Going Deep: A Gay Guide to Reality
Going Deep: A Gay Guide to Reality

Going Deep: A Gay Guide to Reality

Mike Gerle

Overview
Episodes

Details

A retired WeHo gay exploring the correlation between sex and meaning.

mikegerle.substack.com

Recent Episodes

The Disorienting Silence Of No Drama
MAY 16, 2024
The Disorienting Silence Of No Drama
<p>This post is sexually explicit and very AIDS-y. Two states older gay men know well. Those adhering to the <a target="_blank" href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/p/the-standard-narrative">standard narrative</a> I wrote about in my last post will find this content disquieting. </p><p>So, with that warning, here goes.   </p><p>*</p><p>A few months ago, on my knees, among hundreds of bodies writhing around me, a cock in my mouth exploded with a rare load in the G-dosed molly-spiked energy of a dance party dark room. I looked up and smiled with gratitude at the guy, who nodded down at me with a satisfied grin. </p><p>No thoughts of death or disease, just the pure ecstasy of pleasure. </p><p>No awkward whispers of HIV status. No recent funerals. No belongings to sift through. No forever friends with months, weeks, or days to live. No wondering who will die next. No wondering if it will be me. </p><p>Just raw pleasure thanks to drugs that now shield us from transmission–from drama. </p><p>And as I make my way back to the main party, it hits me that this is it. This is as good as the celebration of the end of the plague is going to get: a gaping void of drama. </p><p>It makes me wonder if my nightmare memories are true. </p><p>Did a male nurse sit across from me in the San Diego County Health Office in 1986 and tell me that I had less than eighteen months to live and I most likely would not see the age of 23? </p><p>That same year, did a scumbag named <a target="_blank" href="https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1986-09-17-mn-10528-story.html">Lyndon H. LaRouche get Proposition 64</a> on the California ballot that would have placed HIV+ people into concentration camps? </p><p>Did my best friend Alvin die the next year? Did I give my first eulogy at 22?</p><p>Was I getting bloodwork done every three months, for free, at the Edelman clinic in West Hollywood, where the new library is now? In 1991, did tears steam down my face when I looked at my chart and saw that my T-cells were about to fall below 200, the point at which all the opportunistic infections that pave the way to death begin? </p><p>Was I the only one there to take care of my boyfriend <a target="_blank" href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/p/world-aids-day-remembering-tony?utm_source=publication-search">Tony</a> until he died because his parents couldn’t cope with finding out their son was gay and had AIDS all at the same time? </p><p>Did I give my second eulogy at 26 on the baseball diamond of Poinsettia Park without their permission after Tony died? </p><p>Did I hook up with a guy, use a condom to fuck him, and then a few days later see him on the street in front of the parking garage where I work when he asked casually, “You’re negative, right?” </p><p>Did that happen again with another guy, in bed, right AFTER sex? </p><p>Was there a constant debate about who should disclose first? The negative guys thought it should be the positive guys. After all, they had the deadly concealed weapon. The positive guys thought it should be the negative guys. Hey, you guys have the most to lose. I was always honest, always used a condom, and thought the person who cared the most should start the boner-killing conversation. </p><p>Did I start having sex exclusively with HIV+ guys because of all that drama and the weight of possibly infecting someone else? </p><p>Yes! The drumbeat of AIDS-driven fear was ever present. </p><p>Like, when two guys with British accents took me into one of the cock sucking booths at the Zone sex club in Los Angeles. The sexual heat between the three of us was fierce, and I loved that they took turns using my ass. I’m still perplexed by the look on one of their young faces after he came. It turns out he wasn’t wearing a condom. His load was inside me. Was that an expression of guilt, fear, shame, or something else? It certainly wasn’t ecstasy. </p><p>For those of us who were positive, the drumbeat pounded like a metronome: every three months, bloodwork, results, doctor visit, repeat – bloodwork, results, doctor visit, repeat.  </p><p>The guys who were HIV-negative got tested when they thought they should. Having a negative result was a reprieve, tempting these men to stretch the time to the next test when the ax might fall. </p><p>Finding ways to get off with another guy without causing more death led to lots of jerking each other off, in-person voyeurism, and dry humping. </p><p>Eros and death were constant companions. </p><p>Finally, a rich and famous straight guy named Magic Johnson was infected and was willing to talk about it. This normalized the disease enough for non-gays to start understanding. “Oh, you have what Magic has,” is what a friend of mine reported his brother saying. </p><p>Magic is how my husband, who’s almost 17 years younger than me and was born the same year AIDS was identified, learned about HIV. Hiding in his parents' room, he watched a <a target="_blank" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pM4cVKenA8">kid's show hosting Magic Johnson</a>. </p><p>Going to funerals became a regular occurrence for everyone affected by the plague, HIV+, HIV-, gay, lesbian, and straight. No one was spared the losses. </p><p>“What do you think when you’re having sex with a guy you haven’t talked about HIV with?” I asked my brutally honest HIV- best friend. </p><p>“Are you Satan?” was his honest answer. </p><p>So, what do you think about me? I thought. </p><p>In places like Los Angeles, positive guys started having their own sex parties. I visited the Downey Boys party, where I met my first “<a target="_blank" href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/17166076/#:~:text=%22Bug%20chasing%22%20and%20%22gift,the%20prevalence%20of%20this%20phenomenon.">bug chaser</a>.” He was a negative guy who was so stressed about becoming HIV+ that he wanted to force his seroconversion. </p><p>Even on the <a target="_blank" href="https://www.imrl.com/">International Mister Leather</a> convention floor, arguably one of the most sex-positive spaces in the United States, bareback porn exhibitors were banned. The wails of drama surrounding that decision are legendary. </p><p>First, there was no treatment for the disease, and then AZT, Saquinavir, Viramune, Combivir, Crixivan, and others came out. Some needed to be taken every four hours, some with food, some without food. AZT made my mouth taste like metal all the time, and Crixivan made my urine thick and burn. </p><p>Finally, the “drug cocktail” came out. One pill, twice a day, that didn’t make my dick burn. </p><p>And very quietly, everyone stopped dying. </p><p>“I wonder what everyone’s going to do when we finally have a cure?” I said to my sober HIV+ friend Randy over brunch with six other gays. “Can you imagine the party we’re going to have?” </p><p>He leaned across the table and said in a whisper, “It’s already here.” </p><p>He was right, but it was still easy to get infected. </p><p>And then, <a target="_blank" href="https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/prevention/prep.html?CDC_AAref_Val=https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/basics/prep.html">PrEP</a> (pre-exposure prophylactic) came out. An HIV- guy could take one pill a day that was more effective than a condom at stopping the transmission of HIV. </p><p>Then we found out that guys with an undetectable viral load do not shed the virus. It was dubbed <a target="_blank" href="https://www.niaid.nih.gov/diseases-conditions/treatment-prevention">U=U</a> (undetectable equals untransmittable). Which was a bit irritating to me because I’d been undetectable for at least five years by the time that information was made available. </p><p>I had been less of a poria than I thought. </p><p>The final drama tsunami came from Michael Weinstein, who ran and still runs the AIDS Healthcare Foundation (AHF). He called PrEP a party drug. <a target="_blank" href="https://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/17/upshot/aids-group-wages-lonely-fight-against-pill-to-prevent-hiv.html">He said it was dangerous and a lot of other nonsense</a>. The man just hates sex, finds delight in curtailing it, and worries PrEP will both encourage sex and lower his client base.  </p><p>Some gays had a religious-like attachment to condoms. It was a price we paid to show our love for our brothers, they explained. To them, having condomless sex was an insult to our community. It was impossible for them to grasp a new reality where pre-AIDS era gay sex could once again be enjoyed. </p><p>But the new reality played itself out with real-life data. The pages and pages of obituaries in <a target="_blank" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frontiers_(magazine)">Frontiers Magazine</a> (essentially the gay press in Los Angeles) were gone from the bi-weekly publication. And once the obituaries where gone, so were the condoms. </p><p>We let Michael Weinstein and the condom worshipers talk themselves out, and about a year later, their tsunami of drama fell to a whimper. </p><p>And then…</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Like having my windows open as my next-door neighbor's leaf blower groans away, I became so accustomed to the loud drama that when it was turned off, the silence was deafening. </p><p>Like AIDS deaths and all the drama that came with it, never happened. </p><p>To add a sexual cherry on top of this good news, we now have a drug protocol based on how gay men actually fuck, which is a lot, for preventing most of the other sexually transmitted infections PrEP doesn’t prevent. <a target="_blank" href="https://howardbrown.org/service/doxypep/">DoxyPEP</a> uses an antibiotic that’s been around for ages to minimize the transmission of common STIs. </p><p>So now, the only reason for a person to hate sex for pleasure is because a person finds pleasure in hating sex. </p><p>See the <a target="_blank" href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/p/the-standard-narrative">Standard Narrative</a>. </p><p>So now what? </p><p>First, we need to repair the damage done to our sex spaces. Let’s look at those laws still on the books requiring owners of sex establishments to go around with flashlights checking guys fucking in their venue's dark rooms, steam rooms, and rooms that aren’t allowed to lock, making sure cocks going into buttholes have condoms on them. </p><p>While we are at it, let’s make these sex spaces communal gathering spaces for gay men. Let’s follow the European model of bathhouses where a gay can get off, then talk about it over drinks and dinner in the same venue. Let’s allow them to offer spa-like services like massage. </p><p>These arcane rules in our liberal cities, such as Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York, need to be changed. In my post, <a target="_blank" href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/p/feeling-sexy-and-socially-homeless">Feeling Sexy and Socially Homeless</a>, I argue that these spaces not only give us orgasms, but they also give us a sense of purpose and meaning, two perceptions of reality that actually lengthen our lifespans.  </p><p>But we can’t do that until we believe we deserve a place to be who and what we are. </p><p>What will it take for us to believe that? </p><p>What will it take to break the silence? </p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_2">mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe</a>
play-circle
13 MIN
What Really Happens on a Gay Cruise?
APR 18, 2024
What Really Happens on a Gay Cruise?
<p>“Hey! It’s you guys. I didn’t know you’d be on the ship!”  </p><p>It takes me two full seconds to recognize the tall, lean Italian with dark eyes and grey-speckled beard stubble before a surge of joy-filled love overtakes me. I embrace him with one arm and squeeze my husband’s wrist in the elevator bay crowded with men in costumes. </p><p>“Dennis! Look who it is!” </p><p>We are taking a bathroom break during the first themed dance party of the seven-day March 2024 Atlantis Events (99% gay) cruise on the Valiant Lady, a Virgin Voyages ship that left from and will return to San Juan, Puerto Rico. </p><p>The theme of tonight’s dance party is “Tropical Heat,” we are wearing black lines of “warrior paint” on our faces, red headbands, red tights, and the one pair of black Adidas sneakers that will need to support every activity this week. </p><p>“Oh, my gawd! It is so good to see you!” says Dennis, squeezing through the crowd to give him a full-bodied hug. </p><p>We met this man and his beautiful husband precisely three years ago on this same ship in the Mediterranean, out of Barcelona. Our connection on the dance floor translated into two memorable visits to our private stateroom with the four of us. It was a connection unlike most of the others because of its effortless blend of intense erotic pleasure and sensitive, emotional openness. I was genuinely sad when we said goodbye in the galley food area on the last day of that cruise in 2021. </p><p>This is what keeps us coming back. Freedom. Joy. Sex. But mostly, love. </p><p>These cruises provide what is no longer offered on land (in the United States): a 24/7 space dedicated to gay men’s comfort and delight for all ages and body types. </p><p>This is my seventh cruise with Atlantis, and I’ve learned that the cornucopia of activities available makes it possible for every kind of gay, no matter his age, body type, activity interests, or cultural inclinations, to have a blissful journey. </p><p>These cruises have something for every kind of gay. </p><p>* Circut Party Gays </p><p>* His body and wardrobe are maximized for dancefloor impact. </p><p>* Wearing either a minimal thong & face full of glitter, or a full-blown themed group costume with yards of fabric blowing in the sea air, posing for a group photo. </p><p>* Often embodied in one of the most objectively beautiful physiques on the ship. </p><p>* Pupils dilated, he sometimes never sees the light of day. </p><p>* He emerges after dark, is at least an hour late to the party, and routinely closes down the after-party at 6:30 AM.</p><p>* Standard Narrative Gays</p><p>* Wearing the latest short-sleeved button-down shirt from <a target="_blank" href="https://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/589?page=mens-shirts&#38;csp=f&#38;bc=12-26&#38;gnrefine=1*SLV_LNGTH*Short-Sleeve&#38;sort_field=relevance&#38;start=1&#38;viewCount=48&#38;nav=gnro-516673">L.L. Bean</a>. </p><p>* They are having the cruise your mom might have.</p><p>* They have booked as many excursions off the ship as possible.</p><p>* Discussion about open relationships never happened before the cruise, and they’d prefer that other gays stop bringing it up.</p><p>* Alcohol is the only acceptable drug, and there is always a drink in their hand.</p><p>* They have a persistent neurotic expression, asking, “What if pics of this get out?” </p><p>* Old Gays </p><p>* Wearing whatever the fuck they want, which is either complete comfort or full fabulous. </p><p>* These men are genuinely happy to be alive and willing to engage with anyone who makes eye contact. </p><p>* They make eye contact.  </p><p>* Many are up early, enjoying the sunrise.</p><p>* The oldest (I chatted up a 92-year-old) get decked out in the party themes of red, white, pink, etc. Find a seat overlooking the dance floor and remain transfixed for hours, chatting with the oldster beside him as the Virgin staff keep them hydrated. </p><p>* Sluty Gays</p><p>* Wearing their best guy-getting gear. Often in <a target="_blank" href="https://www.st33lebrand.com/collections/mens-shorts?page=2">St33le</a> shorts. </p><p>* Looking for every opportunity to suck it, stick it in, or receive. </p><p>* Down Low (DL) sluts project all their assets: butts out on the dance floor, styled super sexy on the pool deck, etc., but need to be out of sight of their friends to “go downstairs.” </p><p>* Open sluts, wearing something similar, will make offers and respond to sexual proposals casually, without shame. </p><p>* Guys in Slut Mode stalk the dick deck (a part of the ship designated for anonymous sex), know the good bathrooms for hook-ups, and are always ready to “go downstairs.”</p><p>* Sober Gays</p><p>* They show up to the party ready to engage (dance, hookup, whatever) without needing their drugs to kick in.  </p><p>* They are at the dance parties early and seldom see the sun come up. </p><p>* Their erections are much more predictable than dosing Circut Gays and drunk Standard Narrative Gays. </p><p>* Their conversations are much easier to follow. </p><p>* They have Bill W. meetings to assist with cruise overwhelm. </p><p>* Twink Gays</p><p>* Rare, but there.</p><p>* Cruises take money and planning. Both are rare attributes of youth. </p><p>* Often part of a red state May/December coupling.</p><p>* Free agent twinks also appear to be seasoned circuit party raver types. </p><p>* They are thoroughly informed on party protocol but still new to the planet, so what you see is usually what you get. </p><p>* Foodie & Spa Gays</p><p>* The food on this ship, in particular, is varied and impressive. On other ships, it has tasted like a bland mall food court buffet. Virgin Atlantic attracts men with sensitive pallets and inspires food simpletons like me to humbly bow in the direction of the chef. </p><p>* The spa is an oasis within the oasis of the ship. An oasis from complementing clever outfits, commenting on the music, or sharing your plans for the evening.</p><p>* Show Girl Gays</p><p>* These cruises deliver what every audience member anywhere has ever wanted. They make you laugh, they make you cry, and they make your dick hard.</p><p>* These gays plan their day around the show. Dinner, a party, or a hookup must accommodate getting the best seat at the show.  </p><p>I’ve done Atlantis cruises as a Slutty/Sober/Circuitish/Show-Girl-Gay. </p><p>On this cruise, I was mainly a Circuit/Sluty/Foddie/Spa-Gay who took advantage of the excellent room service options available 24/7. We only got off the ship once, for 45 minutes, to get shaving cream. </p><p>There is so much we didn’t see. </p><p>We planned our week's agenda to accommodate three nights of intense partying. All three party nights were followed by a day at the spa, dinner, and sometimes a show. </p><p>That was my cruise. </p><p>Here’s my advice: Have the cruise YOU want. No one is preventing you from doing that except for YOU. You are not required to attend anything, but everything is there if you want to taste the buffet. </p><p>The only thing you can NOT do, is do it ALL. </p><p>Make conscious choices, and you’ll be one of the men who crowd into the elevator on your way to your next pleasure with a smile on your face, sharing a silent nod of satisfaction with guys looking back at you who’d never look up from their phones on land. </p><p>The ship is a magical, ephemeral space that lasts only a week (or a bit longer), where being a gay man is the norm, and straight people are there to serve you. Shared conversations occur between all types at dinner, the pool, after the show, and during parties. </p><p>Are there some men shut down by fear & trauma and unable to communicate? Yes. Have compassion for their internal turmoil (regardless of how pretty or plain they are) and turn to one of the thousands of other men ready to embrace you. </p><p>It’s great practice for “real life.” </p><p>I’m glad I chose to dance with the men in front of me, ready to embrace me, rather than chase the ones I thought had the most social status because of their beauty. I made a conscious effort to refrain from trying to <a target="_blank" href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/p/winning-the-party-6a9?utm_source=publication-search">win the party</a>. I’ve made the opposite choice enough times to know that kind of grasping causes me pain. </p><p>Ironically, not trying to win the party, brought some underwear model specimens toward me for a few euphoric genuflections to <a target="_blank" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eros">Eros</a>, giving thanks for our shared virility and their youthful innocence. It also brought me into communion with a pair of men, one 50 and the other 70. A couple I spent hours with celebrating the company of <a target="_blank" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dionysus">Dyonisis</a>, allowing the wisdom of many years on the planet to inform the sweetness of the moment born from the light and shadow of life. Who, in addition to enjoying the passions of love and sex, were able to hold space for insanity and the ritual madness of our gay past the youth will hopefully never really know. </p><p>So much is possible. </p><p>Or maybe you’re more of a champagne brunch, drag queen, bingo kinda gay.  </p><p>Please sit down your coffee, hold my hand, and tell me all about it as the pink of the sunrise reflects off my tights, announcing the close of last night’s white party and the beginning of another day full of possibility. </p><p></p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_2">mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe</a>
play-circle
12 MIN
One Bag Of Bones At A Time.
APR 8, 2024
One Bag Of Bones At A Time.
<p>Easy to say. </p><p>“You’re perfect.” </p><p>“I see you as perfect.” </p><p>All you need to do is let go of all the thoughts, beliefs, emotions, mental constructs, advertisements, comparisons on social media, and the tap tap tap of that nagging voice that says, “Don’t fall behind. You can still catch up. You can still win!” </p><p>Just follow your breath. </p><p>Well, notice it first. </p><p>Can you? </p><p>That thing you do every moment of every day. That very first thing you did when you slipped wet and cold into existence. That thing that will be the very last thing you do before it all ends or you move on to another plane of existence. That thing my father’s body tried to do even after he’d died. </p><p>“Be here now.” Thanks, <a target="_blank" href="https://www.ramdass.org/">Ram Das</a>. But how do we do that without trying? How do we try without judgment? </p><p>How do we believe it’s okay to see ourselves as whole and happy? Unbroken. </p><p>If I’m not seeking “healing” what is there left to do? </p><p>Without trauma, addiction, and neurotic narcissism, what do I do with my day? </p><p>Who will understand what I’m talking about? </p><p>Unbroken. Whole. Complete. </p><p>The <a target="_blank" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zE7PKRjrid4">red pill or the blue pill</a>? Which one is the true fantasy? </p><p>The earth, the moon, the stars. The sun that will be eclipsed by the moon today over North America. The galaxies, and clusters, and all the <a target="_blank" href="https://www.bbcearth.com/news/why-is-95-of-the-universe-missing">missing matter</a> our current comprehension of math can’t explain. </p><p>Without a creation myth, how do I cope with consciousness? To know I am, but little else? </p><p>It’s not reason or math or science or myth that will bring peace. </p><p>It’s faith. It’s jumping into the unknown, the unreasonable idea that I’m good and complete no matter what the other bags of muscle and bone and emotions helplessly tell me and sell me. Forgive their ignorance and my complicity. </p><p>It’s an inside job. </p><p>One bag of bones at a time. </p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_2">mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe</a>
play-circle
3 MIN
An Opening of the Raw Self
FEB 29, 2024
An Opening of the Raw Self
<p>Just feelings. That’s what this week is about. </p><p>Preparing for an ayahuasca plant ceremony is an opening of the raw self. </p><p>It’s day 6 of taking away most of the things that help me avoid feelings. Coffee, weed, alcohol, refined sugar, red meat, lots of other things… and, wait for it, ejaculation! Yup. </p><p>Just sit there and take it bitch! </p><p>Worried about your substack, your husband’s struggles, your relevance in gay men’s culture, your mom’s reality without your dad, your other mom’s torments, your sister’s well-being, your health, turning 59, your motorcycle’s dead battery, that pain in your lower back? </p><p>Just frackin feel it! </p><p>Being present is no longer masked by distractions; it’s full presence, moment to moment to moment. I’ve even taken the suggestion of staying off social media, well, except Grindr. Is that a social app? Sure. Look at all those bodies and be a tease, “Not today, sorry.” </p><p>What’s left is, well, everything. ALL the feelings. This is what it is to be human, buddy. </p><p>Is this what it felt like to be a hunter-gatherer? Before tech and know-how brought us all the fat, meat, and sugar we wanted? Tears of joy and grief while digging in the garden? Well, I guess they didn’t have gardens. They were on the move. </p><p>But they were tied to the earth. </p><p>And being tied to the earth is why I’m going back. That’s why I’m doing my third plant ceremony. After experiencing a mushroom ceremony, I learned about an ayahuasca ceremony in my new neighborhood, on the same communal soil where I bought a condo two years ago, the same neighborhood where I have always hung out with leathermen. </p><p>Pacha mama. Mother earth. During the last ceremony, I met You for the first time. </p><p>The morning after, in the cool, bright morning Silver Lake air, I touched the bark of a tree growing near a 1920s building. It spoke to me. Much clearer than any wonky telepathic crap Counclor Diana Troy ever used on Star Trek The Next Generation, I was, and still am, connected to everything the tree is connected to. Words fail. But let me try. The expanse of an all-knowingness, a knowingness that is experiential, not intellectual. The tree, the earth, the water in the sky and the seas, each heartbeat in Silver Lake and all those around the world, each being that moves, and all those that grow, and all the essence of earth and sun and stars that have brought us into being. I touched it. It touched me back, and there was no longer a separation between any of us. </p><p>Oneness with everything. </p><p>A sustained joy bursting from inside me and holding me safe all at the same time. </p><p>I guess that’s worth skipping coffee and ejaculation for a week or two. </p><p></p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_2">mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe</a>
play-circle
3 MIN
Beyond Sport F*cking
FEB 2, 2024
Beyond Sport F*cking
<p>Moments after the door to my condo closed behind us, the stranger I’d cruised on the subway locked his mouth on mine. I eagerly accepted. The tension of 30+ minutes of eyeing each other in the train car, up the escalators, down Sunset Blvd., to this moment, piqued our primal need to engage. </p><p>He pulled at the bottom of his shirt.  </p><p>I leaned away from kissing his scruffy face and said, “Hold on, can I get that for you?” and I slowly pulled his shirt up, revealing his bare skin, happy trail, belly button, chest, nipples, and finally, his masculine shoulders. The inside-out collar of thin cotton material moved up his throat while the bulk of the shirt acted as a temporary blindfold. As the shirt released from his head, I looked into his eager eyes – the t-shirt hanging relaxed in my hand. </p><p>“Your turn,” I said. “Take your time.” </p><p><strong>Rather than ignoring all this erotic energy and racing towards orgasm with the intensity of an Olympic sprinter, I’ve learned to lean into erotic tension and savor its rare pleasures. </strong></p><p>This is a departure from the avid <a target="_blank" href="https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Sport%20Fucking">Sport Fucker</a> practice I once thought was the height of sexual pleasure and liberation. </p><p>Sport Fucking is about having sex for its own sake. Keeping a score sheet (even if it’s just in one’s head) of the numbers, variety, and status of sex partners is what it’s all about. Commitment and emotional depth are not part of the practice. An ass up, no talking, jackhammer fuck n’ go is its hallmark protocol. </p><p>It allows us to protest against the heteronormative standard narrative: All sex outside of a monogamous relationship is bad. </p><p>It also satisfies our need to seed, and be seeded by, as many individuals as possible. <a target="_blank" href="https://www.salon.com/2010/06/27/sex_at_dawn_interview/">Sperm competition</a>, as outlined in the book <em>Sex At Dawn</em> by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá, provides evidence that our genes are programmed to both give and receive as much sperm as possible. The one who gives or receives the most wins the genetic prize. </p><p>Sport Fucking is still in my sexual repertoire, but it is only one musical genre with which to play the music. Sometimes, I want a nasty two-minute <a target="_blank" href="https://open.spotify.com/track/0P4Te8j7vGE8A4GUPLcD6f?si=d6a19884aab54f25">country tune by Dixon Dallas</a>: “No strings attached, I’ll arch my back and let you do what you want.” At other times, I want an hour-long <a target="_blank" href="https://soundcloud.com/anjunadeep/the-anjunadeep-edition-434?si=e822b06f2a7341548b509eac316d7e92&#38;utm_source=clipboard&#38;utm_medium=text&#38;utm_campaign=social_sharing#t=12%3A25">Deep House Anjunadeep Edition 434 with Marsh</a> DJ session: “Reach inside me. Gonna take my love in,” that transports us on a multilayered sensory/emotional/spiritual journey. </p><p>Each encounter is usually a variation that mixes a bit from each style, depending on my partner’s proclivities and how our energies mix.</p><p><strong>If I’d taken this guy to a stairwell to seal the deal, a long, drawn-out connection wouldn’t have been practical. But we were in my place, and I had more than two minutes. </strong></p><p>Until the moment his shirt came off, and I felt the heat radiating from his torso, my attraction to this guy was almost entirely visual. It was tied to what he was wearing, especially his grey sweatpants and the shape of the underwear seams framing his butt cheeks as he shifted his weight, side to side, only one escalator step ahead of me on the long ride up and out of the deep Sunset-Vermont subway station, my heart pounding all the way. </p><p>I was returning home from my workout, where I’d seen lots of Hollywood hotties dressed in their best gym gear hugging all the right places oh so coyly, never to be touched. (Well, not <em>never</em>, but that’s another post.) </p><p>This was an opportunity to actually touch, smell, and taste the tantalizing essence that is usually off-limits. </p><p>Why throw all that on the floor? </p><p>Both shirtless, we moved to the playroom.</p><p>It had become clear to me during our makeout session, while my hands massaged the raised underwear seams through his sweats, that he preferred to let me take charge. </p><p>I didn’t let that stop me from dropping to my knees to explore the cause of a raging boner still inside my jeans. </p><p>As an aside, for a long time, I lived with a made-up rule that tops don’t kneel for their partners – that maintaining dominance requires <em>insertive</em>, <em>taking </em>energy only. I was wrong about that, especially the kneeling part. Down on my knees, there is a lot of pleasure to give by <a target="_blank" href="https://www.schoolofconsent.org/downloads">actively taking what he generously allowed</a>. </p><p><strong>Undressing a man slowly, like the beautifully wrapped gift that he is, moves that spark of erotic energy up and into every power zone of your body. </strong>Without an immediate release (a quick orgasm), the energy expands its way from that space between your balls and your butthole, through your gut, your heart, your throat, your mind, and out into the Universe. The vibrational energies of your whole self, the energies that the Great Yoga Sages called the seven <a target="_blank" href="https://www.arhantayoga.org/blog/7-chakras-introduction-energy-centers-effect/">chakras</a>, become available mojo for your eventual climax. </p><p>Dipping my fingers between the cotton waistband of his sweatpants and the formfitting elastic of his briefs, nuzzling the swollen mound straining the fabric beneath his sweatpants, looking up to see how this is being received via his eyes, expressing gratitude in mine, inching the sweats down to reveal his previously hidden tight undies, feeling the heat of his contained junk that had been walking down the street with me, now pressing on my nose and cheeks, smelling the epicenter of his pheromone production, allowing the sweatpants to gather at his feet, fanning anticipation by leaving his underwear on, overtly looking him up and down, from his bright brown eyes to his pants that are now a heap around his ankles. </p><p>Pro Tip: To remove his pants with just two sweeping motions, I find the leg opening behind one heel, allow him to shift his weight to the other foot, and pull on the seam of the leg opening. Most pants will easily slide off one leg at a time. This avoids the struggle of pulling the pants at the waist and having them turn inside out, causing awkward logistics that break the sultry trance. </p><p>“Your turn,” I said.  </p><p><strong>Whatever we do next will be charged with intimacy and understanding, which clears a path to mind-bending release.</strong></p><p>While undressing each other, we transmit and receive information about what turns the other guy on, what doesn’t, and what’s meh. We just need to look, listen, and feel for it. </p><p>It also builds erotic tension. </p><p>Cum denial, as it’s called in parts of the fetish community, or semen retention, as it’s called in various eastern spiritual communities, leads to an altered state of consciousness. Senses are heightened, and the mind focuses. Done in a community of men, it fosters heart-centered connections and a willingness to be vulnerable. </p><p>I first experienced this state with <a target="_blank" href="https://community.tantra4gaymen.com/">Tantra 4 Gay Men</a> during a weeklong retreat near Joshua Tree, California, where I went nearly two weeks without ejaculation. </p><p><strong>The point is that building erotic heat without release creates a heightened mental state. </strong></p><p>Invest in that state, and you’ll have an insanely intense orgasm—a frighteningly powerful full-body release. </p><p>It’s a rollercoaster ride that’s worth the wait in line. </p><p>The undressing ritual gives you a tiny glimpse into that euphoria, that connection to Everything, to the Divine. </p><p>You just need to be emotionally brave enough to speak your truth. Communicate what you want. Probably non-verbally. Say and accept “no” as helpful information so that everyone can lean into their erotic and emotional desires and needs, sometimes called fantasies. </p><p>The jackhammering may still happen, but if it does, it becomes a well-timed crescendo rather than the entire piece of music. It’s a dynamic highpoint, igniting the root charka, blasting energy up through the now energized spiritual centers, including the crown chakra where it’s possible to touch Divine wisdom, imbuing your cum shot with a melding of primal and sacred certainty. </p><p>We know joy. </p><p>We know peace. </p><p>Strangers we meet on the train leave happy. </p> <br/><br/>This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit <a href="https://mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe?utm_medium=podcast&#38;utm_campaign=CTA_2">mikegerle.substack.com/subscribe</a>
play-circle
10 MIN