PARTY MASTER: Nine Important Things About Fire Island

Wednesdays at Justin + 6 are PARTY MASTER with Justin Luke Zirilli, the co-director of NYC's number one gay nightlife events company, BoiParty, and published author of the gay novel Gulliver Takes Manhattan and its recently released sequel, Gulliver Takes Five.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here.  

-----------------------------

The Summer is coming... and you know what that means!

Okay, maybe you don't. Some of you do. It means the gays pack up their man bags and start taking excursions to all the gay summer spots. This summer I'll be heading up to Provincetown for a week, and I couldn't be more excited. It'll be my first time there in over six years... and I probably should go, since my next novel, Gulliver Takes Provincetown is set there, and Google Maps isn't helping me cheat the story as much as I was hoping it would.

Another Summer Hot Spot (no pun intended... or maybe it was) is Fire Island. Have you ever been? You should. Everyone should check out Fire Island at least once. Many others should check it out many times. I, however, probably won't. Then again, I've been offered a bed to lay my weary pink glasses-wearing head in many a Pines and Grove share... so maybe I will. We shall see.

For those of you who HAVEN'T been to Fire Island, here are a few things you should know.

1. Don't Do A Day Trip
This is the worst thing in the world. Fire Island is a retreat. Go big, or go home. Nothing sucks more than taking the three-plus hour journey to Fire Island to get wasted, not have a place to crash, and then having to take the journey back home again. Find a hookup. Find a house. Grab a hotel room. Make a weekend of it. One day on Fire Island is not enough.

2. The Big Shit Happens on Weekends
Yes, Fire Island operates all summer long, but the weekdays are the slow time. Much of Fire Island's denizens are corporate New Yorkers. They come for the weekends, and then go back to work for the week. This means the parties and bars are all rather slow during the week days. The beaches are empty. Maybe you like this type of thing. If so, go. I, however, don't like quiet. No one who likes quiet lives in New York City. And, since I don't like quiet, I don't like Fire Island during the week.

3. Bring Lots of Condoms
Fire Island is basically a floating island of cock and tail. Something about all of that testosterone seeping out of the suntanning gays turns everyone into a walking hardon. Orgies are commonplace. Every house turns into a sex party. People fuck on the beach, on the boardwalk, in the bathrooms. It's just sex, sex, and more sex. If you and your boyfriend are monogamous, expect your relationship to be put through the wringer. Everyone is practically naked (or actually naked) and a lot of them are hotter than you and your boyfriend, and everyone will want both of you. Open up, or cling to each other for dear life and hope for the best.

4. Bring Money
Everything on Fire Island is expensive. Very expensive. And unless you want to hop into the Long Island Sound and swim to the nearest Sam's Club, you're going to be stuck paying eight dollars for a gallon of milk. Smart gays go grocery shopping and bring their groceries on the ferry with them. I guess that's smart, but I imagine your hands will be full of bags of condoms and ass-less bathing suits. So just expect to spend money.

5. Expect to See Familiar Faces
Fire Island really is Chelsea and Hell's Kitchen on the beach. Chances are that your neighbors in midtown will be renting the house next to you on Fire Island. Lots and lots of familiar faces. This is why I haven't gone in quite some time, and why I am going to Provincetown. Provincetown is more like Harvard and Princeton Gone Wild. New faces, new bodies, and whale watching! Either way, it's not necessarily a BAD thing seeing lots of familiar faces on Fire Island, minus the fact that any visiting traveler who everyone doesn't yet know will become Public Target Number One. Prepare to fight for your right to bottom.

BRING CONDOMS

  
6. Bring Sandles
FUCK those boardwalks get hot! No. Like. Sizzling. Bring comfortable footwear. I didn't one year. It was the worst time of my life. My feet still haven't fully healed.

7. Pines or Grove? Do Both!
Which gay part of Fire Island is the best? Every person has a different answer. Last year the difference was that the Pines' major party spot, Pavilion, had burned to the ground. That's no longer the case, and Tony Fornabaio, a NYC promotional heavyweight is in charge of Pavilion this year. It'll be a big deal.

If Tony is the King of the Pines, Daniel Nardicio is the King of the Grove. He'll be bringing a LOT of major names and parties out there. His weekly D*World underwear parties are the sexiest on earth (see number 3 above). You can expect to see celebrities performing including MARGARET CHO, CAROL CHANNING, CHITA RIVERA, and many others in Daniel's ICON Series (click here for details and tickets).

And, thankfully you can get back to the Pines or the Grove easily by ferry... or via "The Meatrack" which is a dark, quiet, spooky beach path through the woods where people fuck. If you choose the meatrack for your intra-FI travels, please see #3 above.)

8. Do It In Doses
I get bored very easily. For that reason, I do Fire Island infrequetly, and for short periods of time. I once went to stay with friends for a week and ended up coming home early. The same people, same bars, and same beach day after day (especially during the week when it got quiet) reminded me too much of home... and so why not just go back to NYC where I get better Wi-Fi?

9. Take a Trip to Provincetown
Fire Island is a great place. Everyone should go. After that, everyone should go to Provincetown. It's just as much of an adventure - train to Boston, ferry to Provincetown. You can also take a plane! Or drive many hours! But the reward, I think, is more interesting for a New Yorker. You'll see a lot less familiar faces. You'll get to eat fresh seafood. You'll get to spend a day in Boston. AND you can go WHALE WATCHING! Can you tell I like whales yet?

SHAMELESS MOMENTS: Daddies and Wolves

Mondays at Justin + 6 are now "SHAMELESS MOMENTS" with NYC gay nightlife promoter Shameless McGreedy. Expect absolutely anything from this new column, because you're probably going to get it.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here. 

---

This was my first weekend in a LONG time not going out on a Saturday or Sunday night.  What is wrong with me?  I guess when you have to throw parties on Monday and Tuesday, there is something said for being able to rest on the actual weekend.  Usually I take Wednesday evening off, and sometimes Thursday, but I reversed the order this week.

Well worth it, too.  I had a music gig yesterday, and it was one in which my wind quintet played “Peter and the Wolf,” music composed by Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev for a cheerful fairy tale, and our narrator was a 15-year old boy.  The audience: children who had been stricken by grief from the loss of a loved one.  It’s always nice to take a break from the life of partying and do something meaningful to brighten the lives of those who are hurting.  Another benefit: I made $200 doing so!

But back to the world of nightlife: it’s always exciting meeting new people!   You never know who you’re going to meet or have a second-degree connection to... specifically pertinent tonight: A friend of JL and myself, CockyBoy JD Phoenix, suggested having his friend Trenton Ducati dance at Playpen at The Cock tonight. MMMMM DADDY!  And JD is at TR!CK tomorrow, hosting with Amsterdam live porn actor Diego Summers after their cam show!  Ugh, I'm all hot and bothered now.  And that, my friends is where I leave this post... I’m going to go to the bathroom for a minute now so that I can "behave" myself tonight with Mr. Ducati on the bar. ;-)

THE BOTTOM LINE: How to Know When He's a Go: The 5 Steam Room Antics

Sundays at Justin + 6 are now THE BOTTOM LINE with the gorgeous gay Joshua Baker.  It's the  perfect companion to your boozy brunch.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here.

---

In the Gay world the gym is Eden and the steam room is the Serpent. The dim steamy room where all men come to be equal in the eyes of masturbation. We catch ourselves glancing that direction, but only the brave dare to venture into the foggy world of the gym steam room. For you courageous souls, I give you the tools to discover who is there to play and who just wants you to go away. Here are the Top 5 Signs a guy is ready for the steam room ho-down.

1. Private Eyes - are watching you. You know that guy. We all do. The one who cannot stop looking around the room. "Sir, I have seen you in this steam room a hundred times, you know exactly what it looks like." He is the guy staring you down before you even take a seat. You do your best to not make eye contact, but he is relentless. I remember one time I had my eyes closed and I could feel the stare of this large bear devouring me up and down. When he least expected it I jumped up and screamed like a banshee scaring the horny out of him. He left and I was finally able to rub one out in the privacy of my gym steam room.

2. The Water Boy - I love the Water Boy. Not the movie. Well the movie is good, but I'm talking about the guy who brings the massive bottle of water to the steam room. He definitely came prepared for overtime. Guys, the sign outside of the steam room tells you to not be "inappropriate" for more than 20-30 minutes. I remember once I hit the steam room after a particularly long day at the gym. The locker room was empty and the steam room appeared so as well. Thinking I had the room to myself I happily walked in, only to find Joe the regular posted up in the corner with a gallon jug of water. He was there for the long haul that day. Guys, if you see that water bottle, do not question it twice. He is ready and willing. Just make sure the token creeper in the room blocks the door for you. Don't worry he won't mind watching.

3. The Refresher - "Oh you're back!? I thought you had just showered?" When I moved to New York City, almost two years ago, I remember experiencing my first "refresher" steam room user. After he had nonchalantly used the shower four times in a matter of 15 minutes to cool down, I thought to myself I should either orally blow his penis shaped mind to save his life or I could call an ambulance because this homo has been here for awhile and he's about to keel over. The rule is, if the guy next to you in the steam room has has a towel that is soaking wet, assume he is a "Refresher", assume he has been there for way too long and assume he might pass out at any moment from dehydration. So avoid embarrassing yourself and bypass the shower obsessed steam room user. Otherwise as soon as he finishes you will be dealing with a man down and ain't nobody got time for that.

4. Mister Itchy - "Do you need a cream for that?" This guy cannot keep his hands off his crotch. It is literally like someone rubbed asbestos all over his willy, threw him in a pile of hay and said, "good luck." Mister Itchy is almost always combined with Private Eyes. He will always grab then look. Remember, grab then look. He is persistent. Waiting patiently for the poor victim who happens to catch Miister Itchies eyes. After the connection is made nature takes over and the itch gets scratched. This technique is by far the most effective, without a doubt. The grabbing show is the way to go especially if you are just looking to blow.

5. The Regular - No time wasted here. This guy pays a gym membership to immediately drop trou and wrap himself with a towel. Well all know this guy. He is almost always insanely well endowed and what's more noticeable is that even with all the time he spends at the gym he never loses any weight. The Regular spends 10 minutes on the treadmill and then hits the steam room for an hour. He encompasses all of the above antics. He has shifty eyes and a full water bottle that even has ice. He takes multiple showers throughout the hunting process and his penis never leaves his hand. The Regular is not there to play games. They mean business. So either put out or get out, because the steam room belongs to Mister Reggie on that day.

The reality is no matter what you do in the steam room someone is going to assume that you want to hook up with them. It's that one place, in the world of gays, where all that matters is one thing...the penis. Show it off, hide it away, shift it around, or leave it to stay, either way some one is their to play.

POLITICALLY ERECT: Watch Your Back, Spielberg!

Fridays at Justin + 6 are now POLITICALLY ERECT with Washington DC-based gay party guy, and creator and host of Swish Edition, R. Scott Wallis. Expect to be challenged. Expect to be offended. Opinions expressed here are Scott's, and Scott's alone.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here.

---


Tonight at 10:00pm Eastern Time, I’ll receive an email from the fine folks at the “24-Hour Film Race.” And then, like a starter pistol firing into the night air, my team and I will be off.

Teams from all over the world will have exactly 24 hours to write, cast, shoot, score, edit and upload a digital movie that can’t be longer than four minutes. And to insure that people will actually do all of that within the timeframe allowed, the organizers will be emailing each team a theme that has to be portrayed in the film, a prop that must appear, and an action that a character must perform.

It might be a theme such as forgiveness, a banana as a prop, and someone drinking soda from a can. I hate not knowing and I’ll be anticipating it all day.

So, no, I won’t be out drinking this Friday. After dinner (yeah, I’ll have a glass of wine or four), I’ll be writing late into the night, if last year was any indication. I’ll probably go over to JR’s Bar & Grill here in Washington, DC and head to the basement office to pow-wow with David Perruzza, the bar’s general manager. He’s a good sounding board and has tons of grand ideas.

I’ll listen to David, blow holes in everything that he says, then write it my way. And then tomorrow morning, my team of volunteer actors and crewmembers will meet at an undisclosed closed set (I could tell you, but I really can’t have the paparazzi showing up and ruining my shots), drink mimosas, and attempt to shoot the movie.

You’d think it would be easy to get four measly minutes of something substantial, but it’s actually pretty hard to tell a story in that amount of time.

Sure, YouTube is full of easily digestible short subjects that are entertaining and manage to say something. But for every video that gets a substantial amount of views (meaning it’s actually watchable), tens of thousands die a quick death (like my Film Race movie from last year). And to ultimately win the $12,000 prize, my team and I can’t just film ourselves dancing around in crazy costumes to the “Harlem Shake.” We have to say something.

Of course, we don’t really think we’ll win. We do it for fun. We do it for the race aspect of the contest. Under fire and under the gun! (Because if it weren’t for the time limit, we’d probably never finish it.) We’re not trained to use expensive HD video cameras. We taught ourselves how to piece footage together. And we use a lot of duct tape to make things stay put.

And, it should be noted, that none of my actors are actors. So, this should be fun.

If you want to see the silly comedy we came up with last year, when we were passed down the theme of ‘one,’ the prop of ‘one,’ and we had to show someone ‘listening to music,’ it’s here:



I’m kicking around some ideas for this year. I want to have at least an idea of what direction we’re going to go in. I know I want to try drama or suspense instead of comedy. And I want someone to die. Yes, I think someone definitely needs to die.

I just hope they don’t give me a banana to kill him with.

THE HORIZONTAL LIFE: The not-so-straight sexcursion (Part 2)

Thursdays are now THE HORIZONTAL LIFE, a bed-by-bed account of the sexual escapades of professional dancer and serial hottie Aaron J. Hooper.

Join him every Thursday for salacious tales - both his, and those of his sexy friends.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

I pressed my head against his hole and I sank. Inch by inch I slid into his tight hole, slowing when he tensed and pressing further when he released. Our bodies quickly synched and began a rhythm.

I watched closely as my throbbing cock slid slowly in and our of his hole, stretching him further with each thrust, his eyes rolling in the back of his skull as I watched his face from the mirror on the wall. The rhythmic timing of Rihanna’s “skin” overtook our bodies and, as his ass pressed further to my pelvic girdle, his back arched--My hands met his shoulders and I pulled him upright, bringing his soft lips to meet mine. His breath was deep and heavy with each thrust. His Body began to quiver and he exploded on the bed.

So soon, I thought... Unfortunate.

I began to pull out and he stopped me.

“You don’t want to continue?” He asked.

“It’ll hurt since you’ve cum already.” I said.

“Try me,” he gently spoke with a smirk on his face. I must say that I have never heard words so simple and so hot.

With that he threw this chest to the bed and gave his hole for my pleasure. I drilled him on all fours, slapped his ass until his cheeks turned red, and even inserted a prostate stimulator for a bit of double stuff action as he moaned into my pillows. His hands clawed at the sheets--I continued.

I pulled out and flipped him onto his back. His hole was gaping as he grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs into a full straddle split. I was in heaven. Without pause I slid into him once more, this time pressing as far as I could possibly go. His eyes met mine and i smiled down at him.

His legs wrapped around my waist and his arms around my neck as my hands wrapped his back. In one clean motion I rose to stand and began fucking him vertically. his small frame bounced against my pelvis with ease as his body craved my cock. As he continued his vertical exploit I began to slowly make my way to the bathroom. His head dodged the door frame as we entered and I sat myself down on the closed toilet seat. For the next twenty minutes he rode my dick...facing me, facing away, in a full forward fold...I was close.

I pressed him firmly against the sink as to watch his hole throb around my cock and his face in the mirror. His pelvis had full contact with the sink as his, once again, hard cock disappeared underneath the porcelain.

My head began to spin and my calves engaged, raising my body up to my toes in preparation for what was bound to be a huge load. In a split second, he pushed me back against the wall, pulled me out, dropped to his knees, stripped off the condom, and plunged my cock down his throat. I exploded and as the pulses came from my body I could see this throat move to swallow my load. 8 large pulses later he rose, mouth still full of unswallowed cum, and kissed me...we swapped me load between us as he began to jack his cock off again.

He motioned that he was close and I dropped to my knees. His cock was already wet from the prior cum, but I slid it into my mouth and he released...his cum was sweet and warm. I swallowed most and returned to his mouth to, once again, share the fluids. We showered. Many nights were shared in similar fashion.

PARTY MASTER: My Gay Nightlife Ten Commandments

Wednesdays at Justin + 6 are PARTY MASTER with Justin Luke Zirilli, the co-director of NYC's number one gay nightlife events company, BoiParty, and published author of the gay novel Gulliver Takes Manhattan and its recently released sequel, Gulliver Takes Five.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here.  

-----------------------------

Everyone should live by a code of ethics - it's what separates us from the animal kingdom... at least I think so. Have scientists discovered that animals have codes of ethics yet? Someone let me know about that one so I don't embarrass myself here.

In Gay Nightlife, a moral/ethical code is extremely necessary. It's very easy to slip up in this after-hours world. The drugs. The sex. The Godfather-like power plays and alliances. And, while there is a small number of Joke Promoters and Personalities who comport themselves like slugs and vermin, there is, thankfully, a larger portion of Ethical Promoters and Personalities who have their own personal rules they abide by.

We put rules in our world, since it doesn't come with rules in it by default. There are promoters, for example, will not ban someone from his events unless he calls them first on the phone to discuss it with them. Others refuse to let people cut lines at their parties. Michael Cohen won't throw a party at a venue near a friend, especially on a night that they throw a party already.

And then there's me... here is my code of ethics:

1. I don't strike, I strike back.
I get along with a majority of the people in nightlife. I've been told I'm known as "The Nicest Guy In Nightlife." I like that! I think it's because I immediately respect any nightlife person I meet. Furthermore, I never fire the first shot. I won't go after someone's employees, or club, or party. I don't pick fights. But, it's important that I not be a push-over, as well. That's where the firing back part comes in. If you take a swipe at me, I'll swipe back. If you steal a host, I'll steal two of yours. If you throw a party that's directly aimed at mine, I will ramp up the competition until your party crumbles into dust and you're out on the street. 

2. I NEVER Make Personal Attacks.
This one is tough. People like to go for the jugular when coming for me. It's usually involving my weight. Despite that, I will NEVER personally attack someone. I may find you unattractive. I may know you're a drug-addicted mess. I may have heard all sorts of things people scorned by you let out in moments of anger. Doesn't matter. I will never personally attack you. Will I tell someone your party did poorly and no one went? Sure, if I know it to be true. Will I tell someone you are an asshole that lies and cheats? Only on the professional level. Never the personal.

3. I Don't Send Spies.
If I want to know how your event did, I'll either go myself, or ask people I know that appeared in your event's photographs. What is this, World War II? I don't need spies. Plus, anyone I would even want to spy is already known by everyone to be a friend... so some spy that would be.

4. I Support Parties I Like.
There's a lot of confusion in nightlife. People think I throw a lot of parties that I'm not at all involved with. That's because I am happy to offer support, guidance, and assistance to those who throw parties I know are high quality. I'll host at your party. I'll tag myself there and take lots of photos so that people know how great the party is. I'll support parties that aren't even there yet, if I can see a spark of something great in them. Bonus: You don't have to give me free drinks or entry or any of that shit, either. I'll do it because it's the right thing to do.

5. Forgiveness is Always An Option.
No one is evil - I really do believe that. I am always willing to forgive. Not necessarily forget, but certainly the forgiveness part.

6. I Don't Lie.
If my party isn't packed, I won't say that it was. And, if I say it's packed, I'll prove it with photos and videos. The one party I didn't believe in I quit many months ago. When I tell you to go somewhere, it's because it's amazing, and I believe in it.

7. I Always Attend My Own Events.
In my opinion, if an event isn't fun enough for its own staff to attend... why does it exist? I am at each and every one of my parties from an hour before we open the doors to an hour after we close them. There's work to be done, and I'm proud of our product.

8. I Take Care of My People.
If you host for me, I'll recommend you around. If you gogo for me, and someone contacts me looking for a go-go boy for a private party, you'll get a call. If you work for BoiParty, you are a part of a huge family that takes care of each other and helps each other out.

9. Overtip The Bartender.
I am always willing to buy my own drinks, but I am often given free drinks when I go out. That's fine. I tip the bartender, at minimum, $5 per drink. That way, everyone wins. I drink for cheap, and the bartender goes home with more coin.

10. Always Say Thank You.
Whether you got me in free, gave me a free drink, or even just showed up to my party, I will thank you. No one should expect VIP treatment, or a packed event full of hot guys, therefore they should be appreciated.

SHAMELESS MOMENTS: Jury Duty Dance-Off

Mondays at Justin + 6 are now "SHAMELESS MOMENTS" with NYC gay nightlife promoter Shameless McGreedy. Expect absolutely anything from this new column, because you're probably going to get it.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Six on Facebook here. 

---


This post comes to you after a week during the first half of which I was exhausted from having a double-decker sandwich of my weekly parties between thick slices of jury duty.  You can sure bet I wished those slices were something else!  I will tell you, however, that Playpen and TR!CK were definitely the highlight of those three days – heaps of hot drunk boys in underwear with a side of sloppy sauces. ;-)  And now, since we broke records for Mondays at the Cock, I’ve decided that we are going to have a photo shoot with some of the sexy boys of Playpen.  I love my (nightlife) job!

I haven’t decided if I’d rather write about jury duty or nightlife, so let me do that now.  I did make some important daylife connections at jury duty, but since those may be more mundane for the reader of this blog, I’ll write about nightlife.    This, however, will have a moral twist.

This week I attended Catwalk for the second week in a row.  It’s a Thursday party at Marquee by Susanne Bartsch.   She throws this party because she realizes that not all of us can be as sexy as the boys at 20Something Thursdays, so the theme is crazy outfits instead.

At this party, I had won a dance-off after stopping by 20Something the previous week, so this week I had to compete in the dance-off finals.  To my chagrin, I did not even make it past the first round of the finals, and moreover, someone that I had bested the previous week was the one to best me this week!  Understandably, I was affected.  I mean, who DOESN’T want $200 AND a bottle of vodka?  $75 and a bottle the previous week was most definitely not enough!

In all seriousness, I was disappointed in myself.  As a competitive Irish dancer and a competitive person by nature, I was upset that I didn’t do better.  After talking with some of my friends that evening, I finally realized that you can only do what you know how to do.  Sometimes doing that might not please the crowd, but you have to just be satisfied knowing that you did your best and that’s good enough.  Investing the time into your craft, profession or hobby with the goal of improving, as well as spending time with those who support you, is what really matters.

So not to end on a somber note... I hope to see all of you at Playpen for JD Phoenix on Monday and TR!CK for the Out-Fit Challenge (LGBT mud run) event on Tuesday this week!  You know how I do... ;-)

MEET JOSHUA BAKER!

Sundays at Justin Plus Six will be shaken up by the controversial mind of Joshua Baker. His mother used to call him "The Judge," his father called him "smartass," and his friends just call him "loud." With his infectious smile, delightful sense of humor, and sexy goofball demeanor Joshua has taken over Manhattan with a swift Southern style.

Joshua was born and raised in the heart of Memphis, Tennessee. After graduating from the University of Mississippi with a degree in Musical Theater he moved to Dallas, Texas to follow love, art, and sunny weather. After realizing fairy tales don't exist he packed his bags, left Dixie Land, and moved to the Big Apple. Two years later New York has made him happier than he could have ever imagined. From gracing BoiParty posters with his BFF, writing for top fashion publications and working for Tony Award winning directors his life in New York has been simply...a blessing.

From an innocent southern beau to an open-minded sex pot New York has shown him a world beyond rules and tradition. Surrounded by love he has found his voice. When he isn't working or being a Manhattan social butterfly, Joshua spends his free time getting involved with charity events such as The AIDS Walk, Bike New York, GMHC, ASPCA and Race for the Cure. His extensive traveling, well rounded family life and thirst for worldly knowledge provides his platform for strong opinions and out-spoken demeanor. Basically, this boy has a mind he can't wait to share and that's...The Bottom Line.

You can catch Josh here every Sunday for "The Bottom Line" or find him on Instagram, Twitter, and Vine @TheJoshuaBaker.

Or visit him on Facebook.

OUTWEAR: Sock It To Me

This is the final column of OUTWear by our lovely couture creature, Idan Bail. Thanks to Idan for a wonderful series of fashion-forward fracas. 

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

I'm finally working what I'd like to call a big boy job. I have to wear a suit and look professional five days a week. Patterned shirts or boldly colored ties are against the dress code. Fuck. I literally cringe when getting dressed in the morning.

I know it sounds like a silly thing to complain about, but for someone who finds joy in dressing, it is really tough  not being able to wear something that expresses my personality.

Thankfully I found a way to sneak some flair into my new office style. One word. Socks. Luxurious and beautifully crafted socks made in Italy from the finest Egyptian cotton.

Byshari stripped socks, my favorite, are a great way to slip in a pop of color without going over the top. There are styles and color combinations to suit every kind of guy out there. From the traditionalist man who favors classic colors like black, white, grey, and burgundy to the traveling voyager who loves jet setting colors like teal, purple, red, and yellow. Even the urban adventurer can find his way in our bustling urban metropolis in fashion forward color combinations like pink, orange, and sky blue.

Byshari socks will up the ante on any ensemble and 'improve your socks life' one step at a time.

For more information and to purchase these amazing socks visit www.socksbyshari.com

TOP CHEF: Cheesecake Strawberries

Saturdays at Justin + 6 are TOP Chef with our own answer to Paula Deen (minus the diabetes and obesity): our gorgeous gay southern belle, Jason Elliott. 

Want to share a recipe for him to feature? Feel free to drop him a line!

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

-----------------------------

So we are breaking from the booze this week and opting for a super simple, super scrumptious, super summer-y, super sexy dessert: Strawberry Cheesecake. But, who has time or patience to make a whole cake? Not this guy! That’s why this week, we are putting the cheesecake inside the strawberries and calling it a day.

I came across this dessert randomly on some blog a few weeks back and fell in love. I just had to share it with you guys because it is such an adorable twist on a classic dessert. So, without further adieu…

 
What you will Need:

Fresh Strawberries

8oz. Cream Cheese

3-6 Tblspn Powder Sugar

1 Tspn Vanilla Extract

Crushed Graham Crackers

 
What you will Do:

First wash your strawberries and core them. This can be done with a knife or an actual coring tool. The important thing is to make as much room in the middle of the strawberry as possible, without breaking the outer layer of fruit. Then, in a mixing bowl, combine cream cheese, powdered sugar, and vanilla until smooth. You are now ready to fill the strawberries. To do this, either pipe the filling into them, or simply spoon the mixture in, like I do in the video. Then come the final touches of a few sprinkles of crushed graham crackers on the top. Throw them in the fridge until ready to serve.



And there you have it! A simple alternative to a big cheesecake. Serve these as a dessert, sweet hors d’oeuvres, or a special treat for those special times… if you know what I mean. ;) For an extra kick of excitement, add some chocolate syrup before filling with the cream cheese. Yummmmmmm!

I hope you guys enjoy this sweet treat! Next week, well… you’ll just have to see what we come up with. Truth be told, it’s a mystery to me too. So, if you have any ideas, always feel free to let me know!

Much love and strawberry fields forever,
Jason

POLITICALLY ERECT: Getting Old Won’t Kill Ya… Well, Eventually It Will

Fridays at Justin + 6 are now POLITICALLY ERECT with Washington DC-based gay party guy, and creator and host of Swish Edition, R. Scott Wallis. Expect to be challenged. Expect to be offended. Opinions expressed here are Scott's, and Scott's alone.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

I’m not afraid to get old. Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be 26 forever, but since I passed that enviable age 18 years ago, and I can no longer get away with lying and saying that I’m 29, I’m embracing 43.

Fuck! Forty-fucking-three! How did that happen? Where’d all that time go? I haven’t even decided what I want to be when I grow up!

Before you stop reading (because you’re one of Justin’s pretty boy 20-somethings), you too are going to be 43 some day. And trust me, it doesn’t have to suck. I’ve honestly had an amazing life. I’ve played hard. I’ve worked hard. I’ve lived hard. And I haven’t slowed down very much. If you keep moving—like that old adage about a rolling stone gaining no moss—theoretically, you should be able to keep doing what you’ve done all along.

Theoretically. But, here’s how I see it at 43:

 
ALCOHOL
As an avid drinker, I can keep up with the youngins. Actually, I’m probably better at it than the frugal guys that drink rail vodka or cheap ass beer. I go for the premium stuff and trust, I feel much better in the morning. (And I’ll echo Justin’s frequent advice…water, water, water. Between and after. A lot of it. Your body will thank you.)

Stop drinking $5 lattes from Starbucks and put that cash towards decent spirits. You’ll be much better for it.

 
CLUBBING
Think it’s sad to see an older dude dancing like a fool with his friends amongst all the sweaty, shirtless twinks on the dance floor? Too bad. We don’t really care what you think all that much. Although, I will agree that I’ve seen dudes that really have no business being out there, and I feel sorry for them. Especially if they are alone. Believe me, I’d never dance alone unless I was a gorgeous 23 year old. So, I guess I use my dancing judgment on a case by case basis. Big group of friends my age feeling good and liking the track? We’ll dance.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt to be a semi-famous gay. Semi-famous gays can get away with a lot more as they age because it’s kind of their job to be out and be seen. (Ha! Who am I kidding. That only works for me here in Washington, DC or if I’m glued to Justin Luke or Sherry Vine in NYC. But you get my gist.)

I don’t go out every night and close the clubs. But when I do, I do it right. And there’s always lots of eye candy.

 
DIRTY OLD MEN
I too have to deal with dirty old men when I’m out and about. Just last week a 60-something grabbed my ass in a bar and asked me if my “…hole was receptive.” Oh. My. God. The nerve.

I laughed. Took his hand off my ass. And explained very calmly but sternly that, no, my ass was closed and that I didn’t appreciate being touched. He slinked away and I promised myself I’d never be THAT guy. Sure, I look at guys younger than me, but I never approach them. There are plenty of dudes my own age to hang out with. However, they do come on to me. Thank God for 21 year olds that like daddies.

(Wait. Did I just call myself a daddy? Ugh. I’m more like a semi-mature otter.)

 
SEX
Sex is like riding a bike. You never forget how to do it. And if you get to a point where your dick doesn’t do what you want it to do, there are amazing pills on the market that…POW…pump that shit up so that it looks like high school all over again. No one even has to know. That is unless you take too much and have an erection that last for four or more hours and you end up in the emergency room. (You’ve seen the commercials.)

I feel sorry for my friends of all ages who think that sex ends at 30. That no one will want to fuck them when they have a little bit of grey. That they’ll be the last one standing when the lights come on in the club. That they’ll have to jerk off for the rest of their life because the six pack is gone and there’s hair where hair never grew before.

It doesn’t need to end. You might have to get more creative to find fuck buddies, but trust me, they’re out there. There’s someone for everyone. There are young and old guys alike who will want you. Don’t believe me, Google ‘old gay guys.’ They’re still getting busy.

 
FRIENDS
Most of my friends are in their late-30’s or early- to mid-40’s and we’re all having a ball. Some are in long-term relationships and some are single. Some are fairly asexual and a few are total sluts. I also have a good number of friends who are in their late-20’s and early-30’s, and those kids keep the rest of us on our toes.

One of the best things you can do is to have a wide range of friends. Girls, boys, gays, straights, old, young. If all of your friends look exactly like you and are your same age, I think you’re living a very sheltered life.

What I’m looking forward to is growing older with my core group of friends. Maybe you’re scared to face 40 or 50, but if you have a loyal group of likeminded friends to face it with together, everyone will be okay. I can just imagine all of us being as silly and as dirty as we are now. We’ll have more money and we’ll be able to go on more exotic vacations, too! We’ll all retire to Ft. Lauderdale and sit on the patio with our cocktails and talk about our ailments and the hot dudes we saw at the beach that day. We may play bingo every now and then, but we’ll also talk about who’s doing who and who’s got the bigger cock. Why would we stop?

I decided to write about getting older—or being older in the gay nightlife world, in particular—because of two things: First, my friends and I just had a conversation about it last week and we all agreed that it wasn’t going to be all that bad if we did it together. (Well, everyone except my Swish Edition podcast co-host Steve, who plans to off himself at 50 years old, the poor guy.) And, two, because I was around a 30 year old friend of mine late last week who reminded me about the guy I never wanted to become, and luckily never have become. He stated that he won’t have sex with anyone older than himself or with someone that doesn’t have a perfect, workout body. And he’s stressing about getting old too quickly and aging out of the hip, cool, fun world of being a footloose and fancy free gay dude in America today.

And I say…that never HAS to happen. Life is what you make it. And you can make it awesome...with a little help from your friends. And Cialis.

THE HORIZONTAL LIFE: The not-so-straight sexcursion

Thursdays are now THE HORIZONTAL LIFE, a bed-by-bed account of the sexual escapades of professional dancer and serial hottie Aaron J. Hooper.

Join him every Thursday for salacious tales - both his, and those of his sexy friends.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

The moonlight shone through the bedroom window, illuminating his freshly tanned, olive skin. His light iris’s glistened with youthful exuberance as I rested my body gently atop his. I could feel his breath quicken and mine followed suit--it isn’t everyday that one gets to experience the unexplored flesh of a self-proclaimed straight boy. My lips sank into his clavicle, producing a gentle moan. His thighs tensed and his knees bent as my facial hair tickled his raw skin..the pleasure he was feeling was palpable and, to his amazement, would soon be unimaginable.

I met Samuel Barks at a production of Newsies. In this situation I would use “met” very loosely as I truly mean I drooled while staring at him flip, leap, and turn his way from start to finish of the production. He played no lead role and didn’t have a single spoken line, but the way he moved his body spoke to me in a way that moved my heart...and my penis. After salivating through the 2 hour production I waited for him in the lobby hoping that A) he would come out to greet people B) He was gay and single (and interested) and C) his mother wasn’t the person waiting to greet him and would make the entire situation awkward. I didn’t learn the answer to any of these questions on that lovely fall day and so I switched to the second game plan--Fuckbook, or facebook if we plan on being PC.

Being the eco-friendly being I am, I dislike the usage of take-home, hard copy playbills: HOWEVER, when one is trying to stalk cast members they are essential. The number of times I have made a connection from stalking a boy from a playbill is countless. I immediately found him, added him, and sent him a congratulatory message (one that, of course, mentioned how good his dancing was, how hot his ass was, and how much I would enjoy a cup o’ joe with him)

One week.

Two weeks.

Response.

“Thank you so much for coming to see the show. Always such a pleasure to hear from people who enjoy your work. I don’t know your intentions with coffee, but if it is completely friendly I would consider it.”

“Completely friendly, of course. Sandy’s brew house tomorrow at 1 pm. I will be studying for my finals...join me for a bit.” I fell asleep smiling. I have heard “just friendly” often and know that in gay terms it often means “I will friendly show you mine if you show me yours”. Such a fun game.

I sat at Sandy’s pretending to study while keeping my eyes glued to the front door. 230 rolled around and I began to pack up. Not three minutes after I began to pack I heard him, like a siren song calling a captain to his demise, “leaving already?”

My eyes met his and I was hooked. Over the next four hours we talked about everything from dance to politics: love to spirituality. He spoke with as much eloquence as he danced and I knew I would be very blessed to experience more time with him.

“I have a girlfriend” he exclaimed as we were preparing to part. My heart sank, of course the one “perfect” guy who I seemed to click well with was not into me or rather was not in a place to be into me. I requested another gathering and he agreed it’d be nice. For the next 3 weeks we met regularly: anytime we had free time we would grab food, coffee, or simple hang out.

On wednesday of the fourth week he came to watch Alice in Wonderland at my house...the sexual tension was remarkable, but I had long since given up on the idea of pursuing anything with him. We sat on separate couches and all was completely friendly. After the movie I walked him to the door, said our farewells, and he was off like normal. I shut the door, turned off the lights and went to get ready for bed. Five minutes later he called, “Are you asleep? I need to talk really quickly”. I opened the front door and there he stood, emotionally distraught yet beautiful as always. He extended his arms and I leaned in for what seemed to be an offer for a hug. I received, instead, a kiss. Long, deep, passionate, and extended.

I melted and so did he.

We began to see each other as more than friends and shared another entire month of building sexual tension.

He slammed my back into the front door when we arrived to my house, his arms firmly pressed against my shoulders as his lips met mine. Our bodies fit perfectly against one another and his hands began to explore my toned abs. This was unlike any kiss we had shared in the past two months, I could tell he was ready to experiences the pleasures that my body could give him and the rock hard penis that now rested in his hand indicated that I too was ready. I fumbled with the keys as his hands gripped my ass, his touch was so curious--I begin to question whether he was just a virgin with men or a complete virgin.

We stumbled up my stairs, keeping contact the entire time. Kissing, fondling, and even managing to get my pointer finger into his ass (nothing a little spit won’t do). We arrived in my room and the clothing began to fly off...shirts, shoes, pants, socks. Standing in just our underwear we kissed: our lips firmly pressed against one another as our penises pressed against each others thighs. My hands ventured to his buttocks, feeling the firm, round dancer ass that he possessed and then moved to the front. I began to pray for what I so love and as my hand made contact I instantly knew my prayers were answered. Uncut and huge.

He moved toward the bed and sat, his tongue experiencing every rippling muscle on my body before settling. His hands removed my underwear as his lips continued to explore the area around the base of my penis. When it finally became exposed he took a moment to think, moving his head away from my body to take in the full view, looking up at me as if to ask for permission, and then opening his mouth and doing what seemed to come naturally. My hands rested on his shoulders as he pleased me with his inexperienced mouth. He made several attempts at complete deepthroat and gagged every time, producing a thick back-of-the-throat saliva which felt amazing to be stroked with.

I pressed his shoulders back and laid him flat on the bed, lifted his legs, and stared into his slightly hairy, untouched hole (I won’t count the finger from earlier as being touched). I massaged his cheeks apart as he lay moaning, my thumbs always making contact with his anus at the end of the circular massaging motion. I spread his legs wide and dropped to my knees. His foreskin naturally pulled back, revealing his slightly red head. I licked it gently and his body relaxed. For the next 20 minutes I moved from his hard dick to his anus with my mouth. Licking, stroking, gently biting, sucking, penetrating with my tongue, and poking. I ended the oral pleasure kissing his thighs, moving to his calves, and eventually sucking his toes.

My dick made contact with his bare hole, his small hair felt rough and exciting against my head. While continuing to suck his toes I began to tease his hole, spiting to loosen it up, gently pressing, and penetrating “just the tip”. I reached for a condom out of my pants pocket and handed it to him. “Put it on me,” I said.

He did as I told and then returned to the bed, on all fours this time instead of on his back. The sight of his hole spread wide made my blood pulse harder. I climbed to him, gave one final lick on his hole, and then spread a generous amount of lube on my dick and gave the rest to him. I jacked off for a moment as he lubed himself up, sliding his fingers gently in and out of his hole. When he felt ready I approached. I made contact with my large cock and felt his body tense--I massaged his lower back for a moment and he released. I could see the folds of his anus pressing out and I knew he was loosening up and ready for me.

I pressed my head against his hole and I sank. Inch by inch I slid into his tight hole, slowing when he tensed and pressing further when he released. Our bodies quickly synched and began a rhythm.

To enjoy the rest of this story read on next week! Please feel free to comment or provide feedback if you have anything to say!

PARTY MASTER: Me-Too Tuesdays

Wednesdays at Justin + 7 are PARTY MASTER with Justin Luke Zirilli, the co-director of NYC's number one gay nightlife events company, BoiParty, and published author of the gay novel Gulliver Takes Manhattan and its recently released sequel, Gulliver Takes Five.
-----------------------------

New York City nightlife seems to have found itself at a point of over-saturation. Every bar and club wants a party, and every promoter wants to throw that party. What you end up with seems to be what's happening now: a million-billion parties thrown by a mix of people you love, hate, and a bunch of people you've never heard of.

Is there room for everyone? Technically, yes. There are bars and clubs and rooftops and brunch spots as far as the eye can see. But that doesn't mean there's actually room for everyone.

Why do you think you see parties pop up suddenly, only to disappear off the map two or three weeks later?

Super-Saturation, friends.

In the world we live in right now in New York City gay nightlife, what you're seeing is Darwin's Survival of the Fittest in overdrive.

Parties appear and disappear just as quickly. You decide you'll go check out an event, only to discover it was shuttered weeks ago.

And it doesn't look like this trend is anywhere near over.

To have a party that takes wing, and plants itself firmly in its venue, you need a few things:

1. Creativity.
There are a lot of parties that have risen up recently that are clearly plagiarized. It's like when a movie comes out that makes a lot of money, and then, six months later, ten more movies clearly shaped to be LIKE that movie come out. A majority of those Me-Too's fail miserably. Same happens with a Me-Too Party. There can only be one iPhone. If you're going up against a major and successful event, you had better bring your A-Game. Be different. Be daring. You won't necessarily beat the monster, but you'll certainly pay your bills. If all you do is copy, no one will even notice you are there.

2. Strong Promotion.
You can't just post a flyer a few times and hope for success. If you do, then you don't have much of a chance. Be creative (there's that word again) and form a strong team, and prepare to get your hands dirty. It's not easy. It's fun, but it's not easy.

3. Support. 
Team up with other power-players. Don't hog the spotlight and claim full credit. No one likes a diva.

And in the end, you need to understand the following most of all: you can't trick people, and crowds bring crowds.

You can scream and shout all you want, but, when the gays of NYC make their decision, you've got your work cut out for you if you want to change their minds. Bring that creativity, strong promotion, and support... and maybe you'll take a bite out of them.

But that creativity thing: that's the biggest part. Be original. Have your own ideas. Take a risk. Don't rehash or copy or imitate. If something's already been done, or is being done, doing it too is not going to help you one bit.

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery... it's also one of the dumbest things you could ever do - you flatter your competitor, and then you fail, too.

So create and launch your party with integrity. And honor. And respect for other promoters and parties.

Or, you know, don't... but don't be surprised when people get a bad taste in their mouths when your name and party is mentioned.

It's up to you. Spring is here. Summer is coming.

Let the Hunger Gaymes begin. Let's see who's left standing when the dust clears.

xo,
JL

SHAMELESS MOMENTS: A Shameless Day

Mondays at Justin + 7 are now "SHAMELESS MOMENTS" with NYC gay nightlife promoter Shameless McGreedy. Expect absolutely anything from this new column, because you're probably going to get it.

---

I titled this blog “Shameless Moments” because I thought I might be writing about moments from my experiences in nightlife that were truly shameless.  Trust me, there are plenty!  But then I realized, “My name is Shameless, so with this blog title, I can write about whatever I want!”  As it turns out, the series of today’s events have been truly quotidian elements of my life, so I thought this entry would serve as a good introduction to Shameless.  Apparently, a lot of people don’t know that I’m smart and thoughtful... maybe this blog will enlighten them, and maybe not.  I’m ok being perceived as a sex-crazed fiend who thinks about nothing but booze and ass.

On that note, this morning I woke up around 10:30, which is sometimes usual, sometimes not.  It’s usual if my drangover (drunk-hangover) headache and dry mouth make it impossible to sleep anymore, and unusual if I didn’t drink the night before.  Wait... so rephrasing that: my usual awakening time.  I can’t sleep more than 6 hours in my old age, unless I drive myself to crashing, or I force myself (read: have a boy with me) to remain in bed for hours past noon.

I had a quintet rehearsal to get ready for, so I made sure to watch some porn and jerk off before rehearsal.  Then – DAMN! Both my roommates decided to shower.  So much for getting ready on time!  My flute player arrived at my apartment before the rest of the group (make all the puns you like; he has a boyfriend), so I had him be my doorman while I took my post-cum shower.  We had a six-hour dinner rehearsal.

They left, and it was time to check Facebook, promote for my Monday night at the Cock and my Tuesday night at Hardware Bar, and also write this blog entry.  Upon seeing all the amazing posts on Facebook about Michael Cohen’s Summer Camp, I was sorely saddened that I would be unable to go out tonight due to my jury duty obligations in the morning.  Add to this the fact that I was for some reason sexually frustrated despite my attention this morning to FraternityX.com (say what you will – douchey, intoxicated “straight” guys can still make hot porn), and you get a sum that equals Shameless beside himself.

I decided to drink alone, at home, to be with all of the Cinco de Mayo revelers, even if only in spirit.  The only alcohol present in my personal stores was a half-empty bottle of cheap prosecco that I took home from the Cock after our New Year’s Eve toast, so off to the liquor store I went.  WHO CLOSES A LIQUOR STORE BEFORE 9PM?  Yes, I know it’s Sunday.  So instead, I went to the bodega to buy orange juice for my not-yet-stale-but-certainly-flat prosecco and make myself a mimosa since brunch had been an impossibility today.

And yes, I’m drinking that sweet mimosa in a martini glass now as I simultaneously write this blog and take advantage of the 25% off Freshpair sale online, before I make the dreaded call to the courthouse to get my instructions for tomorrow.  I really should have reported to jury duty one of the first two times they sent the summons.  Don’t they know that being a grad student, a hospitality worker, a musician, AND a promoter makes me too busy for the City of New York?

Yes, Shameless moments.  Late to rise, late to rehearsal, late to the party, late to sex, late to the underwear sale, and late to the courthouse.  But at least this entry is on time!

MEET SHAMELESS MCGREEDY

Mondays at Justin Plus Seven are now SHAMELESS MOMENTS, penned by gay NYC promoter Shameless McGreedy.

Shameless McGreedy was born in a nondescript city that nobody cares about in upstate New York.... well, actually, that’s where his body was born. Shameless was birthed here in Manhattan when a boy who used to be quite overweight wanted a little bit of attention for his newfound, New York body, now free from his recent Texan past and pounds. He became involved in boylesque thanks to some friends, and having been a lover of things Irish for quite some time, he chose a stage name reminiscent of his favorite culture. Shameless became a go-go boy, a bar tender, and subsequently a host and promoter. The name and persona stuck, the go-go dancing did not, and Shameless now throws and hosts parties for NYC’s boys to have all sorts of fun, free of judgment and ...shame. (Lord knows he’ll never have the body of the dancers who now work with him!)

Shameless Moments is a blog in which Shameless will enumerate his adventures in New York City nightlife, reflect upon his musings in various topics in gaydom, and make rash, shameless statements about anything he pleases.

POLITICALLY ERECT: Coming Out Media Blitzes – So Over ‘Em

Fridays at Justin + 6 are now POLITICALLY ERECT with Washington DC-based gay party guy, and creator and host of Swish Edition, R. Scott Wallis. Expect to be challenged. Expect to be offended. Opinions expressed here are Scott's, and Scott's alone.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

So you’re a big old fag. Great. Now shut up and do your job.

I guess I’m bitter. It was always a no-brainer for me to be gay and be out and be proud. I never worried about not getting or keeping a job because of my sexuality. I decided early on that if they didn’t want me because I liked boys instead of girls, then I didn’t need to work there.

And I didn’t care much what my friends and family thought either. I knew I was loved for who I was, not who I loved. (Of course, I lucked out. The family is very accepting and I can only think of a handful of people who distanced themselves from me because I was gay. Turns out I didn’t need them anyway.)

Of course, I realize that it’s difficult for many people. I know that millions have struggled and continue to struggle with the feeling that they can’t be the person that they are inside. I get it, but it makes me mad. I don’t understand how a man can “fall in love” with a woman, get married, have children, and be content not to act on the feelings that he has for other dudes. I don’t understand the priest who takes a vow of chastity and lives his life serving God, while secretly visiting bathhouses or hooking up on Grindr. I don’t get the guy who spends his whole life as a confirmed bachelor, hanging out with his super macho straight friends, shying away from anything and everything gay, and then sitting alone in his room at night jerking off to gay porn or having phone sex with some dude he met online.

I’ve personally met the three types of guys I just described above.

I think it’s sad that those guys feel that they can’t be out and proud and spend time with people they want to spend time with. Living a lie has got to suck. Or not suck, as the case may be. It’s a recipe for a life of misery and regret.

We all know about the stigma that still hangs over professional sports in this country. Homophobia runs rampant. There’s the perceived notion that the teammates, owners, coaches, and fans won’t accept a gay player. And a lot of that may very well be true despite companies like Nike and team owners like Mark Cuban, who have stood up to publically say, “we welcome gay players!”

Even President Obama congratulated our first gay athlete.

The media attention surrounding Monday’s coming out of NBA star Jason Collins has been everywhere this week. For one, it was a nice break from the 24/7 Boston bombings stories, but at the same time, I wish we wouldn’t have to cover this at all. Yes, it was big news because it was the first time that an active player in one of the big, male, professional sports leagues came out publically. I get it. But in a perfect world, it would just be no one’s damned business.

And, he was soooooo not the first. Just the first to say it out loud to a national publication.

Let me tell you, the ladies over at the WNBA must be up in arms. They get no respect. Half of them are lesbians and no one gives a shit.

But maybe that’s the point. Maybe we shouldn’t give a shit. You’re gay? So what? Work on your free throws.

I think what Jason Collins did was great for the gay community. We need more athletes, politicians, movie stars, and journalists to come out. Visibility is very important. We also need more mechanics, teachers, architects, and veterinarians to come out, too.

But I’m still hoping for the day in my lifetime when someone sexuality is just another trait like their hair color or weight or shoe size. It just shouldn’t matter.

HORIZONTAL LIFE: Mile High Mayhem (Part 2)

Thursdays are now THE HORIZONTAL LIFE, a bed-by-bed account of the sexual escapades of professional dancer and serial hottie Aaron J. Hooper.

Join him every Thursday for salacious tales - both his, and those of his sexy friends.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

30 minutes into the flight I pressed my feet under his seat. He must have had the same idea because when our feet made contact a footsies battle began. Before I knew it a piece of paper appeared against the mutual window sill. I grabbed it and the conversations began. We shared out information, what we did (he was a flight attendant for the airline who was flying to a transfer), and what we wanted to do to each other. The cuteness of middle school notes will forever be altered in my memory.

The flight landed and I de-boarded and headed straight for our suggested meeting point.

The bathroom had been freshly cleaned and smelled of bleach and an arrangement of citrus. I entered the handicapped stall (I give thanks for handicapped stalls daily: have you ever tried to have sex in a “normal” stall?) and shut the door, no lock. Within minutes I heard shuffling from outside the door. His knuckles made contact with the stall and the door began to creep open.

At only 5’6” his petite stature heightened his cuteness as he stood in front of me, clothed from head to toe in his flight attendant garb. The door shut and was quickly locked and my hands quickly met the top of his button down. Our lips made contact and buttons began to quickly become undone: His hands were already magnetized to my concealed, throbbing penis..a true worshipping bottom.

I removed his shirt to unveil a freshly shaven set of abs and highly defined chest. My mouth diverted from mouth to right nipple quickly as he through his head back and began the lovely moaning which would only grow and, I am sure, drove other patrons of the bathroom wild. He successfully undid my pants and they fell to my ankles, brought his face back to meet mine for a quick kiss, squatted to the floor, opened his mouth wide, and slide my entire cock into his throat. The magic disappearing act lasted for what seemed like twenty minutes and I was in heaven. His tongue finished at my taint and then before returning to standing he spit on my cock on more time. I could imagine his hole spreading in excitement of the impending pleasure.

I removed his pants quickly turned him to face the stall door. His hands flew over head as he “assumed the position”. His ass was more pale than his exposed flesh and looked like ivory next to the skin of my penis. I licked my fingers and began to massage his pink hole--never have I seen such a good shave job. My fingers pressed firmly against his body and began to make penetration. He relaxed and I slide the three middle fingers in and began to slowly glide from tip to palm, massaging his gouche with my thumb.

While fingering him I retrieved a magnum from my pants which still resided around my ankles. I slid the condom on and spit on my dick, his hole, and then retrieved his spit on my hand to give a double dose. I pressed my head against his hole and it accepted the gift...he stretched to fit my size and I slide completely in on the first thrust.

His demeanor immediately changed. Whipping his head around he looked at me with fire in his eyes and exclaimed “plow me until I bleed”.

Without hesitation I began to thrust. This was about the pleasure.

I plowed his hole from behind for near fifteen minutes, stopping when someone entered the restroom and resuming immediately when they exited. I could feel he was close to ejaculation as his hole begin to pulsate around my penis. In an instant he threw his head back and let out a loud “AHHH!” and released his load on the stall door--in the same moment my body shivered and I came into him.

I kissed his neck softly as I began to pull out, slight traces of blood were apparent on the condom...he did ask for it.

We dressed and parted ways, leaving a puddle of semen on the door, a condom in the garbage bin, and memories that will not be forgotten.

OUTWEAR: Step in the Bright Direction

Welcome to the Sunday Style section of Justin Plus Six, also known as OUTwear. 

Your fashion guru is none other than the cute couture personal shopper to the stars, Idan Bail. Get the style scoop you need, and then go forth and be fabulous.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

For the last few weeks I've taken a hiatus from shopping. Crazy, I know! It's challenging to find spring inspiration when we're still faced with winter like temperatures and the like. But now, after much awaited.... waiting, I think it's safe to say that spring has sprung. Finally! I'm so excited to get back to my old routine of browsing all my favorite sites looking for those perfect seasonal essentials.

When dressing myself, I usually start from the bottom and work my way up. Take that as you will. Anyway, since I love shoes I usually check out Coach first for their footwear selections because of their quality craftsmanship and great price points. I think I hit the jackpot when I came across the new Niles Nubuck Slip Ons. Perfect for spring and summer in luxurious suede and priced at just under $200 bucks. These are a great summertime investment that I know I'll wear to death and go with literally everything. They're like a grown up and more sophisticated version of Vans I think. Perfect for your average GG20.

My favorite colors available are the green and turquoise, but you can also get them in parchment, tan, and grey if neutrals are your thing. They're also available in a duel colored woven design as well as a black lizard skin for the super luxe men out there. I'd recommend those for a dressed up but casual look, great for any European vacation this summer. I can see all of these versions being worn on the coast in Italy or Greece with beige linen pants and a white cotton tee on a tall dark and handsome man - so effortlessly easy and chic! 

TOP CHEF: Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade with Passion Tea, Unsweetened, Venti, please… Adult Style

Saturdays at Justin + 6 are TOP Chef with our own answer to Paula Deen (minus the diabetes and obesity): our gorgeous gay southern belle, Jason Elliott. 

Want to share a recipe for him to feature? Feel free to drop him a line!

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

-----------------------------

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but what about a gay man’s BFF? Starbucks. Definitely Starbucks. That’s exactly why this week we are taking inspiration from my favorite over-priced summer concoction from the beloved coffeehouse: Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade with Passion Tea, Unsweetened, Venti, please…. Adult Style!

What you will Need:

Stoli Citros (or your favorite citrus infused/flavored vodka)

Tazo Passion Tea

What you will Do:

First, brew the passion tea according to directions on the box. Then, let it chill down in the refrigerator. Next, in a martini shaker filled with ice, add about 2 parts Passion Tea for each part citrus vodka. Shake well and strain into an ice-filled tumbler.



Voila! That quickly, we have an adult spin on a Starbucks classic! If you are going to be serving a lot of these, you can simply add the vodka to your tea pitcher… just don’t forget you’ve added alcohol. These drinks are so delicious you’ll definitely be ordering seconds… and thirds… and sevenths.

If you want to jazz it up even more, fill the glass only halfway and top it off with sparkling lemon water! Either way, you’re sure to feel quite refreshed after a couple of our Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade with Passion Tea, Unsweetened, Venti, please Adult Style! But that’s a long name… so don’t waste time saying it… just go make it, drink, enjoy it, and let me know how you like it!

Also, big shout out to our guest blogger, Travis, for sitting in and helping us out this week!

Love that’s better than Starbucks,
Jason

POLITICALLY ERECT: A Gift That Keeps on Giving: of the Month

Fridays at Justin + 6 are now POLITICALLY ERECT with Washington DC-based gay party guy, and creator and host of Swish Edition, R. Scott Wallis. Expect to be challenged. Expect to be offended. Opinions expressed here are Scott's, and Scott's alone.

Become a fan of Justin Plus Seven on Facebook here.

---

I love getting mail. Real, physical, paper mail, delivered by a living person through the slot in my front door. I know…how 20th century of me.

Despite the fact that 75% of it goes straight into the garbage—do I really need 45 Pottery Barn catalogs every year?—I root through the bills and the coupons to find the occasional post card (yup, they still make them), greeting card, magazine, and boxer brief.

Boxer brief?!

Yes, I am addicted to new underwear and I’m not afraid to say it out loud. Like Justin Luke’s obsession with Threadless t-shirts, I must have nearly every style of Andrew Christian, C-IN2, Baskit, Calvin Klien, aussieBum, Nasty Pig and others. And I get a kick out of discovering new and little-known brands, too, like the U.K.’s Blue Buck—a new favorite that you have to fly to London to get.

I’m thrilled when Andrew has a sale. Or when CheapUndies.com put my favorite brand and cut of boxer brief on a 75% off deal and I quickly bought four pairs for the price of one! And I was equally excited to find out about a new company called the Underwear Society. I ran across them on Facebook just yestreday, visited their site, and found out that it’s an  underwear of the month club!

I instantly signed up. (And, no, they aren’t paying me. Although they should. Call my people, guys!)

What’s cool about the Society is that for about $20 or so, I’ll get a pair of underwear in my size (you get to choose between briefs, boxer briefs, boxers, or all three, as your style preference) along with a cool pair of funky socks. They have ‘just underwear’ or ‘just socks’ plans, too. So now when I check my mail, I’ll find an extra surprise 12 times a year and perhaps I’ll discover even newer and cooler brands to sport under my jeans or shorts. Or just on their own! Underwear party, anyone?

Which brings me back to the point of this week’s blog entry: the trusty
Hey, it’s not a new concept. Fruit of the month clubs have been popular for decades. There have been music clubs, book clubs, and cheese clubs. My dad is in a wine of the month club. I get a new pack of razor blades from the funny guys at Dollar Shave Club ever four weeks. When my grandmother was still with us, I had flowers sent like clockwork. Green Mountain Coffee sends me my regularly scheduled box of coffee cups for my Keurig machine. It goes on and on.

And just last month, I started getting Birchbox deliveries. It’s a fun little box full of unexpected, upscale items—hand picked by curators with a discerning style—such as comfy socks, a nifty wooden mini speaker, all-natural skin moisturizer, handy lip balm and, yup, even boxer briefs. It’s $20 a month, too, and you never know what you’re going to get.

Dog lover? Barkbox will come to you with select treats and toys for your favorite pooch.

Like beer? 12 full-sized bottles of hard-to-find, specialty microbrews from award-winning, regional breweries across the country can be yours.

Like nasty old cigars? You can have 5 hand-rolled stogies sent to your box.

Now, until I develop and market the HomoBox—full of exotic lubes, the freshest toys, hottest porn and array of gourmet poppers (don’t even think of stealing my idea!)—I guess I’ll be excited about my first underwear and socks delivery. I’m sitting here naked, looking for a club to sign my mom up for for Mother’s Day, so it can’t come fast enough.