Peter’s End
By Steve Prince
“Can’t tonight boys,” I gushed, “Momma’s gotta date!”
“Oooohhh,” Alex cooed, while Omar, Cody, and Troy smiled.
It was Saturday and the four of us had just finished a brisk walk through Santa Monica, right by Alex’s condo. We sat in the grass under the shade of trees. I often have to remind myself it’s November in California; I’m still not used to the beautiful weather.
We all tried to hang out with Alex on Saturdays, but all four of us could rarely make the visit at the same time. Hanging out usually involved a day of enjoying the beach outside, then brunch, and then enjoying Alex’s pool and hot tub—a nice weekend tradition.
“I see how you are,” Troy teased. “Instead of going to see a hot shirtless werewolf movie with us you’d rather fuck your boyfriend.”
“Can I skip the movie and go with Stevie?” Cody interrupted.
We laughed as the ocean breeze rustled loudly in the palms above us.
“Well,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “I don’t know if I’ll be the one doing the fucking, but it will be fun.”
A collective, “What?” issued from all four of them. Shit the bed. Why did I just say that?
Omar, who had been lying on the grass, sat up. “Steve Prince,” he said, “you mean you haven’t fucked him?”
“No,” I said, knowing where this was going. I really didn’t want to bring this up right now.
“When did you become strictly a bottom?” Alex asked honestly.
“I’m not,” I said.
“Then why aren’t you fucking him?” Troy asked. “Or do you not want to?”
Apart from some very well-taken self-nudes, the height of creativity on QueerClique tends to be men pooping out action figures on video (not that we mind). But it’s always nice to find something even more creative on QClique.
Take Kentucky Boy for instance. The blue-eyed, long-banged Michael Pitt look-alike is a singer/songwriter from the United States who joined QClique just four days ago. In and that time he’s posted three of his self-made music videos. In his own words:
I’m taking my place in the music world! I am “100% ORIGINAL & 100% GAY”!!
I am proud of my work and I hope you love it!! I’m an addict for catchy beats and good lyrics that tell a story. That’s what I strive for in my songs!! : )
But before we comment on his music, we wanted to let you hear some for yourself. Here’s the video for his song Gay Heaven:
Well, it’s definitely more Dempsey Stearnes than Madonna. But his better song is Stand Up And Be Who You Are, if not for the lyrics than for the cracked-out video—the digital wash features muscley drag queens working the runway while the Kentucky Boy himself gets lifted up by colorful balloons.
In Stand Up And Be Who You Are, Kentucky Boy says, “Let me tell you something that all you rainbow children should know” and then goes on to talk about how he’s tired of having suicidal thoughts. Later, on I’m So Damn Drunk, he starts off the song taking his fourth shot and then, after some guy starts grinding up on his ass, he ends up throwing up on the dance floor—HAWT!
Maybe if he didn’t drink, slut around, and throw up so often in public, he wouldn’t be suicidal. It’s not pooping out action figures, but as far as entertainment value goes, it’s pretty damned closed!
A Few Good Men
By Steve Prince
“Ah, thanks for calling, Stevie.”
“Of course,” I said. “I just wanted to say thanks for what you do.”
On Veteran’s Day I talked to one of my best friends, Bianca. Bianca and her husband Heath, were both stationed in Washington D.C. as members of the Navy.
I always try and call them on Veteran’s Day, even though they’re still in active duty. A second generation Italian, Bianca looks more like Catherine Zeta-Jones than an aggressive female solider, and her husband Heath is just as good-looking.
“Well, Heath and I appreciate the thought,” Bianca said over the phone. “I wish you were here.”
“I know,” I said thoughtfully, remembering the last time I visited her and Heath.
“When was the last time you saw us?” she asked. “Two years ago?”
Yep, two years ago. And on that Veteran’s Day, I gave my own service to some of the men who serve…
If singer Pearly Gate’s video is to be believed, Zeb Atlas has several sweet, sweet bitches spread out all over the U.S. just begging for his muscled ass to come back home! Apparently he’s telling all these poor ladies that he’s busy at board meetings.
Um… we hate to burst your Harlequinn Romance, ladies. But when Zeb’s not home, he’s a homo. Oh, it’s all business. After all, he’s gay-for-pay (and straight as our curvy dicks), but while your pining away for him in bed, he’s pining away at some guy’s ass. Having seen his butthole makes this sweet video seem all the more naive. But a girl can dream, can’t she?
Thanks to Unzipped for digging up this butt nugget.
French photographic duo Exterface casts their spell once more in their latest photo series, Illuminati. For their next trick, they’ve enlisted the help of human sketchpad, Arian Levanael, to pose as an incredibly hot magician. He’s making a wand or two raise from under our capes by hypnotizing us with his shiny bulge.
We’re digging on their modern take on “smoke and mirrors” and the magic theme, especially since another famous boy wizard is about to makehis porn debut. We just wish that Levanael had pulled a furry creature out of his hat. We have…
The Dirty Mexican
By Steve Prince
“I fucked the hell out of him.”
I coughed up my ginger ale. “You what?” I spattered.
“Yep,” Omar said with a mischievous grin, “pounded him like a tortilla.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said.
“Well, if you’re Mexican,” Omar pointed to himself, “it makes perfect sense. Good tortillas are a lot of work.”
I regained my composure and smirked. “Well, I hope he was good one.”
“Eh,” Omar squeaked while waving his hand from side to side, “he helped me get the job done.”
“So, I’m assuming the single life is treating you well?” I asked.
“Very,” Omar replied, digging into his food.
Omar had only been single for about two weeks.
After a year and a half of living with Nathan, Omar felt stifled. Nathan had moved in six months ago, and ever since then things had gone downhill. When I asked Omar if something had gone terribly wrong, he shook his head side to side.
“Not really,” he pondered nonchalantly.
It’s funny that we often think that couples have to have a terrible tragedy or extreme conflict to break up. Even straight people think that way. Perhaps it’s the drama queen in all of us. I mean, the Greeks kind of planted the seeds of dramatic breakup in their plays and it seems to have grown in our minds over the ages.
The reality of the situation is, sometimes break ups aren’t that dramatic. Omar is an example of that. Over the last eight months, Nathan has been horribly depressed and dependent on Omar to take care of him. Finally, Omar realized he couldn’t “fix” Nathan. And so he called it off and Nathan moved out.
It might sound selfish, but it was good to have Omar back. Troy, Alex, Cody, and I had often felt like we had lost a friend because Omar became completely engrossed in his relationship. I didn’t blame Omar; he was doing what he thought best. Still, I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t hurt my feelings. His friendship meant a lot to all of us. Suddenly, our little group felt a cog missing.
And, I can’t lie, it was good to have Omar’s promiscuity back. Omar could pick up men with ease. I mean it wasn’t a surprise. He’s a very handsome man. That’s the best way to describe him… handsome. With his strong square jaw, short black hair peppered with grey, and his slim tight body, Omar was one of a kind. He also had a beer-can-dick; at least that’s what I called it. That thing was so thick that a paramedic could use it as the jaws-of-life to pry someone out of a crushed car. It was thick and hard like a Redwood tree.
Between Francois Sagat’s appearance inSaw VI, his dressing up as a creepy clown last year for Halloween, and now his starring in Bruce La Bruce’s new flick LA Zombie, Sagat’s become the porn star for Halloween!
You may remember that La Bruce directed Otto! or Up With Dead People!. It was basically a porno with zombies which is kinda hot in grotesque sort of way. The trailer for LA Zombie looks like it will follow zombie Sagat as he ambles around LA in a wifebeater and high tops looking for fresh meat. Just a typical Saturday night in LA, really.
If you’re looking for more scarrifying fun, check out our collection of fun horror-comedy clips from last Halloween!
Blind Faith
By Steve Prince
“Just let ’em sit in their own shit and smell themselves.”
My Grandma Ida used to say that, God rest her soul.
She also loved to cook and feed her family. When you came to Grandmamma Ida’s you ate whether you were hungry or not. Her home cooking also came with food for thought. Often, as I ate macaroni and cheese and sipped Dr. Pepper from a can, Grandmamma would recite her own life lessons and stories of raising my father and his four siblings.
Grandma Ida (Ida Jean to be exact) was a master of sayings. Growing up I knew her as an old, stubborn, and extremely wise woman with a heart of gold. She said what was on her mind, whether it hurt or not—the truth, or her opinion of it, was paramount. She had lived an extremely hard, very poor life in Southern Oklahoma, yet she loved her children and her grandchildren with a ferociousness that could also be scary if you ever crossed her. She was a survivor to say the least.
As Peter and I stood in Obar, me waiting for the bathroom and he wearing a waiter’s apron, I watched him shuffle from side to side, his eyes darting for refuge. I felt my Grandma’s ferocious spirit—bubbling inside of me. Don’t overreact, Steve, I kept telling myself.
Get Smart
By Steve Prince
“Are you drunk?” I asked, turning to face Cody.
He stopped walking, baiting me. “Tipsy,” he said smiling.
“Ah, he’s fine,” Troy said catching up to us. “He’s a faker.”
Alex, whose arm was around Troy’s shoulder, nodded his head. “It’s true,” he said turning to Cody. “I saw you have only two beers.”
“I’m just in a good mood,” Cody giggled. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. Now that almost all of us are single again.”
Cody was right. It had been a long time. Tonight we were enjoying a reunion of sorts by having dinner. However, Cody and Omar diverted us to West Hollywood first to have a pre-dinner drink.
“Where did Omar go?” I asked.
The four of us turned. Two hundred feet behind us stood Omar, talking to some hot Latino boy.
Unless you’ve been reading this blog blind, you’ll know just how much we love, Love, LOVE Exterface. The French photographic duo create sensuous portraits of hot men that are bold, vivid, cinematic, and scorching hot! They’re releasing a book called The X Faces of Fred Faurtin in which… well, why don’t we just let them describe it:
Imagined by Exterface, «X» is as a ten-acts work of art and the result of ten months working on themes such as seduction and conquest. On more than a hundred of pictures, the duet direct Fred Faurtin, through ten characters, with surprising and captivating women and men (François Sagat, Vin Costes, Dj Leomeo…). All together, they experience an emotional journey, cover and undercover, travel through times, locations where baroque, romanticism, fantastic, thriller, punk and even antiquity are mixed.
We all know justhowartyFrancois Sagat can get, so we’re excited to see just how he figures into the book. As for Fred Faurtin, we’re usually not a fan of the male tramp stamp (especially one baring the title of a Vin Diesel movie, but considering his amazing ass, how good he looks in Tom of Finland gear, and the fact that Exterface decided to do 10 photo series with him, we’re prepared to overlook it.
In Stereo
By Steve Prince
Why was I uncomfortable?
I mean, really. Here I am in Washington, D.C., marching in the National Equality March, with thousands and thousands of other LGBT people and I feel uncomfortable.
And what bugged me is that I wasn’t uncomfortable with all the other marchers; I felt annoyed that I was making myself feel uncomfortable.
A group of deaf transgender people marched by, their hands signing furiously and some chanting, “We will always fight, all we want is equal rights!”
And there came that feeling again; and I bristled with annoyance at myself once more. As the group of deaf transgender men and women walked by, my first thought was, “Trans people aren’t deaf.”
The attention to fabrics and surfaces in the drawings and paintings of Moxy Hart reveal his background in fashion and decor. To him, men are exemplary models of a smooth elegant design. He delineates their contours and adds in the value shading with extra attention. As a result, his models may look over-manicured or even Photoshopped, but he’s concentrating on their allure rather than their texture. He envisions men with the eye of a lover. If you’ve ever sat and watched your beautiful partner as he sleeps, appreciating his beauty of his natural curves as he slumbers in the weak light of your bedroom, then you understand Moxy’s approach.
We didn’t include all of Moxy’s sensuous images here because you really should check out his gallery. It includes lightboxes, lots of sketches, and even penis mobiles. Plus, while perusing the gallery, we happened to catch a drawing of Reese Rideout (bottom picture). Well, it seems like we know where Moxy gets some of his inspiration.
Hat tip: Beautiful Mag
Cross Country
By Steve Prince
“I want you to leave.”
His voice sounded so final that it scared me. I began to open my mouth to counter Peter’s words.
He raised his hand to stop me. “I don’t want to hear it,” Peter said. “You should go.”
I hadn’t seen Peter looked so determined in a long time. Still I knew that face from high school; there was no arguing with him now. And besides, he was right, I should go. It was for the best…
Be sure to read part one of this column if you missed it last week. The Tipping Point
By Steve Prince
After hearing a crunch, I turned around just in time to see Peter’s fist pulling back from the guy’s face. Blood gushed down from the guy’s nose as Peter bounded back like a boxer waiting to strike again.
You’d think that blood pouring from your face might stop you from fighting, but not this guy. After being hit, he stepped back stunned and then lunged towards Peter, rage flooding his eyes. Thankfully, his friend wasn’t going to go after me.
“Jim!” he yelled grabbing his arms, “Stop! Don’t be a prick!”
“Peter!” I went to hold him back.
Peter turned at me and growled, “Don’t fucking touch me!”
I stood frozen. The intensity of his anger scared me.
“I’m sorry,” Jim’s friend called while trying to restrain the bleeding man. “He’s drunk and acting like an asshole.”
“Well, he should fucking know better,” Peter shouted. “I’m not a fucking fag!”
Tearing himself away, Jim adjusted his shirt and flexed his chest. “Get off me,” he said to his friend. “I don’t fucking need this. Fuck you, both.”
Peter began to move towards him, but this time I caught his arm.
Jim quickly ran off with his friend trailing behind and even in that moment I wanted to laugh at his cowardice. I tend to giggle when I get nervous. But judging from Peter’s face, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
The ride home was abysmal. Not only had Peter been drinking, but now he was furious. Everything I said to calm him down only riled him up. Finally I gave up and focused on driving. I just wanted to get home.
The Great Compromise
By Steve Prince
It took me a week to get him to say yes.
But he finally did.
“If it’s that important to you,” Peter said with a shrug, “then I’ll go.” He leaned forward and kissed me tenderly.
It was that important to me.
Even though I tried to forget it, the party from last week was still fogging up my mind. Troy had apologized for what he had said, and I apologized for not respecting his wishes. We were fine, but still the fog remained.
I couldn’t help but wander if there was any truth to Troy’s words. In my experience, the things people say during fights are so hurtful, so shocking, well, because the things they say are usually true.
Were Troy’s words true, was I pissed because Peter wasn’t “out enough”?
So that’s why I brought up going out in West Hollywood. I knew that would be a bit of a stretch for Peter. He had never been.
When I asked him if he wanted to go out with me and the boys, he scrunched up his adorable face as if some foul stench had wafted by him.
“Pleeease,” I begged, wrapping my arms around his waist and cradling his amazing bubble ass with my palms. I knew this would be weird for him, but we had been together for several months now.
“I dunno,” Peter began to backtrack.
