This summer has been incredibly busy for me. I moved into a new apartment and my old POS computer refuses to connect to the wireless router; spoiled by decades of being fed the internet directly into its ass like an information super highway enema. So I apologize for the lack of posting, I promise I’m still alive and working on being sexy.

Speaking of sexy, check out that photo above. That was taken by Travis Williams and I think it is just delicious. He has a beautiful natural eye for space and lines and color. He’s also the only person I know that will get drunk with me on a Monday.

Anyway I’m doing this performance tomorrow for The Chat Lounge. The presentation is the same No Homo presentation that I did for the MOMENTUM conference this past March in DC, except this time I’m not taking myself so seriously. I’m not very good at serious. Serious conversations usually involve words that are more than three syllables long and those words can kiss my very white ass.

Something else that can lick my fanny is sleeping on the floor. For the last two months I have been without a bed. It’s a long story but anyway the point is I’ve been sleeping so horribly that my face and hair on any given morning since the start of July has been somewhat akin to Ms. Bellatrix Lestrange.

“TAKE ME TO STARBUCKS!”

Anyway I encourage you to stop by and enjoy the free food and get ripped at the bar. Some Darling Housers will be there and we will be streaming the performance live here on DarlingHouse.net, so if you can’t make it you can still fap to my hilarity from the comfort of your own home.

Be sexy xox

My process is much like the definition of a Taurus. I don’t enjoy creating things for the sake of creating something. I am really only interested in creating something — be it a piece of art or a performance or whatever — when I feel that it is organic and pure expression.

It’s strange…I don’t feel that I am a creative person, but rather that I possess creativity from time to time. That may sound weird but..I don’t know if I can explain it.

My entire body feels like churning paint on the inside, various shades and textures. My inside writhe and struggle seeking a means to escape and manifest in the form of a creation. It’s not like this all the time; just periodically, randomly. I feel like something takes over my emotions and my thinking, and all I can do is close my eyes and feel what it is wanting to do. Pieces of the puzzle begin to manifest and I do my best to document them either physically or as a mental note. I don’t feel like I am creating when I am in this state, I feel like I am channeling. Giving birth. Possessed.

Anyway, I probably sound crazy, I just wanted to share some notes I’ve made recently, since I am once again brewing. There is a force in me that needs to be manifested someday soon. It’s indulgent and theatrical. It’s sensual and ecstasy embodied.

Ancient.

Bacchus.

Bacchus.

Bacchus.

The photos I received were amazing and varied. I had no idea that I had such fun, creative, and sexellent readers! There was no way I was going to be able to choose from the pictures as they were all so unique and great, so I had to enlist the assistance of my friend Kasey to pick the winners.

Thank you to everyone who submitted, and an extra special thanks to those who enclosed a birthday message to me. Your words touched me internally in a way that I am not accustomed to.  I really appreciate all your continued support and I am honored to be able to give back to you on this very special day. Thank you!

And the winners are…

3rd Place — Winner of the Tenga Egg lot and Sliquid Oceanics: A whole mess o’ hos presenting some drop dead raunchy orgy couture realness!

Good lord boys! Where is your mother!? Is she the one taking the picture? Featured in this photo is a real life gay couple and their best friend moments before they all wore masks of my face and rubbed up against each other aka my ideal date. Thanks fellas, enjoy the Tenga Eggs — and as an added bonus I am sending an extra three bottles of Sliquid Organic Oceanics for everyone involved, including your mother and her camera phone.

2nd Place — Winner of the Tantus B-Bomb vibrating plug and Sliquid Organic Oceanics: BRYCE presenting some coquettish come-hither realness!

When I first saw this picture my heart melted. Then I realized Bryce is not only rocking scruff, multi-colored eye makeup, a pair of cute Aussiebums, and a sweet tribute tattoo, he is also totally stealing my hair style and signature pose! Don’t make me come hunting for you mister; I’d hate to have to scratch that pretty face! And I do scratch, it’s my only means of attack/defense. Enjoy the B-Bomb darling, and remember to think of me when you’re using it!

1st Place — Winner of the NJOY Eleven and a grip of Sliquid lubes: W0LFE presenting some Nightmare on B Street creepy ass realness!

Holy hell! If I go missing tonight someone alert the police to search every boiler room in Bushwick! Though they will probably assume I am at the Boiler Room in the East Village. W0lfe did some spelunking and called upon my love of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies (which I was raised watching, I loves me some Freddy) to turn out some creepily awesome slasher realness! At first I was a little scared, but then decided that I would much rather this guy be on my side than not, so take the 1st place prize and please spare me my life killer!

Congratulations to all the winners, and a big THANK YOU to everyone who entered! Your pictures brought a huge smile to my face and I can’t think of a better birthday gift.

Now I gotta go get my drink on with my friends. Be sexy, y’all! xxo

I announced today on TheINQUEERY.com that I am having a contest for my birthday. April 30th is officially B-DAY. My B-DAY to be exact! And what better way to celebrate than to give away some of the products that I have come to love and admire (especially during the winter cuz honey I am not getting my snow boots on for some booty).

Upon announcing it I was approached by several toy companies that wanted to share in the Brandon B celebration too! Sliquid is upping the ante by contributing my new favorite water-based lubricant, Sliquid Organics Oceanic as well as some other lubes of theirs that are great,  JimmyJane is offering a fantastically strong Form 2 vibrator, and The Pleasure Chest is paying my electric bills and rent so that I can afford to do giveaways such as these. Other prizes include a grip of Tenga Masturbation Eggs, and the B-Bomb buttplug from Tantus — which I am sure was named after me.

The rules for entering the contest are similar to the rules for entering my ass: TELL ME I’M AWESOME, BE FLIRTATIOUS, and BE YOUR FUN SEXY SELF. You can see the details here.

So what are you waiting for? How will you show me you love me…

“What’s up?”

“Nice tats!”

“You’re hot!”

These one-liners put the responsibility for the conversation to go somewhere 100% on my shoulders.  I typically just say thank you if it’s a compliment, otherwise I’ll just ignore the e-mail.  Unless they are abnormally hot, then depending on how much I am procrastinating (NOTE: as I write this entry I am actually procrastinating hard core) I will try to get some sorta banter going.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, and sometimes things are just weird and make me giggle.

I thought I’d show you what me putting off work looks like.  It’s nothing extremely entertaining or smart, but it’s Sunday and I am hungover so deal with it. Keep reading if you’re interested.

Random Guy: nice tatoos!

Brandon B: Thanks!

RG: what’s up?

BB: Stretching, about to workout.  You?

RG: still in bed!

BB: What color is your bedding?

RG: navy blue

BB: Awesome!

RG: do you have secrets tatoos on ur body?

BB: Yes. In order to find them one must answer a series of riddles — each of which leads you to the next.  Upon answering the final riddle, I require that the participant remove the article of clothing covering said secret tattoo using only their teeth and one chopstick.

RG: what’s a chopstick?

To Shave or Not to Shave?

Once upon a time I told myself that I would never do three things: Work in the food industry, do my own laundry, or become a model.  Modeling was never something that I felt as though I had a natural gift for.  I was trained as a comedian and comedians aren’t usually portrayed in the sexiest of lights, but now I need to find a balance.

I used to be scruffy for a long time, and back in LA that made me edgy, dangerous, and cool.  Then I moved to New York and visited Williamsburg where everyone was scruffy and I just felt like I melted in to my surroundings.  I decided to represent the babyfaces of the world and ditch my scruff to show off my stunning skin, however recently I have been wondering if — for the sake of becoming the sexiest sex bomb possible — I should accept that New Yorker gays prefer the scruffier look and go back to the fuzz face?

Here are some shaved/not-shaved pics of me from the past….watch the video above and examine the pictures closely…any opinions either way?

All photos 2007-2010 Walt Cessna

Clean Shave!

Scruffier!

To see the shots from our first shoot go visit his Tumblr and check out his other amazing shots of other Darling House models.

I don’t like to be restrained, I like to be able to move freely. I like to be man handled, tossed around, and I don’t like things like ropes and cuffs inhibiting my movement. This time though he insists on looping his belt around my ankles and I let him and I thought I’d hate it but he is good at what he does.

He loves eating me out. I’m told it’s one of the sexiest things about me; when someone’s face is buried in my quivering ass. I’m very vocal, especially with him, because he is rough and he likes to slap each cheek, hard, while he flicks his tongue desperately, like a dog who hasn’t eaten in days. Sometimes he punches it. Sometimes he bites. He never reaches around to jerk me as pre-cum stains the sheet below me. He never lets me touch myself either; ever actually. The only thing I am allowed to grab are the bedsheets themselves, the pillow I’m biting when I moan, his cock when he fucks my face.

He likes to have his fingers inside of me. He doesn’t care which hole, just as long as he is filling me constantly. He loves a finger in my ass, or four, or even shoving his fingers in my mouth as a gag that I choke and groan them. He sometimes will slide a dildo inside my ass and just hold it in there while he drags his nails down my thighs. He scratches slowly but firmly, and steady, leaving deep red marks down my legs. He never asks me if it’s too hard. It’s never hard enough. Each line is like a badge of honor that I wear proudly.

Each bruised swollen welted cheek is also tender reminder for days that follow of the abuse he put me through. Sitting is only comfortable if I have something to lean against, standing even hurts especially if it’s for a long period of time, and each step I take when I walk a pulsating ‘thud’ shoots down my legs, the epicenter an ass covered with deep red handprints and purple fist marks. I go to work like this sometimes and ring up customers. I smile the whole time, sometimes smiling just at the knowing of why I am smiling, and I sometimes seem very cheerful. “You’re always in a good mood Brandon.” Somedays better than others.

He hovers above me, me on my back. He smiles with one side of his mouth as he looks deeply into my eyes, sweat falling from his forehead as he stares, and I know exactly what he is thinking. I never say it, it would be breaking, but I know – he is so high off of this, and it’s not like this with just anyone. It’s like this with only us, and his smile and stare show a sadistic love for me. It’s fleeting though when he collects his bearings, realizing that if he stares for a beat too long that our energy will shift in a different direction. He jumps back into it, grabs the belt around my ankles and drags my body to the edge of the bed. Using one hand he lifts the belt, my legs, over one of his shoulders. He grabs one of the condoms we have prepared on the bed. We like playing risky, not stupid.

He unrolls the condom down the shaft of his dick, which is a monster all on its own. His dick is thick, 7”, and tilts slightly into a curve pointing towards his stomach. He’s so hot now that his cock throbs with each rush of blood, filling it up and making it thicker, longer. He steadies himself by cradling my legs against his chest, using his other hand to guide himself inside me. I let out the only words I am able tosay; “Oh fuck,” and that sets him off. He doesn’t start slow, we aren’t slow people, he fucks me fast and hard right away. He always gets me nice and loose with his fingers and mouth, but despite that his cock always feels just shy of too big. It’s never too big though, and my body tightens with each thrust. “Oh fuck, oh fuck” I say mindlessly. When you’re feeling that good, you find yourself wanting to just talk but you can’t say anything else.

He’s had enough of letting me talk and covers my mouth with his hand, his dick still thrusting deep inside of me. Sometimes he pulls all the way out abruptly, pauses, and then shoves it back in and repeats. It drives me crazy and my moan against his palm is almost begging. I’m never sure for what, I never can say anything more than “Please”, I’m pretty sure it’s a form of worship. Show me the god who can make me feel like that and I’ll be in church every fucking day.

He fucks and fucks and fucks, sometimes removing the hand over my mouth only to beat a fist onto my chest. It’s here where we are both at our most vulnerable and most powerful; he has this thing where he can’t cum unless he watches me cum, and I am not allowed to touch myself.

I don’t need to. The way he feels inside me makes me shoot high and long, my voice screaming under his palm. My legs shake and he keeps pounding me, staring at me, and as soon as he sees me cumming I can see the expression in his face change. I just gave myself to him, and now he accepts his victory.

I close my eyes as he pulls out and feel him climb closer to me. He beats his dick fast, he moans and shouts “FUCK”. All I see is the beating red thuds of blood against the inside of my eyelids. All I feel are thick ropes of cum landing against my face, dripping down my cheek, landing on my chin.

Three weeks ago he and I were having dinner. I told him that I was writing a piece for my next zine, and he asked me what I was writing. I told him that this time I was writing a piece that hadn’t happened yet, but rather this time I’d be writing a piece that explained point by point everything that I wanted him to do to me. “How will I know which one it is?” he asked. “I’ll call it something obscure; To-Do List.” He smiled out the corner of his mouth and stared at me, and after a moment, correcting himself, said “I can’t wait to read it.”

It’s not like this with anyone else.

All these years later and I am still a member, and I have even been asked from time to time to do guest posts for them.  The guy who runs their blog is a really cool guy named Dwight and he and I have had several fun chats, though I must admit I have mixed feelings about when they mention me.  Most recently Dwight called me their “fave sex blogger” which was pretty cool, but his readers in general don’t like me and typically disagree with me, usually based on nothing factual.  I am used to not being well-liked because of my condom policy and education so it is what it is, and all I can hope for is that someone listens when I talk.  Maybe they get annoyed that I lure them in with my tattooed pretty boy flesh and then BLAMMIE spring some reality on them like Gwyneth Paltrow in Glee’s “Sexy” episode.

“Just remember whenever you have sex with someone you’re having sex with everyone they’ve ever had sex with, and everybody’s got a random! #buzzkill”

The most recent post they mentioned me in was regarding a post I made regarding Gun Oil H2O on The INQUEERY, where I touched base on the difference between cheaper lubes vs. higher-end lubes.  This sparked a flurry of comments from the readers, one of which was ”Anyone who spends $50 or more on lube, no matter how good it is, needs some sort of professional help.”  Several other posters commented on how great they thought Astroglide was and scoffed at there being a reason to use anything else.  For the last five years on a daily basis I have heard it all, and their arguments were no exception to the rule.

It can be difficult to get through to people who feel this way, usually because they don’t care and really aren’t interested in hearing what I have to say, but as a sex educator and international babe it is my duty to get on my soap box for anyone that will listen.  It is also tough for most people to see you as sexy when you buzzkill them down with some information that might save their lives, but usually it just takes a few ass shots for them to forgive you for that.

In this instance I’d like to direct people to a post I made on May 28th 2010 regarding a study regarding lubes used anally.  Astroglide specifically was found to make contracting a sexually transmitted infection (STI) or HIV three times more likely due to the fact that it causes cell damage and dehydration in the anus.

Yeah, it’s totally the best…

Here’s hoping that people start paying attention to the junk they are putting in their bodies and begin taking care of themselves all around.