushed inside.

Once inside I was besieged by three dogs and two cats; all meowing and barking and spinning in circles and clicking their nails on the floor. I thought I would go mad. But I had to take care of them first because our three dogs are demanding bitches. So are the two cats.

When either one of us gets home, there is no relaxing. There is no racing to the bathroom to pee or checking messages, or e-mail or flipping through what came in the post.

So I lifted up the baby gate, let the girls out back and hurried to the kitchen. First the cats, then the girls. By that point, Emma, the oldest pug, was scratching incessantly at the back door. It's really quite annoying at times. It was especially annoying today.

Somehow, the short amount it actually takes from start to finish, seemed to last longer than usual.

Then, finally, they were done eating. I scooted them out the door, locked them out to do their business while I sat down at the kitchen table to do mine.

First I looked at the box, waiting like an idiot. I guess I was savoring the moment. Will it ever be like this again?

I ripped open the box and there, sitting inside, in a protective plastic wrap, was my very first book ever. A red cover, with white lettering.

a stroke
at
midnight
A Collection of Gay Erotic Stories.

I used a pair of tweezers (they were the first thing available to me) to gently tear a gash in the plastic. Then ripped it off and held my book in my hands. My book. It feels so good to say that.

I opened the cover and flipped through each and every single page. I looked at the title page, the copyright page, the page numbers, the type face, the point size, the thickness of the paper, the look of the cover.

And I shook inside.

I was so completely and totally overjoyed that all I could do was simply . . . sit still.

It was one of those things, one of those moments, that was meant for me and me alone, to experience in my mental and physical solitude.

Even now, several hours afterwards, the book is sitting beside me as I write this, like some superstitious amulet. And I simply don't know what to say. I can't seem to put it down. I feel ecstatic, as though there are endless possibilities now!

And yet I'm frightened.

That's right. You read me right.

You see, the process has started. The ball is rolling. The things I wanted to implement so that I could eventually leave my full-time work and do my own thing. Or at the very least, afford some extra time so I could do what I want, to do some legitimate writing . . . well, that time is here. At least the start of it. And I actually still wonder; am I ready? Am I not just ready, but willing, to stop the "Woe is me?" To stop the dreaming and wondering what if? Am I truly ready to live the life of someone who has absolutely no qualm about starting something, having it fail, fall on my ass, then stand up again and shake myself off?

But more importantly, am I ready, and do I have what it takes, to live the life I've always wanted, to try things and actually succeed?

I know that this is not the end all and be all of my life. It's just another stepping stone. Hell, if that was all there was, I might as well just ask whatever is out there to take me tonight and be done with it.

But I know life is about more than just waking up early and getting to work and being a little bee, carrying out someone else's wishes. I know there's more to life than catering to some theatre snob who is an absolute prick (or cunt) and thinks that because they were born into money, a specific religion, ethnic group, or any other kind of privilege, that they deserve, deserve, deserve.

There has to be more to life than just cashing in your paycheck and dreaming of a better life. Right?

I guess I've just been flinging so much shit that I'm now surprised some of it has stuck and it's actually starting to form some sort of picture. I just can't see what it is just yet.

So? What happens next? I've calmed myself down for one. I've also taken a deep breath. And now I will close my eyes and leap into the darkness that lies before me. I just hope there's something there to catch me.

a stroke at midnight

Just checked my e-mail and got a notice from lulu.com that the proof I ordered for my first story collection has shipped from Jacksonville today. With any luck, I should have the book by the end of this week. I can hardly wait! I'm so excited I feel like I could burst!

Busy As A Bee

I've always heard that expression: busy as a bee. And I never understood it. Now, I think I finally do. There's a lot going on in my life and it's not all in one place. I'm zipping and darting around from project to project, the way a bee flys from flower to flower. Except my zipping and darting is more mental.

Mental. That actually makes me chuckle. There are times I feel mental. And I know there have been moments where my partner would probably want to have me locked up.

Many of my friends have called or e-mailed, wondering where I am. With some, if they don't hear from me at least once a week, there must be something wrong. Now, even some of my readers have begun to contact me wanting to know when they can expect the next blog entry. I apologize. I'm SO very sorry for the delay in getting it out there. I apologize, too, to all my friends whom I've put on hold. I owe a lot of e-mails and phone calls! But hopefully this will also serve as some sort of explanation.

I have to admit that it hasn't all been fun and games.

Yes, I've been busy at my day job; but I've also been unmotivated. It happens every year around this time. Fort Lauderdale in August . . . well, it just fucking sucks dried shit off dead bodies. And, yeah. That's meant to be as disgusting as it sounds.

In addition to the heat, though, there've been a few issues at work with which I'm none too happy about. I've wondered, why don't I just open my mouth and say something? Why do I put up with this shit? I won't bore you with the details because it could get a little close. The world is pretty small, you know? The internet makes it even smaller still.

The irony is that all of a sudden, a light went off in my mind. That light brilliantly filled my mind by putting the entire thing into perspective and filling my heart with hope. You see, I realized that the things that have been happening at work, though not easy to deal with, were (and are) making me uncomfortable for a reason; motivation.

Yes, as silly as it may sound, I realize that if said issue (person?) was removed from the equation, I would become complacent and I would ultimately wind up doing nothing with the plans I've started or the dreams I've begun to bring to light. My ambitions would go by the wayside and all that time would have been for naught.

So I've had to stay motivated. I've had to stay focused and keep pushing myself towards what I truly want; freedom from having to work for someone else. To make a living at porn; be it behind the camera, in front of the camera or writing it. Or, if it turns out to be something else, so be it. Just so long as I'm doing my own thing and I'm happy and don't have to report to someone else or justify why I'm doing what I'm doing or when I'm doing it. Know what I mean?

I have to admit that the company I've been working for this past 6 years has been good to me. The pay totally sucks and I'm behind on so many bills, paying the barest minimum. But the people are great (except for the one riding my ass) and I can be myself. They let me work in our New York office for 6 weeks while I helped my mom through some health issues. That's important to me.

Some of the lack of motivation I've felt hasn't all been work related, though. It's been cyclical and it was my partner who pointed it out. It seems every year at this time, just before my birthday, I get a little down and hard on myself; and not in a good way. I guess although I'm comfortable with myself, I'm still not happy with my station in life, or the lack of things I've achieved.

And so, with all of that in mind, with close and special friends who died this year, others who are undergoing very serious health problems, the scare with my mom when they said she had breast cancer, I decided to do something about my lack of accomplishments. I've grown tired of complaining and not doing anything about it.

I wanted to see results!

So when I got back from New York, I went into shooting with earnest. I've been writing reviews of gay porn sites for www.bonerguide.com. And now I'm working on my first erotic novel.

The review have been fun and although I only have about 4 under my belt, I'm getting paid for them. That helps me catch up on my balls and put a bit aside for a new computer. But it also helps keep me motivated.

Aside from the reviews, we've been editing our first DVD release, "Stray Dawgz." The first 3 segments are done and we have two more to complete. That should be done over the next week or two and then I'll get the master copy to the distributor, AMVC. I don't know how long it will take from there but the first release for Horndawg Productions will be out soon after.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I can hardly contain myself!

One of the things that has made matters difficult for me has been time. If I'm not editing, like Trekkie Monster from Avenue Q, I'm surfing the internet for porn. And there's always been that part of me that's like, "You're wasting time! What the fuck are you doing?"

So I feel bad about wasting time which leads me to escape by surfing the internet for even more porn and it just compounds itself. I wind up not doing what I originally set out to do and the amount of time spent in front of the computer surfing for porn, downloading dirty pictures, chatting in rooms or communicating with the on-line friends I've made on sites such as bnskin, dudesnude, barebackrt, daddyhunt, and sometimes adam4adam, just makes me feel like shit. A big fucking loser.

Then, when I'm not on any of those sites, I'm on Yahoo chat talking dirty to the internet acquaintances I've made or just shooting the breeze.

With the realization that I'm running out of time, I was hitting critical mass point. I've been getting real down and hard on myself. And not in a good way.

Until jmgarcia on Dudes Nude.

This little guy is a hot latin beauty with an upbeat profile and what sounds like such a great personality to match. I couldn't help checking out his pics. Of course, it helped that he looked like I wanted him to be the very fruit of my loins. He's an intelligent young man and the one thing that got to me the most from his profile . . . you'll laugh, but it's true . . . is that at the age of 22, he is publishing his very first book!

Normally, when I read something like that, the green monster of envy rears it's ugly head. But I couldn't help myself this time. I was so pleased and so very happy for him that I sent him a note telling him how excited I was. Surprisingly, I got one back. I say surprising because not many hot, cute 22-year-olds reply so positively, or with nothing more than a "Thanks, pops."

This guy not only took the time to say thanks but was so enamored by the stroke to his ego that he went into a bit of detail! Telling me the name of the book, the release date, as well as how he is publishing it.

His book is called, "Tales of a Harlequin Boy." It is set to be released on 9/15/08 and is published under the name of Jose M Garcia.

I am so pleased and so proud of him. And I don't even know him or want anything from him! Well, okay. Maybe that part's not true. If he gave me a kiss I'd be happy. If he gave me a kiss AND a hug I'd be even happier still. If he game a kiss, a hug and pressed his hard little body up against mine, I'd probably come on the spot!

But I digress.

Seriously, though. As a result of stumbling across him, I started to think that maybe I wasn't exactly wasting as much time as I thought. I mean, I'm probably justifying the amount of time I spend on the internet, but, if I hadn't been surfing as I normally do, I wouldn't have seen his pic. If I hadn't seen his pic I wouldn't have clicked on it. If I hadn't clicked on his, I wouldn't have read his profile. And if I hadn't read his profile, I wouldn't have sent him the e-mail I did.

And I would not have found out about lulu.com.

The seeds of things, hell, the very GERM of thoughts I used to have came back to life quicker than you can say Frederick Frankenstein.

Following the exploration of lulu.com, except for a full work week, I devoted all my time, all of my focus and all of my energy on a project. Including one full, 3-day Labor Day weekend ignoring my partner, I probably spent a week putting together a collection of 7, gay, erotic stories. The book is called "a stroke at midnight," and I am now awaiting the very first copy to peruse and decide if I like the look of it or not. If I like it, then I will let everyone know. I will also post it here so that any of my readers who wish to buy it can simply click on the link and purchase the book.

For any of you out there who wish to be alerted as to when the book will be ready, let me know and I will put you on a mailing list. If you would rather wait, that's fine, too. I'll be posting the link here.

For any of you who are also writers and have wondered about self-publishing, you might want to check out the site: www.lulu.com.

You'll find out all you need to know about self-publishing, how they do it, how much it will cost you, and about P.O.D. (print-on-demand). It's absolutely incredible and I just know the next few months are going to be a whirlwind of activity and exciting new ventures!

Oh, yeah . . . I've also been e-baying the crap out of the CDs I no longer want to keep.

Stay tuned! And as always, thanks for reading.

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.

Finally . . . Comfortable In My Own Skin

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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.

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.

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.

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!

Ethan

You'll be pleased to know that I've put some of the money I earned earlier this week to some very good use!

I first saw Ethan online. I liked his profile bio, his pics and his slow, sexy smile. Okay, okay. Fine. I'll admit that it was the pics of his cock and balls that caught my attention first. But he sounded like a really nice guy and I contacted him.

He came over this past Wednesday evening and was quite a surprise! Turns out he was great to work with. Not only was he personable and easy to chat with; he was nice to look at, too! Especially if you like redheads. Or tall men. Or big cocks. Or big balls.

Ethan will be appearing in our first release, "Stray Dawgz." Hope you like his pics!

I’m baaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaaacccck!

I lost my Hello Penis blog.

It seems that if you don’t log in at least once within a 30-day period, you lose it. It’s a shame, too, because I really liked it and I think I had put some of my best writing on it. Therefore, since I don’t want that type of requirement in case I have to leave town (or the country!) for an extended period of time, I’ve decided to try blogspot. Mind you, I have needed to put a warning label on here about adult content, must be over 18, and all that happy crap just to protect the sanctity and hypocrisy of others, but at least I won’t have to log in every 30 days to keep it active. And who knows? I may yet go back to Hello Penis. There are trade-offs after all and life is frequently about weighing out the better options.

So, for now, this is where I am.

After moping around for nearly two weeks since coming back to Fort Lauderdale from NYC, I’m now back in the saddle. Yes. That’s right. I’m baaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccck!

And it took David, from Home Town Guys, to tempt me back to the saddle. Well, sort of. He tempted me by offering not one, but two, hot little holes that were eager to take some cock. Well, one of them was. The other, a guy I’ve never worked with before, I guess was curious so I fucked him for a while as well. His naturally hairless hole tasted sweet and clamped around the base of my cock like a vise.

Though I was hesitant about the session at first because I gained weight while in NYC and had not gone to the gym (too much of Mom’s home-cooked meals!) I desperately needed the money. I squashed the guilt about calling in sick to work and suppressed my own negative self-image and said yes to the session. My sincerest of apologies to my boss in case he ever reads this.

Despite the “mean Reds” that kept threatening to take hold of me, I think the session went well. It was hot, sexy as fuck and the results will be edited over the summer. In the meantime, David, the director and cameraman, was kind enough to send me pics from the 3-way session. Hope you like them.

Me getting sucked by Jack Dean while Mike eats his hole.


Jack Dean sucking my cock and getting his sucked by Mike.


Me, the happy Dad on his back while Jack rides my cock and Mike rides my tongue.


Me fucking Mike while Jack watches.


Mike chewing on my foreskin.


A fresh load for my boys.


The DVD will probably be out sometime early fall. Be sure to check out David’s website for the release date and other films he’s done: www.hometownguys.com

I’m glad I said yes to the session. Not just because it was fun and I needed the money. It helped get me out of the funk I was in; I’m always depressed when I leave NYC.

And you know? It’s kinda strange how something as simple as plain, ordinary fucking can do so much for the ego, the body, and your psyche.