Best move I made

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One of the best moves I've made in my professional & personal life is when I just stopped giving a fuck about people who simply don't matter. The feeling is mutual...I learned that the hard way.

Book me: dance gigs, video-, photo- &amp promo shoots.

No more condom-free porn in the Valley? Hehehe.

-

Slapping skins in Californian porn may be a thing of the past and the criminal future. Back in 2011 a 17-page proposal by Cal/OSHA sought mandatory condom usage on all porn productions. Critics (translation: male porn actors and male porn watchers) cried, Big Brother!, and claimed California could kiss good-bye to its billions being made in the Valley and Bay Area as $$$$ drifted, instead, to the exotic locales of Washington, Vancouver, Oregon, Nevada and, hell, maybe even cheap ass, corrupt Mexico.  

For all of Chicken Little's hollering we know, now, the law has passed in Southern California...so Treasure Island Media is safe (for now). But what about SX Video in San Diego? Easy: move to Portland! Or maybe, still: slip to Tijuana!

Ha!

I think this still is from my only SXVideo shoot.

They never called me back.

Do me a favor: Don't call me an escort

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I'm not an escort because I'm not escorting. I am not escorting because there's nothing in it for me.

There was a time when I was cool with it. I was serious about promoting myself; my services, availability, image (including full face and frontal), and I was eager to be hired and used. Used, not abused. I am in the business of objectification. It does not bother me in the least to be, within context, sexually objectified. It's rewarding to give pleasure. 

In fact, it is arousing, per se; It is arousing to be paid for sex. 

And I liked that the client had a great time with me...and felt the experience was worth it, money well spent. I felt proud of garnering repeat clients. I have kept in touch with several over the years even when our association progressed beyond sex.

But having my time frittered away by some pretend client or "#1 fan"? That is something I can not stand. I can't stand to waste time; not with folks I know and even less so with those timid souls who lurk in cyberspace anonymity, desperately resisting to "come clean", "talk turkey", or meet me halfway.

If the mood suddenly strikes you and you want to order me up like pizza home-delivery, satiate your sexual appetite, pay the tab and be done with me. No problemo. But to not pay for the service or, even before reaching that point, expect that I should persuade you to hire me is not okay. It's bullshit. As we Americans say, Time is money and, to use another phrase, Talk is cheap. So if one isn't about giving up the money - because it's degrading - then I'm not about being degraded by giving away my time and body so some manipulative, cheap motherfucker can get his rocks off. Nigga, please. I'm not to be had for the price of a compliment. No free meal here!

wanting to see me naked or wanting me to fuck you is not doing me a favor

I didn't escort because I was so pitifully unqualified to do anything else. Or because I was in search of love or friendship or human touch. The economy was bad and, true, job hirings were scarce so, for me, the curiosity of prostitution became less far-fetched. But the bottom line, though, is I started escorting because people were willing to pay to be with me...and I quickly became less offended by that proposition. Then the Internet became a common medium for doing business; then 'doing business' was downgraded to hook-ups. "sup?" "I luv the way u fuck, Troy!! Can we meat nsa?" "Ur videos (body/dick/sex/ass) are hot. I'm here anytime you want to fuck me." "Wanna play?" "Pls u send me a dick pic?" "Here's my ass, Troy. Call me if ur interested."  Wait: me call you? If I'm interested?? And don't get me started on the times I was stood up or sent to the wrong address. Suffice it to say, Internet users and porn fans have turned me off of escorting. After much disappointment & thought I've said to myself, What's in it for me? 

Answer: Nothing.

The minutia of two-faced, hypocritical, envious, fake, flaky, double-crossing, obsessed, cloak-and-dagger, painfully mysterious, energy-sapping, time-wasting, unhappy gay(sic), photo hound Internet trolls may be an occupational hazard but it is not one to which I have to shrug and cater. People will treat you the way you allow them to. And Troy, for one, has a life with irretrievable minutes; with interests much, much, much more substantive than being retweeted, 'followed', voted Best Whore, fawned over, promised the moon & stars. I realized this: Individual X has a desire to be with me, not the other way round; has sought me out, not the other way round; knows all of what I look like, not the other way round; and he/she may truly believe that I am nothing more than a sex worker, not.the.other.way.round. To be blunt, wanting to see me naked or wanting me to fuck you is not doing me a favor. But wanting me to be with you for free is doing myself a disfavor! Time is money. Shallow? Not if you live in the real world.

I am in the business of objectification. It does not bother me to be, within context, sexually objectified. In fact, it is arousing

I still enjoy providing adult entertainment and working in pornography, but as far as sharing my sex to fulfill the private lust of some faggot joker? That fucking ship has sailed.

Thinking with both heads

And speaking of literature. The other day while writing at my desk I felt something drop against my ankle. I looked down to discover I was dripping pre-cum! Then I swiped my fingers across my nipple and the fucker sprang rigid. Damn! even when I am busy working through dialogue & plot cohesion I'm so horny it has a mind of its own.

Times like this I wished I had someone's mouth to call on to service my nipples & dick.

(Still, rubbing one out beats pissing away time online any day! I have a life.)

To The Glory of the Machofuckers (Didier Lestrade)

Check out this Vice magazine article about some of us hardcore porn performers A La Gloire des Machofuckers.
(Warning: It's written in French)

EXTRA! EXTRA! SEE ALL ABOUT IT!

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His legs are spread & my ass looks like baked bread. Yum!

The funny thing about being me is that incredible shit happens almost routinely. Incredible can be good or bad. One week I'm in Philadelphia, the next weekend it's Los Angeles or San Francisco, and a couple days later somewhere in ice cold Sweden or Italy -- and with not so much planning beforehand. Maybe I'm sleeping in a hotel, bus depot, bath house, jail, or a grateful stranger's bed. It's happened. I've gotten laid in hostel showers, park bushes, souvenir shops when all I intended to do was bathe, stroll, or buy a tacky key-chain. Fuck happens! (To be fair I've also done it in normal places like the back of a van or my parents' bedroom. And there was this one time a German woman, a complete stranger, gave me a handjob in a darkened cinema. Actually it happened twice (a friend's female cousin) but, c'mon, it's the cinema: that's not exactly something that only happens to porn stars.) So this past week I'm doing my own thing - browsing the flea market, going through emails, reading, maybe heading to the beach - when I get a call to shoot a video. And just like that my weekend schedule revolved around pounding numb some hot tail & skull fucking him senseless -- all in the name of pornography. 

What can I say, I just don't do boring. Or apps. 

Carpe diem! 

(see the video at Machofucker. com)

   

@Troymission

DEAR TROY ... Gramsci & sexy oratorical fantasy

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Dear Troy
Thank you for my nickname! I'll try to use it as much as possible from now on. The biggest question now is whether you find polar bears attractive enough to fuck.... :) 

I'd hoped I'd shared enough (and continue to share enough) to let you know more about me. I'm not trying to hide things from YOU.... 

Although you think we've talked in person or on another forum about gay marriage (or any other issue), we haven't. I wish...! As I've said before, I've fantasized about "crushing" you in debates (but the fantasy went farther), although you're wise to separate polemics from conversation, which is usually more productive and almost always friendlier! I know we could have some interesting and valuable conversations, partly in Nietzsche's sense---playful seriousness and serious playfulness---and partly in Gramsci's---optimism of the will and pessimism of the intellect. The latter seems to sum up what you've lived through, that is, how you've approached (had to approach?) a lot of your experience. It seems there's no other way you could live your particular nomadic existence, the one you must have in your own skin, a skin that is so beautiful, whose sweat is so much like a miraculous oasis in deserts of being that I want to be there to drink it (you) up, but that idiot others see as the terrible cause and/or deserved effect of second-, third-, or tenth-class status. Maybe it would be better for a while to see what it's like to have a white guy along who's fine with few possessions but still has plenty of white privilege to throw around. We could practice our polyamory, calibrate it, bring home guys to play with or just play ourselves (even if you'll want a woman sometimes). And there will be discussions galore and some burdens lifted from you or shared.

Read more: http://troymoreno.blogspot.com/2015/04/dear-troy-polyamory-american-nigger-in.html#ixzz3YEuUEQnI

Dear Polar Bear:
We've met before. I know you.

New video release at Machofucker.com

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

KickSagat covers all asses

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Whose ass do these trippy pants more justice:


Mademoiselle Sagat
or
Mademoiselle Yellowshoes ??

I guess when girls look right-at-home in menswear, then either the design isn't a very masculine one...or probably never was with which to begin. The take-away: don't give marmalade to a pig.

17cms was too much for me

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So I had it cut off. The seamstress did a good job. The logo was gone but, what the fuck did I care, my shorts fit better. Wait, what did you think I was talking about?

I only wear shorts on two occasions: exercise and the beach. And I hate long shorts. They make me look even shorter. It's one of the things I find irritating with these over hyped 'fitness competitions' (they're models participating in a modeling contest...call it like it is) because board shorts totally hide the legwork. 

 how ya like me now?

The gym shorts* (Under Armor in case you're wondering) were a gift and feel absolutely sweet against the skin, don't bunch up, have pockets -- but they were too long. Like it was designed for NBA players. It nagged me. So I had 'em altered - hell, I've even taken underwear to be tailored - and did away with a full 17cm! That's nearly as long as my dick.
Now I can see my knees and have greater ease of movement ... which is the whole point of gym shorts, baby.  

Thank you @atlgaboy30305!

*be sure to wear something underneath or else your junk will be as obvious as a bull in a China shop.

DEAR TROY ... Polyamory, "An American Nigger in San Juan"

Dear Troy
All right, all right, I thought it was clearly meant that I was just using "bb" as shorthand for "bareback." I certainly don't go around saying "bb" instead of "bareback," and I guess I'd usually spell it out in writing, too. Anyway, I liked the image of the child.

I'm still surprised, however, that you said first that you'd lost work because you wouldn't perform "condom-free" as if there were some distinction between that and "bareback," "raw," etc. 

I guess I'd advocate that polyamory makes more sense than polygamy or anything else. That's a long conversation, though. I think I'd probably fit best in a triad relationship, but I haven't had the chance to try it out.

In the past you were virulently opposed to gay marriage and contemptuous of anyone who advocated it, tacitly or not. Your stance didn't seem predicated on reservations about divorce or proposals for alternative legal frameworks giving same-sex couples the right to hospital visits and such. What changed? 

I have read A Traveler Other and An American Nigger in San Juan. I haven't read your plays because when I initially searched for them I couldn't find them. I haven't tried in a while. Could you point me in the right direction? I know a community theater that might be willing to produce one or more, but obviously I'd have to read them before making recommendations. Which playwrights do you admire? I'm dissatisfied with most contemporary theater; I wish Pinter were still alive and writing. Have you seen the collaborations he did with Joseph Losey? I think Accident is the best.

I can see you being interested in Teddy Roosevelt. You share the same wanderlust he had and the desire to put pen to paper (sort of) about it. Unfortunately you don't have the same freedom of passage he did, in wealth, skin color, connections, or outsized reputation.

I'm always working on several books at once. Now it's histories of Reconstruction and Jim Crow.

I hope what I'm writing is giving you more than an idea of my personality, interests, etc. I have an undergrad degree from Harvard with a few grad courses, but no real progress toward a grad degree for various reasons, including fear of massive debt. I also think it's a lot more important to have a native intelligence than a college degree. An American, I've traveled overseas and lived for several years abroad in a non-English-speaking country. I read a lot, mostly non-fiction. I write some, too.

I imagine you want to know something about me physically. I'm in my 40s, pretty short, and fairly hairy. I'm white, with brown hair and hazel eyes. I've put on some extra pounds in the past few years, but living in a really cold climate is a major part of the problem. I'm in a new exercise regimen that's getting rid of the belly, though. Once I get the body I want or come close to it (and probably need if I want you to fuck me---and maybe more?), I hope we could be workout partners. :)

Thanks for the interest....

Read more: http://troymoreno.blogspot.com/2015/04/dear-troy-doing-bb-scenes-same-sex.html#ixzz3XMb2uiTl



DEAR ANONYMOUS:
I'm very happy to read you've read a couple of my books (and, apparently, frequent my web logs)! What you write concerning my stance on same-sex marriage, and, really, the tone of your wording, intrigues me because it implies we've discussed it at length and, yet, Anonymous, that is a topic which I don't casually discuss with people; especially those who, like yourself I gather, have a very different id est favorable or nonchalant opinion of the issue. So now Troy is combing the old memory bank to narrow down those few persons with whom such a loaded topic would have been deemed appropriate to knock around for, you see, I do not mistake arguments for conversation.

In the meantime, your physical description, while not abetting my memory, sounds extremely conducive to your surroundings. Fairly hairy...white...some extra pounds...cold climate. I shall henceforward refer to you as Polar Bear! It's ironic that such a proud homosexual attempts to remain so hidden while simultaneously inquisitive of moi. Tsk, tsk, tsk. (Btw, PB, the use of the diminutive 'belly' instead of 'stomach,' 'midsection' or 'abdomen' does filter my search of past acquaintances).

As to the tag of porn scenes, please call it whatever you like but the take-away is this: an uncovered dick by any other name is the typecast I'm expected to oblige. Some guys seem to get off with calling it breeding or raw fucking. Me? Without thinking about it, I'm much more likely to say "fucking without condoms" than "bareback." But, like I said, an uncovered dick by any other name.... 

I'd be a big shameless whore if I weren't so scrupulous

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I could get more porn work if I were willing to degrade myself further, including doing gigs for not so much money. Think on that the next time you see one of your favorite porn stars in, yet, another new production. Not that I find sex work degrading or demeaning (of course not); but we all have a threshold at which point it becomes uncomfortable to proceed. I pity the fools who show no such limitations. Linda Lovelace discovered hers. Edward Snowden discovered his. I know mine. Have you discovered yours?  

Unfortunately I do know the word no and there are brief moments when I resent it. I really do. If it weren't for this overly simplistic, monosyllabic word I'd be so much more contracted -- or dead. Oh well. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da sometimes you simply gotta, as Nancy put it, Just say no!   

Don't beat, go out and meet!

-


Seriously? Man, if you gotta belong to a jack-off community, then you really, really have social or some other issues. Thanks to the World Wide Web a loser is nurtured every half minute. Devolution....
Don't beat it when you can go out and meet it!

Troy Moreno & Cory Koons (VIDEO)

behind-the-scenes shot of Cory's ass after our shoot

Cory is such a hungry and smooth-skinned bottom. It was a real treat being paired with him. When Nick Moretti asked if I had anyone in mind I initially answered no. Then, being in San Francisco, I had a flashbulb moment and immediately text'd back, On second thought is it possible you can arrange an Asian model? He replied, "Really? I know just the person." Man, was I surprised to learn I would be working with Cory Koons! 

He has beautiful skin and feet, cute almond eyes, and a sweet, soft asshole. His hipster tattoos are colorful and convey an edginess that's, well, erotic on a bottom power -- and without the desperate appeal typical of tattooed twinks who want to be regarded seriously as rough men rather than the buttboy sluts they are. Check us out:

Raw Fuck Club - Troy Moreno and Cory Koons

DEAR TROY ... Doing "bb" scenes, same-sex marriages

Dear Troy... 
Me again. I wanted to write sooner. Sorry I didn't.
I see you have at least five bb scenes out there, including ones with Armond Rizzo and Cory Koons, so I wonder why you say you've lost work for refusing to do bb, which implies that you've never done it. At least there is Truvada now, although it's apparently astronomically expensive, but with condoms added, two (or more!) serodiscordant partners could have amazing fucks, or so I think. Do you?
Have you ever been in love? What sort of relationship would you ever see yourself in? I know you oppose everything about gay marriage, including any legal codification approving it (which was one of the "questionable" political stances I was talking about before), but is there any point at which you'd think of having a few men (or one) you were really emotionally and mentally connected with while pursuing your porn and other careers as well as your other sexual adventures? Would you at least go for a "fellow traveler"? I could talk about how disappointed I am in Obama and Israel, too, but probably from a much more leftist perspective. (Have you read Max Blumenthal's book Goliath?) And you could tell me much more about where you've been and where you hope to go as you continue to satisfy your lust and wanderlust.

I never meant to give the impression that I disapprove of drinking at all or YOUR smoking habits. When it comes to smoking, that's what I meant when I said that finding out a guy is a smoker inveterately turns me off, even when I've already developed some sort of interest in him, even if he's a favorite actor or porn star---but then you came along. Hell, cigars and pipe tobacco are far better than cigarettes and almost always better than pot and incense!

I just read your post about the Kit Kat. You failed to mention how you were outfitted---not that it's any of my business---but what kinds of erotic outfits do you like to see potential partners or longer-term fuck buddies in? What other things do you find especially sexy? (I'm glad to see you like hair and don't seem to mind beards....!) And how does the Kit Kat compare with other sex clubs? 

Are you working on another book or do you have plans for another? What are some of your favorite books and why? And what about authors? 

I guess that's it for now. Be well

Read more: http://troymoreno.blogspot.com/2015/03/dear-troy-platos-phaedrus.html#ixzz3Wd5eaTHr

Dear Anonymous:
No, no, no I said I lost work for refusing to perform condom free. Believe it or not. It was a blast shooting with Cory Koons and Armondito. By the way, "bb"? Nah let's call it by its name: homosexual barebacking (the term isn't used in straight porn nor to describe reproductive coupling); bb sounds so misleadingly cute...like a thick tongued child trying to say he needs to use the bathroom. 

Same-sex marriage is still not a thing I flippantly regard as 'Sure, why not?' In the face of cruel divorce biases, I think it is quite reasonable for a man to decide to live or partner with another man than buy into the drama of legally marrying a woman. Hell, polygamy makes more sense than our current provision of 'one man-one woman'. Legally recognizing unrelated persons as estate benefactors or 'next of kin' in cases of emergencies and hospital visits is an advance that can be made and ought to have been, it seems to me, without sanctioning same-sex marriages.   

No, I've not read Blumenthal's "Goliath" but, yes, I am busy working on another book as well as a play! Have you read my previous works? Currently I'm reading "The Bully Pulpit" (Doris Kearns Goodwin). As for my personal life I'll keep that personal except to say that I care nothing for games or costumes in the bedroom; plainly, I like my lovers to be barefoot butt ass naked and clean smelling. Aside from, maybe, a tan line I don't care to see them wearing anything but a grin -- and me. 
I don't ask for much.  

flaccid dick on a sleeping rump

How to be an ex-porn star (Conner Habib)

ALMOST time to go!

At the KitKatClub (BERLIN)

-

Once inside it doesn't take long to see what's all the fuss about. 

After answering some preliminary questions from the woman at the door (Was I alone? Did I know this is the KitKatClub? Did I have an outfit to wear?) I paid the 10 euro cover, changed into my erotic gear (with condoms and lube stuffed down my crotch) and checked my things at the coat-check. Everyone was undressing right there at the Reception. Some suited up in latex or capes, plenty dressed in bondage shit, and still others donned masks, jockstraps, skimpy mini skirts, elaborate costumes or nothing at all. Some women went around with exposed titties (but they weren't really enticing ones, if you ask me; tended to be shaped more like bee stings or eggplants...there was one, though, dressed in a yellow miniskirt that had a helluva rack!), most men went topless with neckties, but three old ass delusional perverts were buck ass naked -- and that was three naked geezers too many. Those creeps tugged at their turkey gizzards the whole damn night. (It must suck not to get an erection; and IF that tiny thing represented an erection then he should retire to China).

condoms and lube stuffed down my crotch

It took hours before I got any action. The sexing I witnessed up until that point was clearly between couples who enjoyed being watched - correction: ogled. I concluded they were couples because she wasn't passed around -- much to the dismay of so many peckers. With no bitches catching my scent I was damned if I was going home without getting laid so...I opened up my options. (Be that as it may I still would prefer to go on a mixed night than an all-gay night because it is just a bit more exciting than being in the thick of unshapely horny Germans who decided to take a respite from anti-socializing on Gayromeo). 

My fun started with a blowjob from a hairy man in a jockstrap. I'd seen him sucking two guys earlier and was keen to have him on my dick. Unfortunately he wasn't looking to have his furry cheeks penetrated and since I was looking for more than head we parted ways. Then I came across a literal tug-and-suck fest. Apparently entry into such socials requires whipping out your dick - or getting on your knees - so out came my dick. My calling card was taken up by yet another bearded man. Then another. Who knew there were so many hipsters in the mix! While the first one monopolized my shaft, the other suckled on my nipples - which I love! - before eventually getting some head time in. But the first beard took it back and greedily sucked my knob until I felt the stirrings of orgasm. He did too. I didn't want to come; but the more I tried to pull back the greedily he sucked, intent on draining me. Short of hitting him I wasn't getting out of his mouth so I relished the heightened sensation and let the dam brake loose. I came into both of their mouths. Not a drop escaped onto their beards. The first one sat there for a long time afterwards staring up at me with a satisfied grin like the sweet cocksucker that he was. I bent over and thanked him with a kiss.

Then he whispered, Will you fuck me? I nodded.

I thought that concluded my night and went and sat in a small lounge with dead TV monitors pitted in its red painted wall. A group of three drinkers - two men and a lady - sat opposite. I rested my head back and closed my eyes. Someone sat near me. It was a handsome, brown man I'd recognized throughout the night. His body was lean and hairless and he was sporting tiny white running shorts which nicely contrasted his bronze tone. Spent, though, I leaned my head back and ignored him.  When his hand caressed my chest I didn't flinch; nor as it moved down to my crotch. I pulled it out for him to admire better. Right there before the watching eyes of the trio (I peeked) he took my dick in his mouth. I reclined and stared at the ceiling. Then he whispered, Will you fuck me? I nodded. Follow me, he grinned. We stopped the foreplay show and he led me to an area just off of the principal dance floor. 

I took my sweet time rimming his smooth small Spanish ass. With our clothes down round our ankles I lay flat across his back and began pumping ass! I wished we'd connected before the tag-team blowjob when I was on full brick. But, hey, one mustn't let a little thing like that get in the way of getting laid. There were always onlookers and our affair was no exception. Then we lay side by side and masturbated each other, cumming almost in sync. 

staring up at me with a satisfied grin like the sweet cocksucker that he was

When I left the Kit Kat I was surprised to see the bright blue Sunday morning sky. It was 7am. 

PS: Best of all: NO CELL PHONES ALLOWED.

The unsexiness of delusions

-
I had the most stirring dream last night. Not strange or weird in any unreal sense because all dreams are 'strange' in their credible distortion of time, travel, and chronology; nor was the immediate waking to Reality marked by a residue of Fear, cold sweat, eeriness, regret or jubilation. Instead I felt calm -- and proud.

I'm in a shopping mall when I pass someone I know from the Industry. I acknowledge him with a subdued yet friendly greeting. He rebuffs me. I'm not a squeaker, he sneers. A squeaker? I wonder aloud. What's that? Sm'body who fucks boy ass, he clarifies pointedly and to the amusement of his friends. But for their ridiculous laughter do I notice them: a gaggle of girls with an alpha bitch sidling up to him; the girlfriend. And like a woman, she opens her mouth when she shouldn't, intent on adding insult to injury. Yeah, comes her unsolicited input as they glide up the escalator, he don't fuck boys and girls together. More ridiculous laughter at my expense. I fire back: Not 'together' because a fat cow like you wouldn't agree to it; but he certainly fucks both in the same week! Silence. I walk out of the building and into Consciousness.

One of the irritating things about that encounter involves the projected - i.e., shared - delusions from the unnecessary lies we tell ourselves. They both knew the score - I'm sure the bitch wasn't THAT oblivious - but rather than grin and nod they opted instead to play me. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Unless I'm holding a ticket stub to see you playact don't share your fucking delusions with me.   

Browsing in an adult bookstore

-


So I'm minding my own business perusing pervert products in a sex shop when who should I encounter but...myself!
I think the photo (by Louis LaSalle) captures my sweaty intensity quite well, don't you? And, no, I don't know whose dick that is on the opposite page. What sort of pervert do you take me for!