Andrew J on HIV

So here is where I get on my HIV soapbox. Every gay man should have one, and if he doesn't, he can borrow mine. Here goes.

HIV is here, it is real, it is uncurable, and it is scary. It's a bitch.

All through our teens and 20s, guys my age were bombarded with AIDS prevention messages. "Wear a condom", "practice safe sex" . It was part of the Lord's prayer, an unwritten 11th commandment. It was on cereal boxes. It was on our driver's test. And in our SAT prep material. Most of us came out of the closet with those messages playing in the background.

And we listened to them, no matter how much we despised them. We rolled our eyes at them, as they soon started sounding like tired old radio commercials. Not to mention they made the already uphill ordeal of coming out of the closet even more uphill.

On the flip side, the messages saved my generation from what our gay friends 10-15 years older than us had to deal with: we didn't watch our closest friends die of AIDS or go to hospitals and funerals on a weekly basis. To us, AIDS wasn't a mysterious illness first called 'gay cancer'. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like to be a gay man in his 40's or 50's today, during those dark, horrible years in the early and mid-eighties. Talk about heroes.

In my adult life, I have lost 2 close friends to AIDS. One in 1998, and one in 2002. Several of my friends currently live with HIV, and another is currently living in the valley of the shadow of AIDS. I have also watched with grief as a few of my friends recently sero-converted.

As far as I can tell, there are only 2 ways to get HIV: ignorance, and recklessness. The stories of many gay men who recently sero-converted seem to fall under the latter category. ("It was just once..."; "It must have happened when I was high"; "He was sooo hot"; "I didn't ask, I just figured he was negative..." ). I judge no-one, and think no less of anyone for a temporary lapse in judgement. Lord knows I've had them. I am merely striving to find a lesson for myself, and for anyone else who cares to listen, from the experiences of others.

And here's what I figure. The only way you can have lots of sex with lots of men is to play safe, and to keep it simple. And to stay informed and in control. Among my favorite sexual activities: kissing, touching, j/o. And of course, BJs. Since I enjoy watching cum spurt all over the place, I generally don't eat cum or cum inside anyone's mouth. Anal sex is on my list, but is very rare, and only with someone I've known long enough to trust them to be completely cool with condoms, particularly when we're in 'the moment'. 'The moment', when sexual passion and lust tend to impair judgement in the best of us. "Please, just this once, just to see how it feels?" No thanks, too slippery of a slope for me.

I am HIV negative. I am 'Poz friendly'. Like most citizens of San Francisco, I celebrate the rich heritage and diversity of our city, in which HIV/AIDS, and HIV-status diversity is a day-to-day reality. In particular, I am humbled by the strength of spirit of many people living with HIV, who, despite their personal battles, live exceptionally rich lives, and inspire me to embrace life, which, for a gay man, includes sex, and the realities of HIV.

Andrew strikes out tonight

But I did have a good time. I ran into several people I know, including Greg. He was with the most adorable guy so I didn't want to crowd their date. Anyways, we made quick plans to catch a movie on Sunday at the Film Festival, but didn't do our regular after-hours thing.
I got a lot of attention from couple of girls on the dance floor. Man I wish I was straight some nights. Anyways, this (getting more attention from girls than guys) has been happening a lot recently. Not sure why, but if it keeps up, I might have to find a different hairdresser, or try something different.
Oh well. More time to finish editing MESB Chapter 15.

ooohhh... MESB -The Final Chapter: Almost here!

Stay tuned folks, it'll be up in a couple of days. As usual, I'll be posting it on my blog here first and on nifty later.

Sucking cock wearing a bunny outfit

Sucking cock in a bunny outfit is easier done standing up than lying down. Especially if you're wearing floppy bunny ears, as they tend to get in the way. After the San Francisco Bunny Jam (an Easter tradition with the Burning man crowd), where 100s of people get dressed up in bunny costumes and dance all night to tweaky, cartoon music remixes, I found a bunny that would mate with me. He was hot. And so was I. Literally (my costume was mostly polyester).
Now I'm used to the sight of a pile of clothes at the foot of my bed in the morning... jeans, t-shirts, underwear, socks... hastily peeled off me and my partner's bodies during the night as things get going, but Easter Sunday morning was the first time I saw a pile of bunny outfits and rabbit-costume accessories (with two pairs of underwear at the top of the heap) in a pile at my bed. I wish I'd taken a picture.

Good-night kisses from Alan

Almost as soon as we sat down at our table last night, I started playing footsie with Alan. He's got nice, long legs that easily reach all the way to the other end of the table. Not to mention muscular legs... I see the way that boy trains at the gym! As I stared into his beautiful eyes, barely able to concentrate on what he was saying, all the time moving my foot over his, under the table. Atleast I thought it was his foot. And I thought we were playing footsie. The funny thing was, when he got up to go to the restroom, I still felt his 'foot' under the table.
Stupid table legs. They felt just like feet.
He burst out laughing when I told him.  And his goodnight kiss left me feeling like Liesl in the Sound of Music after they dance in thunderstorm in the gazebo.

Purple paisley boxers brighten my morning

So my morning brightened up when I saw this guy at the urinal beside me with the cutest boxers. they were blue with little purple paisleys on them. absolutely adorable. I've seen him around the office many times before. He'd just gotten into work and looked all squeaky clean.. ironed shirt, ironed khakis, and cute, clean, freshly laundered blue-purple boxers. I wonder what his boxers would look like if they were tented up from reading stories on nifty. mmmm...

San Francisco penguins & Stockholm penguins: dressed, undressing, and naked

After the concert on Monday, Philip and I went backstage to meet one of his friends.
We saw "Thank you for the Music", at Davies Symphony Hall a performance by the SF Gay Mens' Chorus and the visiting Stockholm Gay Mens' Chorus.
What an amazing evening. Philip is the perfect date and has so much class... the kind you want to take on a double date with your best friend, just to show off. Orchestra seats, a great wine selection during the intermission, and a really fun performance.
Anyways, backstage, we entered this huge gymnasium that was being used as a changeroom by the male performers. Wow, what a sight. We were surrounded by hundreds of gorgeous, hunky men in various states of undress (some still in their tuxedos, some in absolutely nothing, and everything in between). I was in heaven. I stood there, wide eyed... like a highschool kid, drooling at the visual extravaganza before me. It was like being a male penguin in the Antarctica during gay male penguin mating season!
Philip called me later that night to say good-night and that he missed me. It was very touching. I missed him too. And I make a mention of this just to prove that Andrew doesn't get laid every night. See?

A HARDCORE kisser

So I found out last Tuesday that Alan is a seriously hardcore  kisser. The kind that wants to kiss for 3 hours non-stop. THe kind of kisser that, even when you take a break, his mouth eagerly finds yours again before too long. The kind that kisses just as comfortably in a bar, fully clothed, at home fully clothed, or in bed, naked. The kind that doesn't stop even while taking off his clothes. And your clothes.

The kind where a sexual experience revolves around kissing, and all other activity is peripheral to your tongues exploring and the warmth of your lips up against one another's mouths. The kind where, after 3 hours of kissing, an orgasm seems irrelevant and unnecessary. Atleast until we get together again.

More Derek! Woo-hoo!

Yay! I just got assigned to work on a project with Derek. This is the best news I've had all week, and so far it's been a pretty good week. He just stopped by my desk to let me know. woo hoo! I'll be seeing a lot more of him... in his cute black dress pants being held at his trim waist with his black leather belt (with a shiny gold buckle), the fabric draped perfectly over his bubble-butt cheeks. And his dark blue dress shirt practically tailored to show off his buff chest and shoulders. And mostly his gorgeous, confident smile. Even at end of the day, when we're all tired and want to go home, his smile is still as solid and confident as ever.
I suppose I could write a nifty-style co-workers story about two guys going off to Denver on a business trip and having to share a room or something, but I won't. THis is too special.
Also, for those of you who are wondering, Derek is a boxers-guy.

MESB Chapter 14 is here!

I've finally gotten around to writing and publishing the much awaited 14th chapter of My Exhibitionist Straight Brother. Here it is:

My Exhibitionist Straight Brother - Chapter 14

In this chapter, our buddy and his boyfriend decide to clean up the apartment a little, starting with Dan's laundry...

 

"Hey! Dan was wearing these ones last night," Tom said, picking out a pair of blue CK hip briefs. "He looked really hot in them."

"No, those aren’t Dan’s. You were wearing those," I said. Then, picking up an identical pair of blue hip briefs, I added, "These ones were the ones Dan was wearing." Somehow, I could feel it...

 

As most of you know, I've been trying to end this story for some time now. But it's refusing to end. I think I love the characters in it too much to see them go away.

Let me know what you think. Feel free to email me or post comments here.

Great wine, great food and a sexy host

The party at Max's place (Max from last weekend's posting) was a blast... I had way more fun than I expected I would, considering it was mostly his co-workers and I don't work with him. He must have spent 4 hours cooking, and he shared some of his best wines with us. There were about 40 people there, mostly grad and postdoc students from UCSF. and boy they knew how to party. The crowd was mostly straight, but there were several gay people there.
I had a long conversation with a dorky but cute Australian guy who knew way more than I ever would about particle physics. Weed has that effect on people. I also met Louise, a frazzled woman who was on the verge of breaking up with her boyfriend and needed a shoulder to cry on. Luckily she had a spot staked out right near the wine table and kept my glass filled with the best stuff all evening. Then there was Darin, who kept going around cheersing people with "Happy Good Friday!" and "Happy Passover!" (Here's hoping the wine was kosher!)
When things started winding down I asked Max if he needed help cleaning up and should I stay. OK, I admit it, the only reason I wanted to stay was to get a piece of him. The only cleanup we ended up doing was wiping the spooge off our chests before we fell asleep, and once again early in the morning.

Spike Officer on Nifty!

Those of you into authoritarian stories definitely want to check this out:
Get a Grip, by Spike Officer
It was written by Spike Officer, a really good friend of mine here in San Francisco (and I just got permission from him to link to it from here). It's very well written, and is his virgin story on nifty.
Spike is an awesome guy, not to mention a sweetie and an absolute hottie. If you've ever been to the Mix or the Pilsner on a Sunday evening (and sometimes night and sometimes very late night), you might recall seeing/talking to 2 guys - one drinking Anchor Steam and the other drinking a Cape Cod. That was Spike O and Andrew J.

Drooling over muscle-daddies

Three of them. Hot, masculine, buzz-cut, construction-worker type muscle daddies. Yum. Two of them were in their 40's, and one looked like he was in his late 20's. They were sitting at the table beside me, talking about sports and cars and stuff. They were all wearing tight blue jeans, worn white near their crotch and knees, and t-shirts that had sports teams on them. When the younger one got up to go to the restroom, I saw his boxers sticking out above his jeans. They were white with yellow & blue stripes on them.

One of the guys had a baseball cap on. He looked like an older version of George Clooney. Nice chest, arms, and just the slightest beginnings of a belly. He was the quietest of the three. His chin was darkened by 4 o-clock shadow (this early in the day?!). His blue-grey eyes sparkled as he listened to his friends talk, periodically laughing and nodding at what they said.

I had the desperate urge to go over to George, sit on his lap, and lick the stubble on his face.

Making out in the sun with Alan

Yeah, hard to believe, huh? It was actually sunny here in San Francisco for a brief few hours on Sunday afternoon! I left the gym with Alan. He was the slender, well defined, hairy (but not too hairy), tall guy in the locker next to mine.I couldn't stop staring at his naked body as he changed out of his workout clothes. Fortunately for me , he was staring stared at me just as intently. When we got outside the gym we exchanged phone numbers and made plans for later on. He then casually put his arms around me and kissed me on the lips. Not just a quick kiss... but a long, wet, full mouth on mouth kiss that lasted several minutes.
Long enough for me to lean into his body. Long enough for both our dicks to get hard and for our growing bulges to press into each other and make full contact. Long enough for me to put my hands around his waist, under his t-shirt, and circle his taut, slender, smooth waist with my fingers.
We made out for a while on the sidewalk in front of the gym in the sun, oblivious to all the people walking by. And then a quick good-bye kiss turned into another make out session, and a third one turned into a third makeout sesion. He had to get home and finish his taxes so we didn't try for a fourth good-bye kiss.

Derek's blue sweater

"Andrew, could you get us some info on..."
Derek's (Remember Derek?) mouth was moving but I had no idea what he was saying.
On Tuesdays (like today) he trains early in the morning, and when he gets to work, his chest and shoulder muscles are all pumped up. Whenever possible I schedule meetings with Derek on Tuesday morning. He was wearing that blue v-neck sweater he looks so hot in. It's a thin, woolen form-fitting thing. It came down to just above his belt. A meetings he often leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head. When he did this today, the sweater rose above his pants, giving me a view of the t-shirt underneath. The t-shirt had blue and white horizontal stripes (it was adorable in a junior-high kind of way). It had come untucked precisely where it was exposed, but much to my dismay I couldn't see underneath it.
So Derek, I know I'll never get to go to bed with you, but perhaps you could lend me that sweater? I'd hold on to it all night like Linus holds his security blanket. I'd put it on my pillow and lay my head on it, and caress my cheek with it. I'll fall asleep feeling your gorgeous pecs and your abs and your biceps stretching the fabric of it... mmm....

2 PhD's in a single weekend?!?

This one definitely walked and talked the part. I didn't get to see him naked, since he had to work early the next morning, and then he had to fly back home. He was from one of my favorite cities in the world... Montreal. (514 meets 415, you gotta love it!)
He was tall, dark and handsome. He had a gorgeous, classy smile, perfect teeth, handsome features, a perfect posture, and a sparkle in his eye. Like there was always something going on in that beautiful mind of his.
He sipped his Perrier as I sipped my cocktail. Conversation with him was scintillating... almost like having sex. I felt that same satisfying glow the whole evening.
When he got up to leave, I told him he had a cute smile. He said thank you. Then he gave me his number, saying look him up next time I'm in Montreal.

Brains AND a cutiepie!

You couldn't tell he was a PhD from the way he talked or behaved or dressed. He was very cute. He wore distressed jeans, a brown t-shirt and a black fleece hoody. Dark brown hair, very short facial hair (more like stubble than a beard) and a bouncy walk. And he drank beer! (a rarity for a Castro Street boy!) He was the kind of guy that stopped to pet dogs that are out for a walk, or say hi to "kitty-cats" sitting on window sills.
In my mind I was busy petting him and saying "hi" to his kitty-cat all the way back to my flat. I was happily buzzed, and my cock was un-flaccid the entire way. Ever have that nice, warm, glowing sexual force field surround the head of your dick without actually being completely erect? You know what I mean!
Anyways, when we'd taken off our clothes and gotten under the covers and were both busy groping each other wildly, he said something very intelligent. Can't remember what it was (hey I'd been drinking, I admitted it!) but it was something that made me think wow he's got brains to go with that cute smile of his. Intelligence is a major turn on for me. I don't actively seek it out but when a guy has both brains and a cute face, I'm in heaven. Which is where I stayed the entire night. He was a great kisser... nice, wet, sloppy, slobbery french kisses. His hands were soft, and his toes were warm (unlike mine: always freezing!) as they played footsie with mine.
The next morning (Sunday), I took him to the local coffee shop around the corner for coffee. For two reasons: one to enjoy more of his conversation, and two to give the gals there something to talk about ("OMG, did you see that cutiepie Andrew was with last night?"). He was indeed a PhD, and in Physics at that. What a hard major! His eyes lit up every time you asked him something about science (which I rarely talk about when I am drinking, or even otherwise).
In any case, he had all my electro-magnetic circuits fired up!

New Story: Eric and Dave on Vacation

Our 2 straight jock buddies Eric and Dave are back... and on vacation with their girlfriends in Mexico.
Click here for the story "Eric and Dave on Vacation"
Find out what happens when the four of them share a suite at a sunny beach resort.
Here's the original story I posted in January on Nifty: Straight Jock Foot Massage
Enjoy! And of course, let me know what you think. Either email me directly or post a comment here.

Greg & the after-hours scene...

On occasional Friday nights I hang out with my good buddy Greg. Greg is one of the most masculine gay guys you'll meet in this city. He tinkers with cars, drives a restored classic, is a handyman by nature, and loves alternative music. He's got really cute puppy-dog brown eyes and a sweet smile. He's exactly my height, and built nicely. And the way his ass and legs fit in his jeans makes me drool.

We both share a love for the Friday night after-hours scene, and we're both hot for each other. We usually meet up around midnight, hit a few clubs, ending up at the Endup, dancing our asses off, and then at around 4:30 AM we hit a diner for the inevitable cheeseburger and fries.

Then, if I'm lucky, we have sex. Greg and I have great chemistry together in bed. We have a great connection, and sleep well together. When I left his apartment on Saturday at noon I promised myself I'd call him more often.

gin & tonics and drag shows

I saw Keith perform in a Drag Show on Tuesday night. He makes a very beautiful woman. She's short and feisty, has great hair and wears gorgeous outfits. Her camp is excessive and her makeup is understated. Of course, I've seen her several times out of drag, and out of clothes all together, and the thought that if she's free after the show I might be able to get her to come over to my place keeps me going to her shows.

The floor was jam packed with drag queens, very masculine men and a few guys in between. (What is it about drag shows that brings out the raw masculine side of the average gay guy... myself included?). Her number was a hit.... Lots of laughs, cat calls (which is a compliment to a drag queen), and lots of cute stud-boy groupies hanging around her afterwards. On performance nights she usually doesn't have time for me. I totally understand this. I did manage to buy her a drink (she loves her gin & tonics!) and give her a kiss, without touching of course. She promised me a date for later on in the week.

I went home alone, and couldn't sleep. I got online and was trying to figure out more about configuring blog settings, when my cell phone rang.

"Hey Keith, Of course you can come over. I'd LOVE that, stud-boy!"

Instant hard-on inducing words. Woo-hoo!

What a hot ass!

Not sure what it was about it, just the way the two cheeks filled his jeans so nicely. the two mounds just jutted perfectly in two small hillocks under his jeans. His jeans weren't tight-fitting, so his cheeks were spaced apart, not jammed together. He was wearing a ribbed white cotton turtleneck that came down to just below his beltline. As he stepped forward, his ass cheeks flexed gently. My mouth watered as I stood behind him in line. If he hadn't looked like the type that would have kicked this shit out of me if I'd gotten it wrong, I would have slipped him my number. Instead, I just went back to reading the magazines on the rack.

Did my dick look good in wet underwear?

Very few guys look really good in wet underwear. Not all of us can pull it off. First, you've got to have a hotter than average body, nice flat abs, and most of all, a big cock. Not just long (which, in itself is very important), but it has to be thick, have a smooth, straight shaft, and have a really well-defined head. And it helps to be cut. Nice big balls are a plus but by no means a show-stopper. And your cock has to be 'well-behaved', i.e. it can't randomly jerk around when it's hard. It has to stay put and stay hard as it leans to the side 'just so'.

I am reminded of Labor Day weekend a few years ago, when I was in the wet underwear contest at Rage. I was too drunk to know or remember if I looked any good. I didn't win a prize, but I do remember a lot of guys shouting and clapping, and several guys buying me drinks afterwards.

Naked on the dance floor

Practically naked, anyways. Hundreds of sweating, buff, gym-toned gay guys dancing all night to the best dance music in the city, in nothing but their underwear. What a party.
Yeah, I was one of them. I saw a bunch of guys I knew from the gym and the other clubs, which was nice, but what was better was the new friends I made. Well, I suppose you could call them 'friends'. Lotsa love. lots n lotsa love. Ken was the best. I felt overdressed in my white low-rise hot shorts, compared to his briefs: these really cute ultra-lowrise mesh things that were mostly transparent except for the front pouch. Mind you, every time he got hard (which was pretty much every time I did, which was very often), his cock leaned sideways, and the head and most of the shaft was only covered by mesh. It was so adorable. He was a hot dancer, and our moves were totally in sync. The guys on the floor loved us.