Guy #131 – The ring beard…

Blessed with everything but a plan or even the slightest idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I moved to the island of Curaçao in October of 2013.

For a few years I lived in this tiny country, cocooned from the outside world by its climate, the beaches, the rum, the air conditioning and the fact I was one of only a few white Guys on Grindr.

On the downside, I was also one of the few Guys actually on Curaçao. On bad days the bottom 50 Guys appearing on my Grindr screen were literally an ocean away from me, stuck in Venezuela or Colombia.

With a population of just 150,000 people, Curaçao had no gay life to speak of. It was friendly to gays, but by no means hospitable, or facilitating for that matter.

Discouraged by the lack of doable Guys in my vicinity I decided to be polite when Guy #131 hit me up online, saying he liked my selfies. I didn’t consider it much of a compliment. In this corner of the Earth I was one of the few online people who even had selfies.

Still, it was nice talking to a gay Guy again. That hadn’t happened in weeks. Guy #131’s job consisted of writing copy for gay porn sites. It struck me as the easiest job in the world, getting paid to write about sex. When I shifted through some of the sites Guy #131 referred me to I was appalled by the number of mistakes and errors there were to be found in his copywriting efforts. I instantly knew I would be so much better at this job than Guy #131 was.

So I accepted Guy #131’s invitation for drinks at his place, hoping to learn how one can get paid writing about sex. It was more of a mission than a date, one that did not start off well: I had just parked my car and slammed the door when I realized my keys were still inside. My car, much like my date, was kind of old. Its lack of electrical windows allowed Guy #131, his landlord and his landlord’s friend to pry one open far enough to get my keys back. It had taken them a good 15 minutes.

Relieved as I was to know I still had a working car at my disposal, it came with a price, namely my diminished amount of self worth: Here I was, in a strange country, where I knew absolutely no one and my first date had to witness me being completely incompetent by locking myself out of my car.

My intention had been to seduce Guy #131 up to the point he would tell me how to get paid writing about stuff people do in gay porn. I had anticipated my charm to be enough to sway him, but our little paradise by the dashboard light had killed my mojo.

Once inside Guy #131 showed me more of his work as he spoke about working in the porn industry. From what I gathered all he ever did was write captions for porn videos. And they were awful. So I asked how one becomes a writer in porn, but no matter how I phrased it, I never got a clear answer. Instead he showed me some more porn videos and started touching me. Determined to get my first job as a paid writer I kissed him when he tried to.

6

It was in that moment I realized his ring beard was all the hair he had. It’s not that I hadn’t seen his baldness before. I just hadn’t registered it as such. Now that he was about to do a porn routine on me I could only think Guy #131 was kind of weird looking with that silly ring beard, not unattractive, but too weird to be pretty regardless.

There are one or two wholly painless sexual positions where one person can be completely passive. Those were the positions I attained as Guy #131 went down on me. It was the kind of sex where I wished for a magazine to make the time pass quicker.

Afterward, he turned off the porn and started inquiring about my life. I told him about this blog I maintained at the time and how it got over a 100 views on a good day. Even before our date was over I knew I would always regret letting a ring beard this outlandishly peculiar go to second base without giving me a single clue about living off the internet first.

I continued my inquiry for good manner, but in the end all he told me was that someone had asked him to do this job. Basically, Guy #131 got to give oral in exchange for telling me he owed his job to one of the 7 billion people on this planet.

I did end up thanking Guy #131 for helping me out with my car key earlier. Leaving had indeed become my top priority as our date progressed. He contacted me a few times afterward, but I pretended to be one of 7 billion people.

My reason for going on a date with Guy #131 was to get information. I was armed with my charm and well received selfies. Guy #131 met up with me to get laid. He was armed with information.

Even as one of the few white Guys in a little tropical paradise, I suck at playing the game sometimes.


Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 3 hours
FORMAT: Drinks with sex involved somehow
SEX SCORE (0 = Being stared at by an octopus <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 2,5

Guy #29, #30 and #31 – Another date, another Dollar…

 

 


 

 

At least I’m getting paid for this.

Those were my thoughts as I went through having sex with Guy #29, #30 and #31.

Thinking about money doesn’t make for great sex. I don’t think it made for a good movie either.

One day, in the summer of 2009, I shot three porn scenes in a hotel room in Toronto’s gay district.

Having sex three times a day is a lot of work.

Guy #29, my first colleague of the day, was by far the cutest. Our story was an inspiring one: The two of us had supposedly met in the lobby of our hotel and went from eying each other to having oral sex in a hotel room.

The sex with Guy #29 was actually fun. Both of us were enjoying it, despite the fact there were three guys filming us.

The thing is, those three guys wanted an hour of material. That meant I had to postpone the part people often fast forward to when watching porn, the money shot as it’s called.

Going a full hour of constant receptive oral sex without any money shooting requires a lot of concentration. I literally had to think of unsexy thoughts to prevent myself from climaxing.

When I finally was allowed to, I knew the hardest part of my day was over.

That was true in the sense that Guy #30, who I had to perform oral duties on half an hour later, was anything but hard. I suspected him of being a straight guy looking for a way to make money. He must have figured there are worse things than receiving oral sex for an hour.
I got the feeling he resented me. Or maybe he resented himself for doing gay porn and that sentiment echoed into his sexuality.

It was difficult acting excited when we both clearly weren’t. God knows what we were thinking back in the lobby, where we had supposedly met each other.

Going a full hour of having sex with someone who radiates nothing but resentment is nothing short of torture, even more so when it’s being filmed.

The only time Guy #30 and I felt the same was at the end, when we were both happy it was over.

Guy #31 entered the hotel room just as Guy #30 was leaving.

Guy #31 was by far the least attractive of the three. He was also the sweetest. I could tell he considered himself lucky he had supposedly met me in the lobby. With two money shots already on my score board it was very easy to postpone this one for as long as I needed it to.

Added to that, Guy #31 was good at his job.

I think it’s funny I ended up having the better sex with the one I deemed least attractive.

Still, doing porn is hard work. I was happy to have experienced it, but I was probably happier it would always be an adventure, never a career.

There’s just too many unsexy thoughts going on when you’re doing porn.

CAM00410 - Copy

 

 


 

 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 3 x 1 hour
FORMAT: Collegial
SEX SCORE GUY #29 (0 = Thinking of Kim Jong-un during sex <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 7.5
SEX SCORE GUY #30 (0 = Picturing Kim Jong-un doing a lap dance <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 2
SEX SCORE GUY #31 (0 = ‘Kim Jong-un, is that a box of Pringles in your pants or are you happy to see me?’ <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 8

Guy #25 – The man with the beard, the jaded lighting guy and the harbinger of glucose…

 

 


 

 

They say prostitution is the world’s oldest profession, but porn must have followed suit soon afterward.

Porn lets us step into a world where our fantasies can become reality. That can make it a wonderful product. Granted, these are usually not the kind of fairytales you talk about during Thanksgiving dinner with family.

Erastes_eromenos_Staatliche_Antikensammlungen_1468

My mother and I once had a conversation about porn.
‘I sometimes wondered what it would be like,’ she said, ‘but I could never imagine actually doing anything like that.’
‘What would you say if I had done porn?’ I asked.
‘I don’t think I’d want to know. Mothers don’t need to know everything.’
I left it at that.

Yet the vast majority of people I know are fully aware of the fact I did gay porn once. Well, six times, but all within a very short time span. I never received anything but compliments, mostly from those who hadn’t even seen the actual product. Most people would admit to me that they too had once fantasized about being in a porn movie.

To all the people still in the closet out there, now that you have read all this: I know what it’s like coming out of a closet. It’s like suddenly the whole world knows about your dirty little secrets.

And that’s okay:

In one of those dirty little secrets I found myself in a 24th floor hotel room in Toronto’s gay district, quite naked, having actual sex with a guy, surrounded by a bearded guy with a camera, a guy moving lights around and another guy who I mostly remember as being the one who supplied us with brownies in between takes. Occasionally, I heard the sound of a family with children passing down the hallway.

Earlier me, Guy #25 and the crew had passed the lobby with filming equipment in plain sight. I remember looking at the receptionist, realizing he knew exactly what I was about to do. This wasn’t the first time he had seen that bearded guy, the athletic guy carrying all the lighting equipment and a guy with brownies pass by, accompanied by two young men.

But in porn, making it past the lobby is only the easy part.

Doing porn is hard work. It was definitely a fun experience, but not much of a sexual one. Guy #25 wasn’t my lover. He was my colleague. There was never a moment I forgot I was part of a product.

Humanity consumes a lot of porn. I have a lot of respect for people who make porn for a living. I for one couldn’t imagine ever paying for porn these days. It’s like paying someone to press enter on your laptop.

If there’s one thing I regret, it’s that I didn’t make a better porn movie. The people I worked with were extremely professional, funny and comfortable to be around with. It just wasn’t the kind of movie I would ever watch myself. And till this day I haven’t, by the way.

DSC_0007 - Copy (2)

Maybe it’s my feminine side, but when I watch porn I am also in it for the story. Of course I know what will happen when two or more guys enter a ski cabin together, but still, the opening shots of them playing outside in the snow, having fun and joyfully throwing snow balls at each other makes for a nice back story. I wouldn’t mind being part of a group of gorgeous guys for a weekend in and around a remote ski cabin.

My back story was two guys enter a hotel room and have sex during a job interview, with the sound of a family with children in the background.

Had I felt as beautiful then as I do now, I would definitely have pursued my attempts at doing gay porn. But I would have aimed a little higher. I would have tried to make something I knew I’d enjoy watching myself.

That’s not to discredit the man with the beard, the lighting guy, the harbinger of glucose and least of all Guy #25, all of whom had passed the lobby boy dozens of time before me. People that have seen my movie generally consider Guy#25 hot. He wasn’t exactly my kind of hot, but he was very pleasantly professional. At one point in between takes he talked about how he had read on the internet that CERN in Switzerland was going to collide some particles that would create a black hole and suck up the Earth, sometime in 2015.
I like talking about quantum physics during sex.

The people I worked with all put a lot of effort into their work. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room full of work related people where everybody was so professional. There’s not much ego going around when there’s so much nakedness going on. These people create a product most of us want to see for free in ever increasing quantities. I met the lighting guy in one of Toronto’s shadier gay clubs one night. He complained about how nothing in the city excited him anymore. He said it, while in the background there were two guys on a stage engaging in not so tender foreplay.

To be honest, those two guys on that stage didn’t do anything for me either. It can be fun making the product, but you run the risk of overconsuming. In cities with gay districts, a lot of people overconsume on sex.

Guy #25 had made dozens of movies before me, as did everybody else in the room. He had a very good body, but I could tell he had consumed a lot of glucose for his age.

296334_261109590573880_6105372_n - Copy

I was glad I could put porn on my list of experiences, but I couldn’t imagine ever making a career out of it. It’s a lot of work for very little reward: Five hours of having sex under scorching lights when all you can think about is when you’re going to get your next brownie. It’s exhausting.

When someone writes you a check after you had sex with someone, you can’t help but feel a little bit like a prostitute. You just had sex for money after all. At the same time I also realized there would be a lot of people that would appreciate my product. Is it wrong to sell your sexuality if it empowers you somehow?

Or was I overconsuming?

 


 

 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 5 hours
FORMAT: Collegial
SEX SCORE (0 = 99 bottles of beer on the wall <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 5,5
HONORABLE MENTIONS: The man with the beard, the jaded lighting guy and the harbinger of glucose.

Guy #24 – What’s love got to do with it?

 

 


 

 

Over the years I’ve come to the conclusion there’s no such thing as just sex. I met some gay people who seem slightly offended when I suggest their latest dark room encounter has a lot of value for them somehow.

For some reason people have trouble embracing the fact that people you have sex with are meaningful.

Sure, I’ve had sex that felt meaningless and empty, but that didn’t make it less of an experience.
Of all the guys I’ve ever been with, Guy #24 is the one that came closest to being just sex.

He was my second audition.

I believe people who work in the porn industry are shamelessly underappreciated for their efforts. It requires a lot of concentration to play your part on Guy #24 when Guy #23 is lying in between your legs with his camera pointed upward.

Guy #24 was my dress rehearsal.

It did not go well.

I could go into detail about how things went down, but the jist of it is that I was strongly advised to take some Viagra on the actual set, which I would later found out was just another word for ‘hotel room’.

While I never regretted the experience, it did strike me how bad I was at sex when it was just about sex. It was weird to be intimate and professional at the same time.

At the time I wanted to believe just sex was a thing. I intensely enjoyed the lack of commitment I was feeling. I was quite literally like a bee hopping from flower to flower, in a city full of flowers.

About a week after my encounter with Guy #24 I spoke to the producer, Guy #23, on the phone. Guy #24 happened to be in the room with him and gave him on the phone, suggesting we had established some kind of bond or something. Our conversation was as short as it was awkward. It turned out that we had in fact made some kind of connection, but I wasn’t ready to accept the commitment attached to it.

25010_114186638599510_3805944_n

I think a lot of gay guys have this problem. It’s why they like to believe there is such a thing as just sex.

There isn’t. Not even when you’re doing porn.

 


 

 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: One audition
FORMAT: Test drive
SEX SCORE: (0 = Ann Coulter <–> 10 = The best sex ever): 4,5

Guy #23 – Chubby, bearded and oh so sweet…

 

 


 

 

Your sex life is a bit like a box of chocolates. You never know which one you’re gonna get. But you do know you want more, because chocolate just so happens to be addictive like nicotine.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Personally, I like experience in the broadest sense of the word. So whenever I have one piece of chocolate, I crave for more.

I spent the summer of 2009 in Toronto, Canada, the biggest box of chocolates I had ever seen. I wanted to use my time there to explore as much of my sexuality as humanly possible. Maybe it was greed, maybe it was lust, desire, curiosity, unresolved mother issues or all of the above, but for me the time had come to cross another boundary.

At 27 years of age I was still young. I feel prettier now than I did back then, but my reasoning at the time was that my beauty had already peaked. If I wanted to explore my own sexuality, the time was now, or so I figured.

So I auditioned for gay porn.

CAM00178 - Copy

Like many gay guys, I enjoy watching gay porn from time to time. As such, I’ve come to appreciate the efforts of gay porn stars, exposing their own sexuality for the world to see and admire. I reasoned that doing gay porn would be a nice way to ‘give’ something to the gay community, while at the same time using my own sexuality as an instrument of sorts. I enjoyed the thought of being in control of my sexuality.

For years at an end, my sexuality had been tied down, suppressed by a heterosexual dream I had chased for way too long. Now that I had finally and definitively shed myself of all the restraints I came to know and hate over the years I was ready to live.

To live.

So I auditioned for gay porn.

How does one audition for gay porn?

Well, one goes on Craigslist.

The rest pretty much came naturally. I responded to an ad asking for gay porn models by emailing a few selfies. I then received a phone call from someone asking me if I was absolutely sure I wanted my naked self on the internet for the entire duration of human civilization. After agreeing to that term I was invited to audition.

Technically speaking, Guy #23 and I never had sex. He never even touched me, not in a sexual way at least. Guy #23 was a producer and director of gay porn videos. I first met him in his apartment, where I had come to audition.

So how does one actually audition for gay porn?

Well, one unzips his pants and shows a porn producer one can obtain and maintain an erection in the absence of any sexual arousal.

I passed the test.

In fact, I passed all three tests. Guy #23 explained to me porn is about three things: Personality, looks and dick size. He mentioned them in that order, and rightfully so I might add.

During my audition, a friend and colleague of Guy #23 dropped by for a visit. I believe I wasn’t wearing everything when he came in. He modestly complimented what he was seeing and introduced himself as casually as if we had met on a company picnic. He would later tell me he spent his free time counseling people with HIV. It made me feel good I was going to do porn with people that were anything but heartless.

Guy #23 and I would become friends. He introduced me to stuff gays can do in big cities. I had never heard of the concept of a gay sauna until Guy #23 took me there one evening. And while Guy #23 and I never did anything sexual together, he was there during some of my most intimate moments. I had definitely crossed a boundary with him, but mostly it was nice having a chubby bearded French Canadian as a friend.

I once asked him if he liked his job. He had made hundreds of videos before me. I wondered how something like that would affect my own sex life. I always intended for porn to be a part of my sex life, not a part of my resume.
“I get jaded sometimes,” Guy #23 said.

I’d like to think he wasn’t jaded when he was working with me.

 


 

Relationship summary:

LENGTH: 3 months
FORMAT: Professional friendship
SEX SCORE: N/A