Thursday, July 31, 2014

Do You Nuru? Make It As Hot Inside As It IS OUT!

Learn How to Give a Nuru Massage
How to Give a Nuru Massage with Wet Nuru Massage Gel

It's steamy hot outside, so why not make it just as hot inside? Relax at home with a steamy DVD. Find a sexy movie that turns you both on and a cool space to relax. As you watch, feed each other popsicles or chilled white wine. Kissing and nuzzling will soon lead to massages. The next thing you know, you'll be teaching the people in the film that you're watching a new move or two.  Give each other sensual massage with Wet® Nuru Massage Gel --always an erotic idea. Watch our Video to learn Nuru massage techniques.

Enjoy the heat!

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

You Kids Get Off My Parade!

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be…and it most likely never was.

At the end of June, as is my longstanding tradition, I went to San Francisco’s LGBTQI Pride Parade. I’ve been doing it for decades, since back in those pre-inclusive days when it was known simply as “Gay Freedom Day” and nobody had heard of HIV, marriage equality, or Grindr. Back when “lube” meant Vaseline or spit. Back when I had hair.

Lately, I’ve been marching with the American Civil Liberties Union. Not the most radical organization on the block, maybe, but hey, the ACLU can make a rightwinger’s hair burst into flames. They’re the nice bunch who went to bat before the Supreme Court for that delightful Edie Windsor so she could take down DOMA. Plus: cool parade T-shirts.

This year, we got stuck toward the back of the parade and set off three hours after the Dykes on Bikes roared down Market Street right in front of the Airbnb float. Now, when I was picketing Greenwich Village police stations way back in the early 1970s, I didn’t realize I was fighting for the right of techies to rent out their overpriced apartments. But, you know, times change.

And I’ve changed too. It’s something of a myth that age brings wisdom. Sometimes it just brings grumpiness. I did try my best not to resent all the young parade-goers draped in rainbow-colored plastic dreck, flouncing around like they were entitled to the fruits of half a century of queer activism. Because, well, all those LGBTQIwhatever young ‘uns are entitled to precisely that.

Sure, kids, you will never know or understand the isolation of growing up gay pre-Stonewall, wondering if you’re the only one like you in your whole town. You won’t search in vain for images of folks like you in the mass media. Nor will you wake up at the height of the AIDS pandemic, wondering which of your friends will be diagnosed that day. And that means that, in very significant ways, we queer old farts did our job. I might almost be tempted to dub my cohort The Greatest Gay Generation…if that didn’t seem so smarmily self-glorifying.

Sure, it’s tempting to look at the well-waxed young gym bunnies gyrating on corporate floats and wonder where gay politics took a hard right turn into assimilationism. Once we wanted to change the world, now we just want to be accepted by the status quo. Turn on, buy in, work out!

Which is not to say that we’re not changing the world—at least the developed Western world—just by being our own queer selves. But, well, sometimes shallow homos can give superficiality a bad name. Life does consist of more than apps, drugs, and shaving your balls, remember?

But then, queer folks don’t enjoy the generation-to-generation continuity found in many other subgroups. Most of our parents were straight, and most of the kids whom same-sex couples are raising will turn out that way, too. Traditionally, queer folkways have been handed down through our cultural institutions, everything from drag shows to Death in Venice. We used to speak in codes and whispers, often from deep in the closet.

But that seems so very long ago. Nowadays, it’s getting tough to even find a good closet. Drag is just another pretext for reality TV competitions. Stonewall has gone from a radical riot to an Upcoming Major Motion Picture, directed by the guy who made Independence Day…and who’s quite openly gay himself. Hell, even dick piercing seems decidedly old hat.

And, you know, that’s really a good, even an amazing, thing. Was it really so wonderful to sneak into mafia-run bars, worry about blackmail, marry a beard, live a lie? Well, no; I doubt even the most nostalgic among us long for that.

So it turns out that plenty of you gay guys are more interested in raising kids with your husbands than deconstructing the patriarchy? Well, cool! Just as long as you don’t disavow those who are less gender conforming, less monogamously inclined, or more radical in their politics, then go for that white picket fence, guys!

Because, as every year’s parade increasingly indicates, queerdom is now a club that just about anyone can join. LGBTI people are more diverse than might have been imagined a decade or three ago, and we’re getting more diverse all the time. No matter who you are or what you’re into, there’s a place for you out there, and a Tumblr or Instagram site where you can flaunt it.

Maybe we are indeed well on our way to a post-“gay” society with room for a wide spectrum of sexualities and genders, and that sounds pretty fucking cool. History does, indeed, keep right on a-moving, and some changes really are for the best. OK, maybe we do live in a security-state oligarchy, but it is a place where you can order a cocksucker on Craigslist in minutes…and sometimes they’ll even show up. Want to get spanked? There’s an app for that!

Sure, San Francisco may not be paradise, but compared to Kampala, Riyadh, or even Hog Wallow, Tennessee, it’s pretty damn close. And if the Good Old Days of Gay Radicalism are long gone, well…I recently ran across a rather wonderful quote. Author Gideon Lewis-Kraus wrote, “What the word ‘over’ really means is that your expectations of a place, your fantasies of who you might have become there, have been confounded by the persistence of you.”

And I think that goes for the gay movement. Whatever queer theory’s utopian notions of reshaping human relations, of (as an old piece of agitprop quaintly put it) “cock sucking as an act of revolution,” our fondest dreams eventually run smack dab against the reality of ourselves.

Or so I mused while I was waiting for the ACLU to march down Market Street. That is, when I wasn’t being distracted by a head-turning array of manhood—from skinny nerd to leather hunk—clothed, shirtless, or buck naked.  And then we were off, on yet another march, right after the revolutionaries at Uber.

For as our Great Gay Tunesmith, Stephen Sondheim, wrote, “Good times and bum times, I’ve seen them all. And my dear, I’m still here.”

And that’s something to celebrate.

Simon Sheppard is the author of Man on Man: The Best of Simon Sheppard, The Dirty Boys' Club, Sex Parties 101 and Jockboys. Visit him at, and email him at

10 Reasons to Use Wet Platinum

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Wet Platinum is a silicone-based lubricant. Unlike water-based lubricants, silicone molecules are large and are not absorbed, so they remain on the surface of the skin. Because Wet Platinum contains no water, it does not evaporate either, giving you longer-lasting, slippery, friction-free play. There is no mood-breaking, stopping to re-apply necessary. Platinum is always slick, guaranteed never sticky, and doesn’t dry out.

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Sex without lube nearby, is sure to stop pleasurable intercourse in its tracks. At least one partner at this point may feel turned off and be thinking “I could really use some lubricant right now!” With the mood already at stake, you’re going to need something you can grab quick, apply, and be able to get your groove on. Wet Platinum is the best choice because it’s easy as 1, 2, and 3! Grab it, squeeze it, apply it and you’re ready to go. Absolutely no need to worry because Platinum gives you the perfect slippery glide, and won’t become messy, clumped up, dried out, or sticky. And since it won’t dry out, you just need a small amount. Apply Wet Platinum to your penis, sex toys*, and interior/exterior of your condom or anywhere else your heart desires, slip right in, work your magic and enjoy the ride.

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Wet has been widely available in love boutiques since 1989.  We understand that not everyone is comfortable visiting their local adult boutique and not all of us live in a city where adult boutiques exist. The adult boutiques do offer a wider selection of Wet products and other intimacy products so check them out if you have the opportunity.  For your convenience, Wet is now widely available in all major pharmacies and mass market retailers across the United States and Canada, and is available online as well, with discreet shipping at

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To locate a store near you, that carries Wet, please visit Wet Locator.

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There really is nothing better than hot sex in the shower. Besides installing handles on your shower walls to hold on to during your steamy sessions, the next essential item is a bottle of waterproof lubricant. Take silicone-based Wet Platinum in the shower with you, squirt some on your fingers, apply to self and/or partner and you’re ready to go. Wet Platinum can also be used in Jacuzzis, lakes, rivers, oceans, bathtubs, and swimming pools. The water will roll over the lube like a bead of water on a leaf. When you’re done and want to clean up just lather up and rinse off, or carry a package of baby wipes on you for fast efficient clean up.

Caution:  Silicone lubricants will break down the silicone seals on your hot tubs, spas and pools over time so it’s best to use it sparingly.

10.  It’s Good Karma! 
We believe that companies are like individuals, each creating their own "Karma." Giving back has been paramount to us since our inception. Through our charitable giving program, we contribute to the work of more than 300 non-profit organizations worldwide.

Kylene Wolfstein, Blogger for Wet Personal Lubricants

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Gay Sex, Queer Cinema

"I Am Happiness on Earth"  (All Photos: Used by Permission from Frameline38)
Every man in this theater sucks cock, I thought. I was sitting in the Castro Theater during Frameline, San Francisco’s LGBT film festival, the world’s oldest and maybe largest queer fest. And I was not just thinking about fellatio, but musing about the ways that gay movies mirror the sexual zeitgeist.

Despite the fact that there’s always a creative time lag—some of the films took years from concept to completion—there were, as usual, interesting filmic trends to be discerned. In the past, there’d been a spate of films about AIDS, then a few years later, about marriage equality. (Though regardless, the festival, being what it is, always shows films about dick.)

And this year? Trans. Take the charming, wistful Swedish film Something Must Break. In some ways, it was the typical coming-of-age-young-guys-find-each-other film, replete with cute young men with cute young visibly uncut dicks. A can’t-miss staple of gay festivals, and who can resist the sight of another naked romp at the swimming hole? But this time, the central character was gender-variant, androgynous Andreas, who longed to be “Ellie.”

And there was Yann Gonzales’ gorgeously startling You and the Night, a genre-bending mashup of Dario Argento horror films, Luis Buñuel surrealism, and Rocky Horror Show weird shit. Sure, there was the indisputable charm of retired soccer star Éric Cantona flaunting a huge prosthetic-but-passable penis. But then there was the transvestite maid and the pro-lust message that, given the opportunity, anyone would fuck just about anybody else….even if they were dead. Cool!

Yep, from a revival showing of groundbreaking trans drama Boys Don’t Cry to a program of shorts about female-to-male guys, the festival was decidedly more trans-centric than in years past. The charming Off Road told the tale of a feisty female car mechanic who used to be a guy, Lady Valor the story of a male-to-female Navy SEAL. There was even the documentary The Dog, the fascinatingly weird true story of John Wojtowicz, whose bank-robbing quest to finance his lover’s sex change was the basis of Dog Day Afternoon.

Why such a heavy trans presence in queer film? And why now? One obvious answer is the increasing visibility of transpeople, and the increasing strength of their movement. That’s a good thing, of course; so much hatred is based in rigid ideas of gender. Then, too, like gay and lesbian artists before them, increasing numbers of creative transpeople are coming out.

And maybe another reason is the very success of so much of the lesbian and gay movement. In significant ways, queers have entered the mainstream at a dizzying pace. In celebration of that, the excellent HBO documentary The Case Against 8 opened the festival, giving a blow-by-blow account of the triumph of marriage equality in California.

Even erstwhile cinematic badboy Bruce La Bruce seems to have settled down, dishing up Gerontophilia, a charming, touching dramedy about an 18-year-old boy with a hard-on for men old enough to be his grandpas. Who’d have dreamed that the auteur behind such edgy cinema masterworks as L. A. Zombie and No Skin Off My Ass would come up with the gay Harold and Maude?

But drama thrives on conflict. Sure, there’s a place for happy films about happy couples getting hitched. But transgendered people are still—the old-hatness of Chaz Bono notwithstanding—on the cutting edge of change, and their narratives are every bit as riveting as plain old coming-out-as-gay movies used to be. (Though there most assuredly will always be room for films about sensitive young shirtless cisgender males like the Dutch Boys or the Polish Floating Skyscrapers. Because, well, you know….)
"Floating Skyscrapers"

Not that the Festival was all sweetness and light. There was Mentor, a heartbreaking film on bullying. An ex-neo-Nazi gay basher was profiled in the absorbing Oscar-nominated short Facing Fear, and The Last One examined the thorny problem of new HIV infections through the prism of the Names Project quilt. But in a year so filled with unprecedented victories, it was hard not to feel upbeat.

There were also fascinating looks back at queer history. Who knew that 1950s Zurich housed a major gay organization, as detailed in the beautifully crafted film The Circle? And Limited Partnership, a documentary about a bi-national male couple who were, astonishingly, legally married in Colorado all the way back in 1975, brought the audience to its feet in a standing ovation.

Then there was Folsom Forever, a laudatory documentary about the history of San Francisco’s notorious Folsom Street Fair, replete with leather, chains, and plenty of cock. The film details what most of us long-time Bay Areans already know: what was once shockingly cutting edge is now mainstream— the upcoming movie version of “Fifty Shades,” anyone?—And what was once liberated gay territory is being gentrified into oblivion.

Even some porn looked to the past. Mondo Homo gratifyingly resurrected French gay smut from the 1970s, back when guys didn’t shave their pubes. Fucking! Fisting! Foreskins! Ooh la la! Fetch le lube.

Yes, in the 38 years since the first Frameline festival, the LGBT movement has succeeded past damn near any queer’s wildest dreams. We stand in danger of committing the greatest gay sin: being boring. It would be foolish to be too triumphalist It’s-a-Small-World about this: after all, the Archbishop of S.F. celebrated Pride Month by giving his blessing to an anti-gay rally in DC, and it’s still not easy being a homo in East Jesus, Oklahoma. or Uganda or St. Petersburg. Indeed, the festival featured four programs on Russian anti-gay oppression.

One of my straight friends recently asked me, “Why should there be a gay film festival any more, anyway? There are all those gay people on True Blood.”
Well, sure, right.

But though it’s somewhat hard to imagine HBO giving airtime to, oh, the festival’s exquisitely moody avant-garde Mexican film, I Am Happiness on Earth, perhaps a better question is why, in a downloadable world, there should be film festivals at all. You can stream just about any damn thing you desire to your Roku, and Frameline itself has a major online presence, one well worth checking out.

But a minority group’s culture is the glue that holds it together, and—Netflix notwithstanding—the sensation of sitting in a darkened theater with hundreds of other queers, all enjoying (or sometimes suffering through) the images on the silver screen is still a heartening communal experience.

Especially when every man in the theater sucks cock.

Simon Sheppard

Simon Sheppard, is the author of Man on Man: The Best of Simon Sheppard, The Dirty Boys' Club, Sex Parties 101 and Jockboys. Visit him at, and email him at