September 21, 2007

Planter

A set of four from Science + Sons, each depicting a different urban park scene. $150 CAD.

I’m listening to “I Think We’re Alone Now” from The Rubinoos by The Rubinoos.

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September 19, 2007

Didn’t Charles Manson hang out there?

I got an interesting message tonight from this adorable guy in Palm Springs:

fuck i wish i could look into those eyes as you breed me and say thank you daddy satan for your load!

Anytime! (Isn’t that Spahn Ranch in the background?)

I’m listening to “Little by Little” from The Silver Collection by Dusty Springfield.

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September 17, 2007

A History of Violence

A friend of mine told me that Viggo Mortensen and David Cronenberg have a sado-masochistic sexual relationship but I didn’t believe him. Then I saw this picture and article in today’s Inky. I should have listened because he’s always right about this kind of thing.

I’m listening to “Touch of Evil” by Henry Mancini from Music in the First Degree.

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September 9, 2007

Viva!

I love this poster for a tranny site in the UK.

I’m listening to “Because He's New” from Jupiter by my long-time friends King of Siam.

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September 7, 2007

Fire!

I saw this today in West Philly. The smoke and flames were coming out of a pipe attached to a telephone pole on the southwest corner of 41st & Walnut. It was REALLY loud.

I’m listening to “Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls” from Lil' Beethoven (Deluxe Edition) by Sparks. Sparks’ Wikipedia entry, web site and (ick) myspace page with videos!.

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Posted by HighStrungLoner in Philly at 8:11 PM
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Tom Cat

I walked into the New Improved Tom Cat Bookstore around 11 pm last friday night with a friend. I wrote all about the layout in my previous post so I’ll skip that part. I had a lot of time to check it out since it was pretty empty when I got there. I’m not sure if this is because it was closed during the renovation or because people had just stopped going there. In either case, I hope people find out how nice it is because it could really be fun with a good crowd there. As it was, there were less than a dozen men when I arrived and, since the place isn’t small, it seemed quite empty.

I figured I’d have the best luck in the dark area that’s half TV lounge and half gloryholes since everyone seemed to wander in and out of there eventually and it was the unofficial smoking area. I was right. I saw a good-looking, lean guy, about my age, relaxing against the wall behind the gloryholes, groping himself. I walked up to him and rubbed his chest through his shirt. He leaned in and began kissing me. Very nice. He unbuttoned his shirt, showing a furry chest, and we got into some nipple play. We unzipped and pulled out our dicks. We got each other hard but it became obvious to me that he really only wanted a blow job. I think his constant pressure on the top of my head was a good indicator of that. I politely resisted and went on my way.

A really hairy, really drunk guy stumbled around for a while in his jockey shorts. I resisted the urge to hide his clothes behind the jukebox.

I should also point out that there were other guys at the Tom Cat—younger, less hairy guys—who had a more “commercial” look. These men would probably be much more appealing to the majority of men looking for sex, if not the majority of my readers, than the guys I choose to play with. I don’t usually mention them because we’re mutually uninterested in each other. This doesn’t mean they’re not there or even that they make up a minority of cruisers. I don’t talk about them because I’m rarely interested in them.

Back at the gloryholes I saw a man’s clothed ass pressing against the other side of the wall. I went around and saw a thin, sexy guy with a jaw line beard sucking off a really hot 70s clone type. He had the mustache, baseball cap, denim shirt, black belt and black shoes, the whole bit. Nice dick, too. This is still one of my favorite looks and always strikes me as unpretentious and masculine. He did nothing to spoil that fantasy for me, thank god. He was quietly enjoying himself, looking down at the man sucking his cock. I pulled out my dick. The sucker grabbed it and pulled me closer to the clone who began playing with me nipples through my grey wife-beater He offered me some poppers which I declined. The sucker went back and forth between us a few times, spitting on my dick a lot and looking up at me. He stayed bent over, never dropping to his knees. Then he concentrated on the other guy but kept looking at me, even after he stood up. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. The clone must have shot his load because I never saw him again.

At this point I had seen an older very hairy guy with a beard and a big, round, solid belly walking around without his shirt and sniffing poppers. He was really hot for that type. As I was leaving the gloryhole area I rubbed my hand across his furry chest. It felt wonderful. He immediately dropped his pants and just stood there. I had no idea what to do. His dick wasn’t much to speak of and I wasn’t gonna blow him or anything. I rubbed his chest for a while and took off. I saw this scene repeated a few more times through the night with other people. They all seemed to have the same reaction I did. I assumed he wasn’t communicating his needs very well but maybe that’s exactly what he was looking for.

I went into the last dark room before the exit because my friend told me I could get blown there. Inside the room was a really handsome guy, around my age with a longish goatee, ball cap, wire-rim glasses and, again, a big firm belly. I stood near him and stroked myself to hardness. He leaned over and started sucking. He was very good…for a while. I dropped my pants and played with his large nipples through his sweatshirt. (Just for the record, it’s pretty chilly in there!) He started jerking me, including my balls, with both hands and said, “I want your load.” He certainly wasn’t going to get it that way. I decided to lie down on the bench and do the job myself. I tried and tired but I just couldn’t. I made my apologies and walked around the place again.

I went back to that room later and he was gone. The thin guy who blew me then didn’t was there, again bent over, sucking off a cute guy I recognized from the philly gay.com chats. His crack was showing and I reached in to play with his hole. It was wet with lube and jism. Someone said, “Fuck him,” and started to pull down his pants. The sucker undid his belt and pushed his pants down. Nice! His hole was sloppy with juices but nicely tight. He was a great bottom He grabbed my cock, brought his ass down to my dick level and backed onto me. I grabbed his hips and pounded hard. The smell of other men’s cum in a man’s hold really turns me on so I was as hard as a rock. When I slowed down he started moving forwards and back, doing the work on both ends himself. I really wanted to shoot and started fucking hard again. He moaned, his mouth still on the other guy’s cock and he backed into me with every one of my thrusts. I was on the edge for what seemed like forever. It felt great but I was past the point of no return. I had to shoot. I began long strokes, completely in and out of his hole, hearing an “Oof!” from him every time I was completely inside him. It felt like I shot buckets. My dick stayed hard after and he ground himself into my crotch, squeezing every drop from me with his sphincter. I needed a short break to recharge so I pulled out and put my pants on.

It had gotten more crowded since it as now after 2 am but I was still surprised at how few men were there. Given the nice layout, cleanliness of the place and the reasonable price I thought it would be more crowded.

I went again to the room near the exit. The man who wanted my load was there again. I knew I wouldn’t be able to shoot again so soon. We kissed and stroked each other. It struck me when we were nearly done that I knew who this guy was. The glasses were a small clue and when I reached down to stroke his dick and felt a PA, I was sure of it. I’ve been fucking his partner regularly for a couple of years. They supposedly have an open relationship but this one gets really jealous. He wrote me a nasty message about it on M4M-World once. I didn’t recognize him because he’s much better-looking than his online pics (which also don’t hint at the belly but I don’t mind that at all). His other half told me that he was moving out on Friday when I played with him earlier that week. Needless to say, I didn’t yell “I know you!!” If he knew who I was, cool; if not, why start something? Really. I helped him get off while we continued kissing and rubbing our facial fur together. He shot into my hand and I licked the fingers clean. I told him I thought he was very handsome. He returned the compliment and left right away through the adjacent back door. I wasn’t long after him.

My buddy drove me home. Luckily he has a van because I found a great TV table with a swivel top in the trash and I was able to bring it back with me. When I looked at my computer There was a message from the last guy. He reminded me who he was, as if I would have forgotten or had played with so many that he would have been part of a huge blur of men, said he had a great time and would like to play again. Well, no hard feelings, I guess, since, by that time, he must have realized who I was. I responded in kind. Nothing since, though. I’m in no hurry.

I’m listening to “You Don't Send Me” from Dear Catastrophe Waitress by Belle & Sebastian.

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September 2, 2007

Extreme Makeover: Adult Bookstore Edition

I used to go to the Tom Cat Bookstore, downstairs at the Sansom Cinema a lot 15-20 years ago. It was lots of fun. Then I moved away and came back. The Tom cat seemed the same, if a bit deteriorated, but it just wasn’t fun anymore. It seemed both too bright and dingy at the same time. It was depressing. And empty. I only went once in the two and a half years since I moved back to Philly.

The other day a friend told me it had been remodeled so I went back on Friday night. It’s a whole different place. The bright lighting has been dimmed to a more reasonable level, a lot of it incandescent black-light, and the white walls have been replaced with brown and black. Most of the small arcade-style booths have been replaced with group sex spaces. Nice.

Admission is $10. I inserted bill into the machine and was automatically buzzed in, no need for human intervention. Just inside the door is an area with four brand new, clean and roomy black video booths with benches nicely padded with black vinyl. The benches are sort of sticking out of one of the side walls making them ideally placed for lots of different kinds of play. On the other side of the room, up a step, is a large triangular space lined with padded seating, a mirror covering one wall and a flat-panel monitor showing porn. The monitor is oddly placed and can only be viewed without incredible distortion by a really tall person standing directly in front of it. Weird. There was a good-looking (but not what I go for) Asian guy in a white lycra pullover hanging around this area most of the night. He spent nearly all of the time, I’m not kidding, standing in front of the mirror, adjusting himself and fixing his hair. It ws pretty amusing.

I went through a short hallway and made a u-turn to where the pool table used to be. Now there are two dark rooms there, painted black. The smaller one had a table and more padded seating along three walls and a monitor on the other wall showing a different movie. People seem to have made this the unofficial smoking room even though smoking is banned here by city ordinance. The second room has a 10 foot free-standing tongue-and-groove wall with some planks missing at crotch and eye-levels, sort of one long gloryhole. It's lit my one bare energy-saving black-light bulb. Very nice.

I had to exit that area through the same door I entered. After a left turn is a hallway with an alcove with more seating. Across from that is a door that seems to say "Do Not Enter" but the jokey sign, one of many in the place, says nothing of the sort really. Behind the door, which can be locked for privacy(!!) is a good size room lit only by a strobe light. There’s a huge metal cabinet on wheels, big enough to fit four, but, i promise you, it will fall over some day and seriously hurt someone. It’s wicked unsteady. The strobe light made me dizzy and I had to leave right away. The room was empty anyway. Maybe I was dizzy because I was spinning my arms around like Pete Townshend. Who knows?

After that is a large clean bathroom with a toilet, toilet paper(!!!) and a trough urinal! It’s not the kind someone can lie down in, by the way! A small section of the old booths are back in this area. They don’t seem so bad with the new lighting and people used them a lot. No gloryholes here or in the other booths which is the one major oversight I found. This section is brighter than the rest of the place but still, thankfully, dimmer than the convenience store glare of the old place.

Finally, just off the rear exit, another secluded dark room lined with benches and a table. I had some real fun in that room.

By the way, the jukebox, which was always pretty good, is gone, replaced by piped-in techno music throughout which is, surprisingly, not deafening.

I was very impressed. Whoever put the new Tom Cat together should be applauded. Between this place and the new baths, Philly finally has a couple of sex clubs worthy of a major American city. Unfortunately, both places share a common problem: There was hardly anyone there. At 11 pm on a Friday night, there were less than a dozen paying customers. What?? It seems really new, so maybe people just don’t know about it yet. I hope that’s what’s wrong. I’d hate to think that gay men in Philly suffer from the “we’re not New York” syndrome that people accuse us of having and think we don’t deserve a good, clean sex club. I have to say that more guys showed up as the bars closed. Sadly, since it’s within two blocks of all of the gay bars in Philly, the crowd was not very impressive.

Part of the problem might be that younger people are much more sex-negative, believing that they’ll catch something just by walking into a place, than the previous generations were. They also seem not just turned off, but actually repulsed, by the idea that someone over 25 might be in their immediate vicinity. (It’s like Jen not wanting Evel Dick to touch her in a competition on the first day of Big Brother 8, although I wouldn’t want that saggy-ass chicken-hawk to be anywhere near me either!) While some of them would like a place like this, they will never go to one unless every patron is someone they find attractive. That’s something that has never bothered me and I don’t think I’ll ever really understand it. Oh well.

I did have sex while I was there, though not as much as I would have liked. It could have been more satisfying, too. But more about that tomorrow. I’m heading to bed.

I’m listening to “I Can't Make It Alone” from Dusty in Memphis by Dusty Springfield.

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