Translation of dialogue is not essential though, of course, knowledge of Spanish enhances one's appreciation of the work. The images and actions tell their own story.
Variations in Art and Power
Variations in Art and Power
Sunday, January 08, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Gay Porn and Straight Men
I've got to rewire my brain and focus on something more worthwhile than videos of other men having sex.
See the following link for more possible solutions to the problem of gay porn addiction::
Straight Men and Gay Porn
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sex Club Vacation and Surprising Encounter
Nudity Advisory: If you are uncomfortable with male nudity or gay themes, please exit this blog at once. Thank you.
He found himself at the entrance to a club that looked like it oozed with sex. It did. It oozed with more than sex or semen. There was a sinister quality to the club inside that was not apparent when he first walked in.
It was a narrow club. The bar was almost invisible, but the men were there, like guides to inner doors that revealed darker and darker secrets. It had been what seemed like years, though only days or weeks had passed since he had made hard, cold contact with a naked form in a club, so the inner recesses of the club drew him deeper and deeper until he thought he found what he was looking for. When he entered the first room and stripped completely nude, to his horror all the other nude men in the room were flagelating themselves with leather whips in a brightly lit room that made the scene even more garrish. It reminded him of the monks in Spain that walked the streets in white hoods and simultaneously flagelated themselves as the blood oozed from their atoning backs. Hoping that this was just some sort of bad cabaret from spoiled clubbing denizens, he got n
earer to the opening of the darkening door that led into the back room. To his horror, with what little light fell into the door to the backroom, among the crouching men and twisting bodies were other men whipping themselves and whipping others as well. Nothing like this could ever attract him. In fact the darkness of the entire series of rooms and situations filled him with the darkest of horrors.
He slipped into his shorts in time to be met by Lindo Archer, whom he hadn't seen in years, and the pot belly that greated him told a sorry tale of beer and too many late nights in the dark. Both Lindo and his potbellied form greeted him by quickly taking off his shorts and not asking, but demanding, that he let him quench his thirst. He liked the guy, so he just stood there and let Lindo help himself. After all he was a one-time friend or acquaintance, and this was better than anything the dark rooms and the whipping men had to offer.
He waved goodbye to Lindo, pulled on his shorts again and walked over to the outdoor pool where he was the only one to jump in with nothing
but his cotton briefs on. The huge pressure of the water pushed the flimsy fabric off his body and he walked out of the water totally nude. No one seemed to notice. It was that kind of town or state of mind. When the owners of the club, waved at him to come back next week and do it all again, he waved with a doubtful smile and looked at his soiled lace bikini briefs that had an odd burnt-ochre stain on the fabric and on his fingers. He wished he were closer to water to rinse away the odd-smelling paste, but the taxi was not going to wait another minute, so he jumped into the cab as is and let the driver complain about smelling nothing pleasant for the second time that year.
He found himself at the entrance to a club that looked like it oozed with sex. It did. It oozed with more than sex or semen. There was a sinister quality to the club inside that was not apparent when he first walked in.It was a narrow club. The bar was almost invisible, but the men were there, like guides to inner doors that revealed darker and darker secrets. It had been what seemed like years, though only days or weeks had passed since he had made hard, cold contact with a naked form in a club, so the inner recesses of the club drew him deeper and deeper until he thought he found what he was looking for. When he entered the first room and stripped completely nude, to his horror all the other nude men in the room were flagelating themselves with leather whips in a brightly lit room that made the scene even more garrish. It reminded him of the monks in Spain that walked the streets in white hoods and simultaneously flagelated themselves as the blood oozed from their atoning backs. Hoping that this was just some sort of bad cabaret from spoiled clubbing denizens, he got n
earer to the opening of the darkening door that led into the back room. To his horror, with what little light fell into the door to the backroom, among the crouching men and twisting bodies were other men whipping themselves and whipping others as well. Nothing like this could ever attract him. In fact the darkness of the entire series of rooms and situations filled him with the darkest of horrors.He slipped into his shorts in time to be met by Lindo Archer, whom he hadn't seen in years, and the pot belly that greated him told a sorry tale of beer and too many late nights in the dark. Both Lindo and his potbellied form greeted him by quickly taking off his shorts and not asking, but demanding, that he let him quench his thirst. He liked the guy, so he just stood there and let Lindo help himself. After all he was a one-time friend or acquaintance, and this was better than anything the dark rooms and the whipping men had to offer.
He waved goodbye to Lindo, pulled on his shorts again and walked over to the outdoor pool where he was the only one to jump in with nothing
but his cotton briefs on. The huge pressure of the water pushed the flimsy fabric off his body and he walked out of the water totally nude. No one seemed to notice. It was that kind of town or state of mind. When the owners of the club, waved at him to come back next week and do it all again, he waved with a doubtful smile and looked at his soiled lace bikini briefs that had an odd burnt-ochre stain on the fabric and on his fingers. He wished he were closer to water to rinse away the odd-smelling paste, but the taxi was not going to wait another minute, so he jumped into the cab as is and let the driver complain about smelling nothing pleasant for the second time that year.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Exhibitionism and Its Allure for Gay Men
However, there were other types of exhibitionism both in the parade and in the street carnival that would never make it onto the evening news, unless they were first digitally blurred to cover the hint of pubic hair that was purposely exhibited at the top of the low slung shorts or underwear.
I
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Restrained Foreplay with A Boyish Man
Nudity Advisory: If you are uncomfortable with male nudity or gay themes, please exit this blog at once. Thank you.
He was nicely dressed and groomed and he was handsome in a way that I found appealing. One smile in his direction as he walked inside the coffee shop was enough to make him want to sit net to me. Within minutes we were getting to know each other.
We were both Latino; I thought he was Anglo or Italian. You can't tell ethnicity sometimes. You have to wait till the guy tells you. He was very proper in his approach and very traditionally Latino. He later said the same about me; that's the reason I appealed to him so much.
To my surprise after 1/2 hour of light conversation he accepted an invitation to coffee and dessert at my place. He quickly said he's like that. I thought he really wanted dessert. He didn't come across as rabidly sexual and that was part of the charm. I thought for a moment or two that he liked being invited over for coffee and dessert whenever possible.
On my yellow sofa we slowly got closer and closer until he felt the urge to hug me, so I let him. I told him if he continued to full-body hug me so tightly I would get too excited to restrain myself. But he opted for more conversation and intimate moments over coffee and scones.
Then the little series of games began. It's a good thing that I'm flexible and willing to learn new approaches to man-to-man experiences so I played along. He made rules about no shirts coming off. Then he broke them and we were both shirtless 1/2 hour later. Me made rules about no pants off. Those came off as well. His last rule, or so I thought, was that we would not go to bed that night. It was he that suggested 15 minutes later that we go to my bedroom to relax. He called it relaxing and I couldn't figure out till later.
We played show and and tell games and hide the baloney games and finally I said I'd have to pee as I left the bed with my briefs still on and a raging hard on to go with it. He said he'd like to see me in the nude. I complied. We played more of his little games and I was more patient than usual.
We finally did reach orgasm; well he did by getting him hot and bothered when I licked his nipples as he groaned with pleasure. He told me to stop even though it was causing him such pleasure. If I didn't stop, he said, he would ejaculate all over my bed or down his hairy thighs. I couldn't figure out why he'd want me to stop so I gently kept licking his left nipple and he finally shot hot streams of jism into his half-cupped hands as he tried to catch the dripping semen.
He then told me that was the first time he'd ever had sex with a man. He wasn't sure if he should have done so as he was struggling with his sexuality and his Christian upbringing, but he sure wanted to see me again. Had he told me from the start both of these details I would have said that I was not the kind of guy that initiates struggling Christians into man-to-man intimacies since I know first-hand how complicated that struggle can at times be. But he was grateful for the experience. I was relieved that he had taken the first time so well. He said that it couldn't have been with a nicer and more patient guy. I smiled, kissed him in the nude as he waved goodbye and walked through the front door ready for his drive home to his mom and dad, his wife or his empty apartment.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Gay Christian Male and Temptation
Something is not quite typical about the mostly nude or sex-oriented posts that appear from time to time on this blog. With all respect to gay or bisexual men who are not Christian or religious, this blog would be more in sync with a secular or humanist individual because of its obsession and, at times, naturalness regarding nudity and sex. It stretches belief to realize that I am obsessed with reading the Bible and praying daily two or three times a day, as well. My most tender moments are of God and spiritual themes.There have been times when I've not given myself pleasure for weeks, if you can believe it. It surprised me that I could be so disciplined. I'm not sure what brought that about. It wasn't lack of ability, but rather, something unseen or unexplainable. I can't be sure it was all of a spiritual nature. It simply was that I chose not to masturbate.
In addition, for two or three weeks now I purposely stay away from instant gay dating sites which hook you up with a variety of men. I've even met guys younger than myself by 10 or 15 years. That surprised me though I never told them my age. But ultimately, sites like that lead to more complications than is worth the bother.
So what happens now? I think it's healthy, in part, not to be ashamed of my nude body even though it still needs work, but both my physique and myself are works in progress. I am still evolving and becoming better and better even as I experience each passing year. It's better to be alive, though not as young as I used to be, than not to be alive at all. For that I am grateful.
At the local Starbucks I am starting to get positive comments from guys that are younger and more buff than I am, as well as previous acquaintances that approve of my gradual evolution into a different, improved model.
Nevertheless, I am still searching for a solution to the dichotomy of my life which features episodes of darkness and light and sometimes the half-light that is closer to the human condition and experience.
Whether you are struggling with any of the episodes I document in this blog or other challenges, never give up. Remember:
Darkness lightness. The night lasts only a few hours. Light, perhaps redefined, will come again into my life and into yours, as well.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Why the Woods Beckoned Me After Dark
Visual and Literary Nudity Advisory: If you are uncomfortable with male nudity or gay themes, please exit this blog at once. Thank you.
Moonlit night. Too dark to videotape myself in the dark woods. The moon illuminated my partially nude body. My gold shirt was off and lying on the dark ground. No photographs could be taken of myself in the woods. Only the moon was bright enough to photograph. The road where cars might pass was visible dimly from where I stood in the woods so I took off the rest of my clothes: my dungarees and my briefs. I stayed in the half shadows until I had to start doing what I now realized this foiled videotape session had led me to do. I stepped into the full moonlight and held my manhood in my cold fingers. It was not a warm night. I could feel my nipples cold as I touched them. The chill in the air added to the unique moment I was experiencing. The woods beckoned me and I had to be there.
These were the same woods that 10 years earlier had witnessed a passioned interlude with another nude man I had met in another park down the road. At the time it was a sunny afternoon and mid-summer. The semen flowed effortlessly and the other guy wiped my throbbing man root with his flannel shirt and hungrily tasted my redder-than-crimson fruit.
Tonight was different. He was not present. It was only me in the woods after dark. The stars were visible as little light dimmed their natural glow. The chilly evening made it difficult to reach climax, but in no time at all the climax produced its pearly white surprise and I dared not let it fall onto the tell-tale ground. Not knowing what else to do I swallowed it and licked up the residue that lingered on my fingers and my open palm. My moustache was probably lightly coated with the milky sheen, but that would have to wait. As I lingered on this experience and, yes, enjoyed it, I knew that during those 20 minutes I was more synchronized with some of the gnostic Christians of the the first century A.D. and their exotic sexual rituals, than with the traditional Christianity I have known all my lie.. No doubt some of them, though male and female together, went into the woods and offered the result of passion and excitation to the deity of the shining moon.
After I dressed I cautiously searched for the nature path that had led me to that secluded place in the woods and headed for the parking lot area. a quarter of a mile away.
Moonlit night. Too dark to videotape myself in the dark woods. The moon illuminated my partially nude body. My gold shirt was off and lying on the dark ground. No photographs could be taken of myself in the woods. Only the moon was bright enough to photograph. The road where cars might pass was visible dimly from where I stood in the woods so I took off the rest of my clothes: my dungarees and my briefs. I stayed in the half shadows until I had to start doing what I now realized this foiled videotape session had led me to do. I stepped into the full moonlight and held my manhood in my cold fingers. It was not a warm night. I could feel my nipples cold as I touched them. The chill in the air added to the unique moment I was experiencing. The woods beckoned me and I had to be there.
These were the same woods that 10 years earlier had witnessed a passioned interlude with another nude man I had met in another park down the road. At the time it was a sunny afternoon and mid-summer. The semen flowed effortlessly and the other guy wiped my throbbing man root with his flannel shirt and hungrily tasted my redder-than-crimson fruit.
Tonight was different. He was not present. It was only me in the woods after dark. The stars were visible as little light dimmed their natural glow. The chilly evening made it difficult to reach climax, but in no time at all the climax produced its pearly white surprise and I dared not let it fall onto the tell-tale ground. Not knowing what else to do I swallowed it and licked up the residue that lingered on my fingers and my open palm. My moustache was probably lightly coated with the milky sheen, but that would have to wait. As I lingered on this experience and, yes, enjoyed it, I knew that during those 20 minutes I was more synchronized with some of the gnostic Christians of the the first century A.D. and their exotic sexual rituals, than with the traditional Christianity I have known all my lie.. No doubt some of them, though male and female together, went into the woods and offered the result of passion and excitation to the deity of the shining moon.
After I dressed I cautiously searched for the nature path that had led me to that secluded place in the woods and headed for the parking lot area. a quarter of a mile away.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Gay-friendly Starbucks - Wilton Manors, FL
Every Starbucks reflects its immediate community and reinforces it. At least in this venue the staff reflects in part its neighborhood. The few barristas that are heterosexual are, shrewdly, gay-tolerant.
For those who don't drink this very successful outlet is the ideal choice for makng friends. After hours of coffee, tea and pleasant conversation, one can walk to the curb with very little effort. Equal time spent in a nearby bar pales in comparison.
Not everybody in the gay hood is gay, lesbian or transgender. Those who are 'other' feel at ease when same sex parties kiss or they simply fail to return.
Age, disabilities, accent or political affinities are all welcome and feel at Home here. This is my second home for I come here after work for an hour before heading home.
If I am fortunate it's likely that I'll meet my next significant other at the granite counter or in the sometimes smoky patio by swaying palm trees.
Gay tourists must stop here when in town and in need of recreation and relaxation.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Gays in Heaven
Wondering: So you are the one that sets the limits?
Where is God in all of this?
Wondering, thank you for taking the time and for caring enough to quote me in full, as well, as asking your valid question.
First of all, I hesitated with sharing what many will see as an unflattering version of gay life within an ultra-progressive adventist context, my own. Nevertheless, it is a slice of my gay life, past and present.
Whether you chose to believe it or not, I can only assure you that it is the truth.
God came to my rescue with these amazing texts: The Lord is my light and my salvation. The Lord is the strength of my life. Of whom then shall I be afraid. The Lord is my shepherd. He restores my soul.
During the last months of a broken relationship, as the 14 years were coming to an end, it was only these words, learned during childhood, that game me strength, hope and sanity to endure the ultimate insult. As I fell asleep chanting these words until sleep finally eased my pain, the man I had loved and cared for through sickness and unemployment, had abondoned me and without concern as to my feelings left me to my "guest room" in our own house while he slept with his new younger, wealthier lover in what formerly was our master bedroom.
Most people in that situation would either go mad or go beserk. I did not have the economic luxury to do either.
In spite of the realization that according to my Adventist family I was "living in sin" and in spite of having fallen from a dynamic faith relationship with Christ into nominal Christianity, I believed enough in Christ to seek him as I lived out the remaining months of a living hell.
So for whatever it's worth, even homosexuals still have an open door to God's grace at all times. "...whoever belives in him should not perish..."
And let's not talk of cheap grace. Grace is never cheap. Grace is simply free. The more sinful we find ourselves to be, the freer it seems. The more righteous or moral we think we are, the less need we seem to have for God's "forgiving love, loving kindness, and unmerited favor."
Only the greatest of sinners can ever truly appreciate the incredible gift of being saved by nothing more than a relationship with Christ, not on how near-perfect and morally upright we imagine ourselves to be. "Those who have been forgiven much have greater love for Christ."
Those who consider their sins paltry love less because they believe they have been forgiven for less, and because theirs are so-called lesser evils and more "normal" human failings. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified freely ..."
Thank you all for taking time--those of you who are not squeemish--to read my personal story. I hope it has been of benefit to some of you.
Posted by: Bunbury Vidal
The above post was taken from a larger dialogue by progressive Christians regarding the film For the Bible Tells Me So.
Where is God in all of this?
Wondering, thank you for taking the time and for caring enough to quote me in full, as well, as asking your valid question.
First of all, I hesitated with sharing what many will see as an unflattering version of gay life within an ultra-progressive adventist context, my own. Nevertheless, it is a slice of my gay life, past and present.
Whether you chose to believe it or not, I can only assure you that it is the truth.
God came to my rescue with these amazing texts: The Lord is my light and my salvation. The Lord is the strength of my life. Of whom then shall I be afraid. The Lord is my shepherd. He restores my soul.
During the last months of a broken relationship, as the 14 years were coming to an end, it was only these words, learned during childhood, that game me strength, hope and sanity to endure the ultimate insult. As I fell asleep chanting these words until sleep finally eased my pain, the man I had loved and cared for through sickness and unemployment, had abondoned me and without concern as to my feelings left me to my "guest room" in our own house while he slept with his new younger, wealthier lover in what formerly was our master bedroom.
Most people in that situation would either go mad or go beserk. I did not have the economic luxury to do either.
In spite of the realization that according to my Adventist family I was "living in sin" and in spite of having fallen from a dynamic faith relationship with Christ into nominal Christianity, I believed enough in Christ to seek him as I lived out the remaining months of a living hell.
So for whatever it's worth, even homosexuals still have an open door to God's grace at all times. "...whoever belives in him should not perish..."
And let's not talk of cheap grace. Grace is never cheap. Grace is simply free. The more sinful we find ourselves to be, the freer it seems. The more righteous or moral we think we are, the less need we seem to have for God's "forgiving love, loving kindness, and unmerited favor."
Only the greatest of sinners can ever truly appreciate the incredible gift of being saved by nothing more than a relationship with Christ, not on how near-perfect and morally upright we imagine ourselves to be. "Those who have been forgiven much have greater love for Christ."
Those who consider their sins paltry love less because they believe they have been forgiven for less, and because theirs are so-called lesser evils and more "normal" human failings. "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified freely ..."
Thank you all for taking time--those of you who are not squeemish--to read my personal story. I hope it has been of benefit to some of you.
Posted by: Bunbury Vidal
The above post was taken from a larger dialogue by progressive Christians regarding the film For the Bible Tells Me So.
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Gay Porn Addiction
Nudity Advisory: If you are uncomfortable with male nudity or gay themes, please exit this blog at once. Thank you.
It's hard to admit that one is addicted to anything especially to something as peculiar as pornography. I guess there's a bit of a voyeur in a lot of us. There is in me. For over a year I had not cared at all about wasting time jacking off in front of my PC with the hottest pics of men in complete undress. For whatever reason I now spend time looking for nude photos of men in order to jack off with the images in front of me. I no longer get too aroused by pictures of nude men alone. They have to be having sex with each other in order for the picture to be worth saving in my Red folder.
After I've jacked off I sometimes think that it would save time next time to not delete the nude contents of my Red folder. But then I find that the guilt associated with keeping my Red folder full of gay porn makes me uncomfortable when I pray or read the bible. Yes, I am a man who is both gay but Christian.
I rarely go searching for real live sex with other men. If it finds me accidentally, like in the men's room at a fast food restaurant where I had gone to wash my hands before I ate, then it is what it is and I enjoy the oddness of interacting with a real live person instead of images on my PC monitor. At other times, I've been walking at sunset in my community and a shirtless gay man will say hello and ask if I want to have sex. I accept his invitation--which doesn't happ
en very often, maybe three times a year--and I have sex with him since the next incidental opportunity to have sex with another guy won't be around the corner with any regularity.
I read my bible and pray daily that God will help me to lose interest in gay porn especially since it takes so much of my time. Images of gay porn intrude on my life at random moments, as well as in dreams and sometimes I dislike the fact that I have become obsessed with gay porn. The only good thing I can say about jacking off to gay porn is that my orgasm's are more intense since I stimulate myself for a longer period of time.
It's hard to admit that one is addicted to anything especially to something as peculiar as pornography. I guess there's a bit of a voyeur in a lot of us. There is in me. For over a year I had not cared at all about wasting time jacking off in front of my PC with the hottest pics of men in complete undress. For whatever reason I now spend time looking for nude photos of men in order to jack off with the images in front of me. I no longer get too aroused by pictures of nude men alone. They have to be having sex with each other in order for the picture to be worth saving in my Red folder.
After I've jacked off I sometimes think that it would save time next time to not delete the nude contents of my Red folder. But then I find that the guilt associated with keeping my Red folder full of gay porn makes me uncomfortable when I pray or read the bible. Yes, I am a man who is both gay but Christian.
I rarely go searching for real live sex with other men. If it finds me accidentally, like in the men's room at a fast food restaurant where I had gone to wash my hands before I ate, then it is what it is and I enjoy the oddness of interacting with a real live person instead of images on my PC monitor. At other times, I've been walking at sunset in my community and a shirtless gay man will say hello and ask if I want to have sex. I accept his invitation--which doesn't happ
en very often, maybe three times a year--and I have sex with him since the next incidental opportunity to have sex with another guy won't be around the corner with any regularity.I read my bible and pray daily that God will help me to lose interest in gay porn especially since it takes so much of my time. Images of gay porn intrude on my life at random moments, as well as in dreams and sometimes I dislike the fact that I have become obsessed with gay porn. The only good thing I can say about jacking off to gay porn is that my orgasm's are more intense since I stimulate myself for a longer period of time.
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