"Orange is the New Black" Season 5 Nude Men

A lot of male nudity on Season 5 of Orange is the New Black, where the guards are taken hostage in their underwear.

1. The penis of CO Humphreys (or maybe a stunt cock).  Just ignore the stage blood.

2. A portly guard is stripped and given a "cavity search."

3. CO Stratman does a striptease.

4. Rear nudity of Driscoll (Charlie Barnett), Piscatella's boyfriend.  Here's Barnett having sex on screen in another of his acting roles.

5.  His assailant is tied to the shower.  Rear nudity.

The G-rated post is on Boomer Beefcake and Bonding

I Arrange Some Muscle-Daddy Hookups for Yuri

Plains, July 2014

I used to go to Europe at least once a year, sometimes twice.  But the vagaries of teaching, conferences, and job interviews, plus the extreme annoyance of flying today, have dampened my ardor a bit, and I don't go across the ocean much.

But not to worry, Europe comes to me.  Jaan from Estonia.  Eli from Amsterdam  Doc from Vienna, And Yuri several times.

I was anxious to see Yuri again, but also a little self-conscious.

He lived in London, one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. I lived in a small town in the Midwest.

He lived in the heart of Soho, London's gay neighborhood, with a hundred gay bars, restaurants, gyms, bath houses, bookstores, and retail outlets a stone's throw away.  I lived a hundred miles from the nearest gay bar.

What could I possibly do to entertain him?

I tentatively made a list of local sights.  We had a a scenic waterfall, a running path that led through the countryside, a downtown sculpture walk, and a historic mansion.

Yawn.

"What would you like to do while you're here?" I asked in a hesitant email.

" I want to go to the Severe Weather Research Center in Boulder.  That is not far, is it?"

I looked it up.  "Ok, a nine hour drive.  Anything local that you'd like to see?"

"Maybe the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota.  And the Little House on the Prairie -- I watched it when I was a kid.  And hot Prairie farmboys, for sure."

Gulp.  He wanted a hookup!

When I visited Yuri in London, he and Michael, his partner at the time, fixed me up with a guy who was exactly my type.

Yuri's type was at least 10 years older than him, muscular, preferably a bodybuilder, with a Mortadella+++ beneath the belt.

He was now 40 years old.  Where was I going to find a 50+ year old with those qualities?

Or any 50 year old?  They were vanishingly rare on Prairie.  Most middle-aged guys had long since packed up and moved to the big city, leaving only a few who were in monogamous relationships, a few straight guys on the down-low, and twinks.

I could get him a room full of twinks, but that wouldn't do the job.  So I did research, hung out on internet websites, called in favors, and planned a week's worth of Muscle Daddies to convince Yuri that the Plains weren't as desolate as everyone thought.

Saturday
Yuri arrived at 9:30 pm.  I picked him up at the airport and took him out to dinner at Minerva's, the best restaurant in town, and then home to share my bed overnight.

Yuri was in his first months of shifting from Regular Guy to Daddy.  He was bearded, a little craggy, a little gray, but still gym-toned, and still effervescent with good humor,

"It's a nice town," he said diplomatically.  "Quiet.  Not busy with cars like London."

Sunday
The 10:30 service at the Unitarian Church, followed by lunch with an older gay couple, Harold (Hank) in his 50s and Wayne in his 70s.  Both reasonably muscular and very big beneath the belt.

After lunch we went back to their house to sit naked in the hot tub.  I hoped the afternoon would lead to sharing, but instead they told Yuri their coming out stories: they were both married with children when they met 10 years ago at an outdoor cruising site.

Afterwards we drove around the city and looked at some of the old houses and mansions.

"Your friends are very nice," Yuri said diplomatically.  "Could we go to a gay bar tonight?"

"There aren't any exclusively gay bars in town.  There's a gay-friendly coffee house run by lesbians."

"Ok, we go there."

We listened to some karoake and then went home to bed.

Monday
I took off work to show Yuri some more sights.  We went to the gym, then to the Corn Palace in Mitchell, then to lunch and to see the waterfalls and the sculpture walk.

In the evening we went to the theater with a guy from campus I had hooked up with once or twice: Mike, a professor of education, black-haired, handsome, hairy chest, not particularly muscular but gifted beneath the belt, with at least a Kielbasa.

When Mike excused himself to go to the bathroom, I asked Yuri, "Cute, huh?  Want to share him tonight?"

"Oh -- well, I am your guest.  If you want to, we can share."

Not quite the enthusiasm I had hoped for, but ok.

During the sharing, Yuri mostly lay there, looking bored.

What was I doing wrong?

Tuesday
I had to go to my class, so I gave Yuri the car and let him drive himself around.  Later he told me that he went to Walnut Grove and the Western Heritage Museum.

After dinner, I had a surprise for Yuri: a M4M Party.

I advertised on craiglist and a few other places, and got a guest list of 12, mostly over 40, with a few twinks who were party regulars.

When the party began and everyone got naked, Yuri ignored the older guys and zeroed in on 20-year old Sandy, an undergrad at the University, a slim redhead with average beneath-the-belt gifts.  They spent most of the party kissing, and then Yuri invited him to stay after the other guests and spend the night.

Wait -- young, thin, no Mortadella.  What was going on?

Wednesday

In the morning, we had another session -- or, rather Yuri and Sandy did, while I got up, showered, and played around on my laptop in the living room. Eventually they got up and we all went out to breakfast.  Then Sandy had to go to class, and Yuri and I went to the gym.

"You certainly hit it off with Sandy!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, he will come to London to visit me soon.  Maybe at winter break."

"But don't you usually like older guys?"

He paused.  "I did, for a long time.  But when I turned into a Daddy, I thought, I am older, I will try younger.  And I like them.  They're not...full of weird problems, like older guys."

"So this whole week I've been trying to fix you up with older guys, and you like younger?"

"Wait -- they were for me?  I thought you liked older.  I was sharing to be nice."  He grinned.  "Tonight Sandy will bring his roommate over, ok?"

See also: My Night With Yuri, His Boyfriend, and the Emo Boy;  My Platonic Friends and Their Boy Toy

Nephew Sausage Sighting #5: "Do I Measure Up?"

After my parents moved to Indianapolis in 1995, I stayed with my brother on my visits to Rock Island, so I've had ample opportunity to get sausage sightings of his sons (I only count those after they turn 18, of course).  But a sausage sighting of my sister's son, Joseph, was much more difficult to accomplish.  Here's why:

Indianapolis, June 1996

Every summer my parents celebrate Dad's birthday with a barbecue for their family and friends, held the Saturday afternoon closest to June 6th.  My sister and I always try to plan our summer visits to coincide with them.  This year it should be easy for her, since Mom and Dad have moved to a small town south of Indianapolis, less than 10 miles from Tammy's house.

But she doesn't come to the birthday barbecue.

"Oh, they're busy," Mom says.  "[Her husband] Terry is working a lot of hours at the car dealership."

I call to suggest that we get together for lunch during my visit.  I get the answering machine.

I try again.  She doesn't return my call.  After I fly back to San Francisco, I try a third time.  No answer.

I ask Mom what the problem is.

"You'll have to work it out between you," she says.  "Don't drag me into it."

No birthday card in November.

I stay in San Francisco for Christmas.  I send Tammy a present, but she doesn't send me one.  I call on Christmas Day, but after a "Hi!  How are you?", she makes an excuse and hangs up.

No more contact.  Tammy and Terry and their son cease to exist.

As far as I can tell, they figured "it" out, and they recoiled in homophobic horror.

My family practices a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.  They never actually use the "g" word, or refer to my boyfriends as boyfriends ("This is Lane, Boomer's...um...friend").   Still, after meeting Viju, Fred, and Lane, and hearing about Alan, Raul, Peter, David, Corbin the Gym Rat, Kevin the Vampire, and Michael J. Fox, you'd think Tammy would get a clue.

Apparently not.

Oddly, my brother, the fundamentalist Nazarene,  always invites me to stay at his house, and has no qualms about putting me in the bedroom next to his teenage nephews.  Not a problem.  It's Tammy, the liberal Methodist, who freaked out, who didn't want me around her kid.

Silence.  I hear about Tammy and her family from my mother's weekly telephone calls, but I have no contact.  

Indianapolis, June 2002

Then, after six years of ostracism, Tammy shows up at the 2002 Birthday Barbecue, bearing gifts, asking if I have met "a special guy," chatting and joking as if nothing has happened.

Approaching 40, she has become plump, almost zaftig.

Her husband Terry is bald and buffed, almost ready to become a leather daddy.

And Joseph, age 12, is slim, fey, and theatrical.  He has done some modeling for magazines, starred in a local tv commercial, and now he is starring in a community theater production of The Little Prince.

"Oh, you have to come!" Tammy exclaims.  "It would mean so much to him!"

I hate The Little Prince, and I doubt that the fey, theatrical blond cares very much about a guy he hasn't seen since he was five years old, but I go.

The next day, Tammy invites me out for pizza.  "You have to tell Joseph all about your life in New York!  Didn't you meet a lot of Broadway stars?  And Andrew Lloyd Weber?"

Edinburgh, Indiana, September 2005

I'm living in Dayton, which is only two hours from Indianapolis, so I can visit whenever I want.  Like when my nephew Joseph is singing at a regional glee club competition in Edinburgh, Indiana.

Joseph (never Joe) is fifteen years old, a kinky-haired blond, very fey, swishy and limp-wristed, with that nasal "gay accent" voice.  He wears bright pastel shirts and tight bulging jeans and plastic bracelets.

In spite of his parents' assurance that he is "girl-crazy," he never mentions a girl, but he has a series of male pals.

Definitely gay.

And his parents are always pushing us together, sending us out for pizzas, asking me to pick him up from school, inviting me to all of his recitals, plays, and concerts.

I suspect that they're looking for me to be a role model, showing him that it's ok to be gay.

Without anyone ever saying the "g" word.



Indianapolis, December 2008

Joseph is eighteen years old, still a fey, swishy blonde.  He's a freshman at Indiana University, planning to major in East Asian Languages and theater.

A few days before Christmas, he calls. "Can you come up to the house this afternoon?  I want to ask you something."

While your Mom and Dad are at work?  What for?

"Well, why can't you ask over the phone?"

"No, it has to be in person.  It's private -- I'm a little nervous about it."

I'm nervous, too.  I don't understand what Joseph is planning. Is he just going to come out?  Or does he expect an uncle-nephew sexual escapade?


When I arrive at Tammy's house, Joseph offers me a handshake -- his hand is damp! -- then sits me down on the couch. next to the Christmas tree.  We're sitting very close together.  I put the cat on my lap and start petting her to get my mind off my crotch.

"I'm kind of nervous," he says.  "It's...well, you know, I've never done it...you know, sex...before."

Uh-oh.  He is planning on sex!  

"You're an expert on this sort of thing, so...um...I need your honest opinion."

Before I can respond, he drops his pants, displaying an average sized cut penis and rather small balls.

I stare, very uncomfortable.  I certainly don't intend to go down on Joseph.  His parents trust me around him!  But...are they pushing us together?  Do they expect something to happen?

"What...um...are you showing me your cock for?"

"I might have a chance to have sex next week, on New Year's Eve, and I was wondering, am I big enough?" Joseph says.  "I mean, you've seen a lot of cocks.  Do I measure up?"

Um...I could judge better if I could see it aroused.

No, I don't say that!

"Don't worry, dude, you're totally hot.  Any guy would be glad to go out with you."

"Or any girl?"

"Huh?"

"My date's with a girl.  We've been going out for a couple of months now, and she said on New Year's Eve she wants to go all the way."

Joseph is straight?  Or maybe bi?

Oh well, at least, I got a sausage sighting.

See also: Is My Nephew Gay?; and The Best Friend of Terry the Homophobe