Me reading my poem "Lights! Camera! Now FUCK!" then segueing into my brief song, "How Lust Should Be" at the monthly erotica open mic event, Titillating Tongues on September 20, 2013

Light/Lust

An erotic poem about sex in the winter cold after a snowfall.

Presented at the erotic open mic event, Titillating Tongues on December 20, 2013

I wake on a winter morning
To look outside to see
That snow has fallen so much
It has made a white blanket along our street
This gives me an idea for an adventure
To keep our loving feeling new
Let’s go play in the cold outside
I want to be fresh with the warmth of you

Should we do this clothed
Or should we do it naked
Whichever way we do it
Since I’ll be with you, I’m sure I can take it
As we run through the snow
The clouds gives the sun enough of a peek
To make occasionally in the sea of white
The glimmer of crystals for us to see
Lean up against that tree
Arch your back, and take me in
I was rock hard before leaving the house
And I’ll stay once I’m inches deep in your sin

The steam to rise from my cock
Is the warmth you gave me as it meets the cold
Also rising are the corners of my mouth
For a smile from experiencing your body’s hold
In the midst of this cold and snow
I’m feeling euphoria from your heat so sweet
Only orgasmic shivers to get through
For it’s cold outside
But warm in you


Now it’s your turn to enter me
Let me warm your cold cock in my mouth
My tongue massaging it to grow long and firm
Then you stick it deep in my south
Your pumpin’, thrustin’, and throbbin’
Creating heat and tingles being sexy & bold
So I’m blind to the truth, but sure my shivers
Are from the bliss you give, and not the bitter cold
Your cum is so thick and white
That it blends into the snow
So the fact we fucked on the mailman’s path
Mr. Postman will never know

The steam to rise from your cock
Is the warmth I gave you as it meets the cold
Also rising are the corners of your mouth
For a smile from experiencing my body’s hold
In the midst of this cold and snow
You feel euphoria from my heat so sweet
So in this cold you’ll still feel free
For it’s cold outside
But warm in me
Just as it was cold outside
But warm in you

Cold Outside, Warm In You

A poem about male masturbation, especially gay males. To lessen the shame in it by instead taking pride in it.

Stroke

With any sex play with a guy, the piggy side of me is always eager to make him ejaculate. For that's when...

Cum Comes Out

My presentation for a sex educator workshop about having anal sex without the aid of the illegal inhalants called "poppers" by many gay males.

Popper-Free Anal Sex

My poem calling out how many gay white/light-skinned males practice double standards based in racial fetishizing when claiming to be open to a black sex partner. It reads as follows:

I walk in naked into a sex party  
But what do you see first? 
As you're one of the tragic white & light-skinned males 
I can predict what of me will spark your thirst  
It will not be my face 
It will not be my physique 
It will be the brown skin on my penis 
That is treated as unique 

And its size can't be just proportionate  
You only accept that of white males 
But when it comes to a black dick 
You give it fake respect when its size can impale 
For you see a black dick as a means to sexualize 
Your centuries passed down white guilt 
Over credit denied to my Black forefathers 
Whose brains and brawn got countries built 
 
Well, know that my dick is a tool for pleasure  
Know that my dick is not a tool for pain 
You need to absorb that knowledge  
And get porn's teachings out of your brain 

Now zoom out 
Take it all in 
I am an entire human being 
My power is not just in my penis  
Proven by these wise words you are seeing  
So do not define me as "BBC" 
Bitch, define me by my name!  
Just as you see your fellow white males 
I'm a whole human being just the same 

Now, show me you're a worthwhile existence  
By having an individual brain 
I forbid you playing those racist double standards  
So tell me, … 
What's my name?

My Black D*ck/What's My Name

Unless otherwise requested, I am a member of the #BBBH. I 💖 giving and taking it raw. And I wrote this poem to poetically tell the details on how, like the name of the poem, I have sex by the hashtag "#RawIsLaw".

#RawIsLaw

The poem that should ensue when you need to call out a well-endowed guy who follows the porn-induced concept of "bigger is better" to the point that they do no real work in bed.

Porn has taught you that your big dick
Will make the gay boys and straight girls swoon
Well, stepping to me with porn as your teacher
Is going to be your doom

I’m going to read you as to how lame you are
It’s a truth overdue to unfurl
I’ll tell of your cockiness laced with lacking skill
Shaming you to the world

You think all you need to do is poke a hole with your pole
And from the pleasure, I’ll quiver and quake
Bitch, me doing fake moaning like that of a porno
Is the only thing keeping me the fuck awake!
Invent some moves, learn the definition of “rhythm”
Instead of being a citizen of Rhythm-LESS Nation
For what you give is far from pleasure
Instead, they’re annoying, awkward sensations

You snicker at the guy with a 5” dick
Still thinking your bigger is better
Well, he makes me moan in bliss for real
And sweat fine like a swine
So the bed ends up a hell of a lot wetter
I am horny to take his 5” again
After being bored to tears by your 11
For he knows how to work that 5
And take me to Heaven

Maybe you’re used to sluts that don’t do Kegels
Loosey-goosey holes wide like the Grand Canyon
After letting porn tell them, “Go big! Go wide! Go long!”
So to feel anything, big just laying there is enough to stand
Trust me, the problem is not me, it’s you
I do my Kegels all the time
So explain why I’m bored out of my gourd
Meanwhile, my tightness blows your mind

Mr. Big Fuck
Who do you think you are?
Mr. Big Fuck?!
You said your big dick would take me to the stars
Well, Mr. Big Fuck
Try getting a refund on the porn you used for sex ed
Because Mr. Big Fuck
The only think big besides your dick is your ego
And neither are good enough for my bed

Mr. Big Fuck

Poppers and your other drugs
You chose to love them more than me
So you gave me no other choice
But to set myself free
Because of my heinous rage over this
You claim I don't cherish your life
Well, how much do you cherish yours with your arsenal
Of popper bottles, false doctrine, and pipes?
How can you stand before a gay congregation
Telling them to love their gay selves?
Yet you can’t give or take dick in gay sex
Without having your brain in a haze yourself

I will not be your enabler
I will leave that sin to your “church”
So you can go mooch off of them
Next time you’re in a financial lurch
After all, they have enough money
That they milk from parishioners every week
To the point they’re vampires sucking blood from a stone
And the members pay with tears for it’s salvation they seek
Leading fake screams of “Oh God!” and “Hallelujah!”
So members stay wallowing in their woes
Spending less time delivering God’s word
So those woes can truly come to a close

You demeaned all of our fun together
You demeaned all we could have been
Popper-murdered brain cells refusing to define us
So you get lazy and simply call us “friends”
Knowing I wanted and deserved more, you kept me close
So you could try having your cake and eating it, too
Well, since you won’t piss or get off the pot
The time has come to say I am fuckin’ through!

So when you look in the mirror, Poppered Preacher
You’ll see Failure staring you in the face
For all of your church’s policies of hypocrisy
Is why many view religion as a disgrace
Now, this is not me calling quits that my faith
Will one day find a church to call “home”
But should I find that no church can house me
Then I’ll have more faith
Maybe even stronger faith
By walking with God alone

Poppered Preacher

Poem tormenting the person giving you a judgmental stare for checking someone out on public transportation.

You Watching Me Watch Him

This #poem tells how my ass has seduced "straight" boys to show some gayness, sexual racists to question their racism, and bottoms to momentarily become tops.

3 males stand before me
Each of you with a story
Of how the sight of my ass made your cock do a salute
And it’s something your brain just can’t compute

You claim you’re a real man since you’re a lover of pussy
Banging on your chest like a gorilla
Well, wait till I tell your friends
How much all that show is an empty filla
For it goes beyond that of normal curiosity 
Your game of “20 Questions About Gay Sex”
And the lust in your eyes talking about my ass protruding like a girl’s
Makes me uneasy about what’s next
You want to talk more over drinks
But I refuse to help you lower your inhibitions
Where I fear you might try copping a feel
And making you face yourself is not my life’s mission

Your known play at sex parties and searches online
Show it’s only white or light skin you seek
Until your side glances and search history
Show you giving my chocolate cakes a peek
You’re questioning the sexual racism
You were taught to call “preference” all this time
I’m glad the sight of my juicy black beauty booty
Is making true preference alive in your cock and mind
I’m intrigue by how I’m inciting
Secret dreams of interracial sex
And your being quick to tell other sex dreams to your crew  
Is exactly why your racist ass is hexed

You claim that you’re a bottom
Saying it’s hardly if ever that you top
But once I let you enter me
You drilled my hole like you couldn’t stop
Trust me, this is far from a complaint
For I was totally satisfied
With the end result being an instance
We can both look back on with pride
You, because you let the power
Of your dick penetrating a hole finally get loose
And I, because it’s my ass that incited it
It possess a wonder that got you seduced

Seducing bottoms to top
Seducing light racists to see they love Black
Seducing so-called straight boys
To see some gayness might be their fact
3 males stand before me
Each of you with a story
Of how the sight of my ass made your cock do a salute
And it’s something your brain just can’t compute

All of this shows

My ass is a weapon of mass seduction
Luring you in to get a taste
Contemplating acts that your shallow brothers feel
Should have you easily deemed a disgrace
My ass seems to bring desires to the surface
Your bigoted cliques say are worthy of shame
So if my ass is a weapon of mass seduction
Then I am proud to let it wear that claim

Weapon Of Mass Seduction

Poem about a sex nerd (like myself) wanting the only "porn" to watch during sex to be made by the non-intrusive technology to show the sex you're having from INSIDE the body.

Inside Of Me

Well Bred

Erotic poem telling what IT is like with me

What It's Like... With Me

Poem about what exactly I want from bareback sex. Including physical sensations and common sense science about sex.

I Want

Erotic poem exploring the fantasy of being so sexually drawn to the legs and backsides on the men on a soccer or rugby team that you offer yourself to be a g*ngb*ng bottom

I see them on the field
Building up such a sweat
I want to give myself to them all
For a night each won’t soon forget
It can be a group thing
Or it can be one on one
But until I take in all of their milk
I won’t call myself done
Those shapely thighs
Those shapely rears
The thought of feeling those muscles
Almost brings me to joyful tears

Your sweaty skin glistenin’
And taut muscles ripplin’
With my dreams of our bodies after
Has started me drippin’
So boys, play that game
Come on, earn this prize
No matter if you win or lose the game
This reward is because you tried
Those muscular legs
From running the field
Pushing each of you in me deep
With a power unmatched and unreal

Soccer boys, kick
Rugby boys, run
Get out of those wet & sticky shorts
And take me when you’re done
Surround me with the musk
Reeking from your crotch and pits
Bury my face in the hair of one
While another pounds me to bliss

Reverse cowboy won’t be to avoid any eyes
It’ll be while I ride to massage some thighs
I’ll redeem the eye contact in missionary
And grab your cakes as I milk you ferally 
From locker room bench to hotel
I’ll give you all a sexy tale to tell
Let’s end this night with a collective boom 
Starting from a sexy leggy locker room

Sexy Leggy Locker Room

A poem making clear as to how contrary to what gay p0rn might make one believe, my gayness is NOT okay with giving my peach to a "straight" guy or guy on the DL.

This 🍑 Is For

Poem about playing with interactive sex toys

Interactive Satisfaction

A poem telling of what goes through my mind when I see a cis male's bulge in his pants, short, tights, underwear, or swimwear

When I See A Bulge

A poem of my Aries self confessing how one born under my astrological sign is a more adventurous sex partner

Aries Freak

A poem about the fantasy one can have by watching the way a male adult performer moves

So handsome 
Yet unassuming 
You walk into a scene 
Then the sex starts 
And I'm blindsided 
By what I begin to see 
The way your body moves 
When you're inside a body's hole 
My inside voice screams, "Can I be next?" 
So I maintain my self-control 
Since you cannot leap from the screen 
You instead inspire my next wet dream 
Moving in me like you did in that scene 
Until you fill me with your milky cream 

 Your penetrations 
Are natural artistry 
Like ocean waves 
From any angle 
They're beauty in motion 
With sweat to swim & bathe 
Surges are sent through your partners 
Causing them to scream and moan 
For the waves you make hit their spot 
And my toys cannot make it truly known 
Your scene partners often shortchange you 
And it interrupts the joy in my wanks 
By not giving your cakes gropes & spanks 
As a proper way of saying, "Thanks" 

Whenever you're in my fantasies  
That fuck style is how you'll move 
It can be a frenzied fuck 
Or slow tender love 
Either way, my tensions are soothed 
Your glides & thrusts hitting the spot 
Undoing my tension knots 
Your moves are ecstasy  
In my fantasies 
Making orgasms 
In my masturbation's reality 

Your Body Moves

Poem telling the details leading up to the fantasy of a sexual encounter with the ghost of a pornstar

Ghost In My Sheets

A poem proposing a pleasure exchange to a teasing lover


Be that way, you tease 
Making me think I can touch beyond that cloth 
Then you won’t get these cakes 
So let’s try this again 

Can I touch your c*ck with my hand
Then you touch my a** with your hand? 
Can I then slap your c*ck with my a** cheek 
And you slap that cheek back with your c*ck? 
Can I then kiss your c*ck head with my puckered hole 
And you kiss it back by going inside? 
Can our back and forth kiss my walls 
While my walls kiss you back with squeezes of your shaft? 

So what’s it going to be? 
Is the chance to go beyond your cloth still a No? 
Or will we partake of my proposed exchange? 
Speak now or forever hold your peace 
Or you’ll get pent up 
From a lack of release 

My Proposed Exchange

Poem read and beats vocalized by LeNair Xavier

I’m yours  
With me, your body & soul you can entrust  
I’m yours  
You can look at me as if you’re possessed by lust 
I’m yours 
Undress me with your eyes, then your hands 
I’m yours 
Go slow to build tension in our dance 

I’m yours 
Admire the art of the clothing drop 
I’m yours 
Then suck on my pink lollipop 
I’m yours 
An early pop does not mean stop 
I’m yours 
If you make me pop, lick every drop 

I’m yours 
Go slow, but with passion as you go inside 
I’m yours 
No apologies for the speed passion drives our ride 
I’m yours 
So when one comes in,  there’s no pushing out 
I’m yours 
I hope every step ensures you won’t doubt 

I 
Am 
Yours

I'm Yours

Me revealing my HIV+ status at the "I Still Remember" reception at La Vie Galerie on World AIDS Day 2018 (12/1)

HIV Revelation @ "I Still Remember" on World AIDS Day 2018

An erotic poem telling how in a fuck train, I prefer to be the front (or the engine)

FUCK TRAIN ENGINE 

Hey Lover 
You said you got us a gift 
Having a cake-hungry somebody over 
To make hot sexy breaths 
Make hot breezes pass our shoulders 
For one of us, it could be 1 breath 
Or maybe it could be a pair 
Well, I hope you know what I like 
Let us see if you're aware 

I've been the engine car 
The passenger car 
Even the joy of being the caboose 
But the engine car is where I feel it all 
With so much pounding being far from abuse 

I don't want to drive, I want to be the ride 
Feeling you both so deep inside 
As every beat from the pumping behind 
Is a pleasing play with my mind 
As the front of the fuck train 
Whether my eyes are open or closed 
If the center catches the beat right 
Who's fucking me is what no one knows 

All I know is 
I'll feel the fuck rhythm change 
It will still be pleasing, yet strange 
For the pleasure that bared your name 
Might no longer be yours to claim 

So am I to be the fuck train engine? 
Is that what you have planned? 
Bodies on a sweet ride to orgasm 
Cock-chained man-to-man 
Follow my moans like a symphony 
Creating the sweetest 3 (or more) part harmony 
While your bodies take me for a ride 
Let it be my body 
That revs up your sex drive

Fuck Train Engine

A poetic ode to asses. Recorded at the erotica open mic event, Titillating Tongues held at  The Gallery at Le Poisson Rouge on May 17, 2013 

LeNair Xavier

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