4 1/2 hours after takeoff from Boston, I’m landing…My nose is glued to the window of the 737, waiting for the first sight of land at the very first light of dawn…

Up ahead, she appears…a lush island with nearly every shade of green. I see waterfalls cascading over the sides of mountains and into a sea that, surprisingly, looks as flat as glass on this September day…

Immediately, we’re making love, she and I…Old lovers, evidently. You know how when you meet a True Love for the first time, and it feels like you’re reconvening after years…or maybe even lifetimes…apart.

Needless to say, I had found my new island paradise. These islands reminded me of Hawaii, with a slightly more temperate climate, yet where guavas grow alongside tea plantations. The Azores were a land said to be completely uninhabited by humans until 500 years ago, when the Portuguese landed there, over 1200 km to the west of their mainland Europe home.

Today, it’s still quite a small population who call these islands home. Azorians live a surprisingly-self-sustaining existence, with large tracts of land used for cattle, corn, and abundant agricultural bounty. It seems nearly every form of dairy product can be found here, not to mention village life where you can go buy your meat from an actual butcher who has devoted his life to his trade.

Visitors have increased in the past 10 years, as has the population of Europeans from the mainland, as well as some Canadian expats (even fewer Americans), but best I can tell--at least from a newcomer’s point of view--the place is still held by some sort of magical hands of nature gods & goddesses. It feels protected…so much that I’m aware that I feel a bit hesitant to say too much right now, but I also have come to know this island as having full agency as to who comes there to honor and love…

For now, those who’ve been reading my last 2 newsletters know that I’ve extended an invitation for 1 man with a sense of adventure and a true interest in learning more about nature-heart connection, erotic dreamspace, sexual shamanism, Tantra, and transformational eroticism to come join me for 5 days and 4 nights of heart-filled, intimate exploration into the depths of who we are and why we’ve come, in the loving arms of this beautiful and magical place.

I’ve completed a Beautiful, Refined Azores Oct. 1-5, 2026 Itinerary for interested ones to feast your eyes and hearts upon the feast which has been laid before us, bearing in mind that about 1 year from now, I intend to take a small group of up to 7 or 9 to Sao Miguel Island, Azores for a 5-to-7-day Tantra retreat. For now, if the shoe fits, put it on and trot on over to my Let’s Go Azores Google form to answer a few exploratory questions that will help bring the reality of joining me in the Azores this Oct. 1-5 even closer.

In the meantime, continuing with the tradition I started in my last Substack article, Here is One More Great Way to Stay Present During Sex

Stop, Look & Breathe. This one is important, because it helps you and your fuckbuddy-lover get deeply connected with your excitement without ejaculating too quickly. When you feel like you’re getting super-aroused, STOP moving, look into your lover’s eyes, and take several deep breaths together in stillness. You may need to invite your buddy to join you, with gentle words like, “Hey, sexy…can we just stop for a minute and breathe together? I almost blew my load just now, but if I look in your eyes and breathe with you, I can keep going forever…”. It’s true—just stopping, looking at your lover-fuckbuddy, and breathing will enable you to enjoy sex for as long as you like.

Upcoming News: I’m developing more ways you can join me face to face online to explore with an openness of heart, curiosity, and wonder. I’m also getting ready to announce multiple-day 1-on-1 and small-group retreats, much like what I’m offering in the Azores this October, in the form mid-winter deep-dives at my home in Asheville, as well as personalized 1-on-1 retreats in coastal Oaxaca, Mexico in February! Stay tuned!

Here’s a powerful medicine song I recorded, in “naked innocence,” yesterday on my favorite high mountain meadow outside of Asheville, NC USA, where I picked and savored some fresh wild blueberries:

The song was taught to me by a grandmother at a gathering of Appalachian singers and musicians at the beginning of summer. For me, it represents the story of how I was born into a world where people had long been praying and dreaming for me, for countless generations, and reminder that I am here to be that prayer now, for those who’ve yet to come.

First, Some BIG Announcements, followed by

3 Free Tantric Sex Tips for Gay Lovers!

CINCINNATI AUG. 30-SEPT. 3

I’m coming back to Cincinnati to see summer out with a BANG Aug. 30 to Sept. 3. I’ve rented a gorgeous penthouse-style apartment on the 4th floor of a beautiful historic building, where I’ll be offering 1-on-1 and couples’ sessions in Tantric-erotic intimacy & erotic magic. Click here to read more & sign up for one of the 4 remaining session spots I have left August 30-Sept. 3 in Cincinnati!

ORLANDO/ST. PETE SEPT. 10-14?

I’m also toying with the idea of coming to Orlando or St. Pete Sept. 10-13 and staying at a sweet apartment in the area around/between Ivanhoe Village and/or Mills 50. Be one of the first 2 to sign up and I’ll be there! Follow this link to the types of sessions I’m offering there, pick one, answer a few questions about what’s inspiring you about our Tantric rendezvous, and I’ll be there!

APPALACHIAN PARADISE AUGUST 20-30 (and all year long)!

I happen to live in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, where AUGUST is a grand month to enjoy the lingering summer days with cool nights. I’m inviting you to consider a multiple-day personalized retreat with here. Come! There’s still plenty of time to plan your getaway TODAY.

Just follow this link for details about visiting me for indoor/outdoor Tantric-erotic fun while the warm weather lasts, or consider cozying up with me in my home/temple space in November or early December for a 3-day personalized 1-on-1 or couples’ retreat and enjoying forays into the beautiful mountain surroundings in between our hot, sweaty sessions😁.

MEN’S EROTIC TEMPLE PLAY SPACE

ASHEVILLE, NC, USA

Sunday, August 23, 1-6 PM!

I hope you’ll consider coming to my Men’s Erotic Temple Play Space on August 23, a 5-hour-long Sunday afternoon event devoted to the exploration of whole-body naked, ecstatic erotic play among a group of MEN! YUM! I’m co-facilitating it with my fellow TantraDaddy, David Salih.

CLICK HERE for DETAILS & REGISTRATION!

Getting to Asheville, North Carolina:

If you’re lucky enough to live within a reasonable driving distance, that makes it easy, but if you live further away, you may find it even easier to get here by flying nonstop to AVL (for as little as $45 each way, in 60-90 minutes!) from NYC, Philly, Chicago, and most Florida cities, or even from Denver or Las Vegas, also nonstop (2.5-4 hours), on Allegiant and other airlines! I’m happy to send you a list of AirBnB’s I’ve picked out for you.

AZORE ISLANDS (PORTUGAL) SEPT. 23-OCT 7!

I visited Sao Miguel Island, a lush and remote paradise in the middle of the Atlantic, in summer/fall 2024, and fell in love! So I’m coming back to visit my lush, verdant lover, Sao Miguel, landing the morning after the autumn equinox!

I have a divine place to stay, with 2 bedrooms, and would relish taking one sweet, curious, adventurous man by the hand, showing him the island, and doing what I love to do: sing, pray, and dance together in the realms of ecstatic Tantric eroticism. Come! I anticipate taking a small group there next year, but for now, it’s time to writhe in the lusciousness of 1-on-1 privacy and communion with the great One.

Getting to Sao Miguel Island, Azores:

Nonstop to Ponta Delgada (PDL) from Boston or Newark (4.5 hours), Amsterdam (4.5 hours), London (3.5 hours) or Lisbon (2.5 hours)

Plan your own getaway and have an indoor/outdoor session with me there, or contact me to plan a 4-day-long personalized Tantra retreat of magic, learning, and awakening on the island of Sao Miguel. Lodge with me and enjoy meals together, as well as excursions and sessions! Details for the Azores, Colorado/New Mexico (November), and Oaxaca Coast, Mexico (February 2027) soon appearing here, or just reply to this email to set up an exploratory call with me.

TANTRIC SEX SECRETS ON VIDEO

Announcing my comprehensive OnlyFans!

I think it’s safe to say that I’ve kept it “secret” rather unintentionally…“secret” only because I had so much fucking fun FILMING the hundreds of hours of video footage that it took me almost 7 years to get around to editing them, until…

I took a “staycation” July 17-27, which meant laying around the house and doing nothing except follow my inspiration. One morning, I found myself curled up on the couch, all cozy, phone in hand, rediscovering a backlog of mind-blowing sex videos I had made!

I couldn’t resist loading them into my video editing app, “just for fun”.

Next thing I know, I’m riding wave after wave of hard-on bliss for hours on end, and then…voila! 2 weeks later, I’ve got tons of wildly fun content uploaded to my OnlyFans, automatically appearing before the eyes of excited men world-wide!

If you want to enjoy seeing what I’ve been creating for years, I would encourage you--independently of anything else that you see on OF--to see my profile as a platform where I can freely share my heart-felt, inspiring, explicitly erotic creations with you.

I’ve set a modest subscription price, which is barely any more than I was charging for Substack, before Stripe (a notoriously-conservative payment processor) cancelled my account, meaning…

My Substack is now free for all! This is great news! I’m ready for the writing, audio, and artistically beautiful videos I share via Substack to propagate the world! Yes, let’s enjoy this!

On the other hand, if you want to enjoy and learn from my life’s work as a teacher of Tantra and erotic magic, from the comfort of your own home…

One of the best ways is to follow this link to my OnlyFans

Support my passionate erotic creations by way of a reasonable subscription of $7.77 (US) per month. Thank you, in advance!

If you’re curious what I’ve been putting out there for the world to see every single day, here’s an overview, followed by the 3 Free Sex Tips for Gay Lovers which I promised in the opening of this email.

Enjoy!

MONDAYS & THURSDAYS: The EROTIC CELEBRATION of TANTRIC LOVERS.

These are full-length videos of sexual magic and Tantric exploration with me and my lovers, students, and fellow explorers. So far, I’ve released Jack-Off Magic with Will Tantra, multiple Tantric Sex scenes with my lover Augusto in Mexico, and a 33-minute video of one of the most ecstatic Tantric-erotic sessions I’ve ever filmed, with a lover/student in P-Town.

TUESDAYS: JACK-OFF BRIEFS

Short, provocative, highly-arousing jack-off clips actively demonstrating techniques from my free audio guide, Evolutionary Tantric Masturbation.

THURSDAYS: TANTRA & KINK

What’s “high and holy” about being a kinky fucker? Explore the magical meeting point of heightened arousal & purposeful intent, beginning with a multi-part series I created with Daddy Will Tantra.

FRIDAYS: DURDY FUKR STORYTELLING

I recorded a WHOLE SERIES of smoking hot self pleasure videos, all over the woods and beaches of the world, stroking and edging myself while telling you one of the HOTTEST edging stories I have ever experienced in all of my robust years as a sex-play ASSficionado.

SATURDAYS & SUNDAYS: GAY TANTRIC SEX TIPS

3 Saturdays ago, I began my long awaited series, “Gay Tantric Sex Tips,” with teachings I delivered from a beach in Puerto Rico several years ago, interspersed with sex scenes I’ve filmed to actively demonstrate Tantric Sex secrets.

And Now…

3 TANTRIC SEX TIPS for GAY LOVERS

1. Forget About Fucking and Cumming. Sex, for most men, has become an agenda which goes something like this: Get Hard, Get Inside, Cum. Who created this agenda, and when did we agree to sign up? Sex is a celebration—not a performance. What would happen if you set out to have sex with your fuckbuddy, lover, or partner, curious to see what would happen if there was no agenda to fuck…or even cum? You could experiment for 15 or 20 minutes…or even set out to enjoy a whole sex session without ejaculating or fucking.…

2. Practice the fine art of frot-fucking. This tip adds a new layer to tip #1 (Forget about fucking and cumming). Oil up your dicks, get face to face, and make out for at least 20 minutes. If you have an underwear or jock fetish, you might even stay in your underwear for the first 20 minutes, just to explore face-to-face excitement and fun. Stay with it for a good 20 minutes or more—putting aside all other sexual agendas except cock-to-cock, body-to-body fun…and watch how the energy builds! You’ll be amazed how excited you’ll get…so excited that you’ll need tip #3 to keep from squirting your jizz too soon.

3. Stop, Look & Breathe. This one is important, because it helps you and your fuckbuddy-lover get deeply connected with your excitement without ejaculating too quickly. When you feel like you’re getting super-aroused, STOP moving, look into your lover’s eyes, and take several deep breaths together in stillness. You may need to invite your buddy to join you, with gentle words like, “Hey, sexy…can we just stop for a minute and breathe together? I’m just about to cum already, but if I look in your eyes and breathe with you, I can keep going forever…”. It’s true—just stopping, looking at your lover-fuckbuddy, and breathing will enable you to have sex for as long as you like.

See these Gay Tantric Sex Tips actively demonstrated throughout my collection of intimate erotic videos at onlyfans.com/AmberheartBrad.

Thank you for supporting me in my expressive creations of written word, spoken word, and teachings-in-action!

He’s been on oxygen since covid, and tells me his lung capacity is slowly but surely decreasing with each passing day…

But of course, he is not alone. How many of us, in actuality, know how many more days we have left on this Earth?

Meanwhile, we gathered…6 naked men by his gorgeously-illuminated pool last night. Steadily, most surely, we entered into a state which could be called none other than “euphoric, blissful, Oneness with the divine”. We did it by…

Fuck, how did we do it? We did it by connecting deeply to one another’s hearts, unencumbered by the incessantly-churning mind and the tightness in our chests. Fuck, we even did it unencumbered by clothes…

And now, day breaks. I sit naked, seeing the sun come up over a landscape I last saw covered in snow, when I stopped through St. Louis last January, en route to sunnier and brighter destinations. For 2 nights running, in the midst of deep winter, 6 or 8 men gathered in a basement…writhing in naked blissful oneness yet again, till no one knew how long we had been there, nor how much longer any of us would survive, frankly.

6 months later, it’s another season of life. Here we are, caressed by summer breezes at night, while lighting and thunder accentuate our moans and groans and all manner of expressions of pig-squealing joy. What were we “doing” last night? Being, Ms. Honey, Being…

ORGASM no longer is relegated to the basements of suck-fuck-cum. I tell you this from experience, and 5 other men can vouch for me, after last night.

I don’t know when I’ll be back in St. Louis. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll be back for another sunrise. For all I fucking know, this could be my last fucking day on Earth, and yeah…that would be fine. Fuck, I think we’ve finally come to know Earth as it is in Heaven…which must’ve meant we died…to something…that just wasn’t working anymore…

And so here we are, reuniting with the Great Oneness by way of laughter, tears, heartache, and pain.

I did it. You did it. We did it! We don’t know how it happened, except that a lifetime of experience, along with the complete lack of a guarantee of another day, has carried us thus far, so bless it be, and Gay-Men, and Hallelujah!

Want to join me for the next adventure? My beloved friend David and I are continuing our “Tantric Activation” series in our hometown of Asheville, North Carolina on the JULY FULL MOON (known at the BUCK MOON), July 25, a Wednesday night. We’ll probably have it the home of me and my sweet partner, Jimmy…or in David’s back yard under the moon, and I would say we might have room for approximately…12 lucky men, maybe 14, including us.

If you aren’t lucky enough to be in Southern Appalachia at the time of the high-summer moon, don’t despair. We’re going to do this again on August 22 and/or 23rd. Maybe you can come for a weekend? We don’t have tickets for sale just yet for that one (since we’re currently busy facilitating a 2nd event by the pool tonight in St. Louis), but when we’re ready to announce the August 22 & 23 event(s), they will be posted right here, on my “groups” page, and…I’ll send you another note, like this🌞.

And finally…I realize that jumping on airplanes is a great luxury…and at a cost to the environment…so my approach is to use those resources wisely. Every fiber of my heart, body, and soul is calling me back to a special place that I first discovered in the summer and fall or 2024. I’ve booked a flight to the life-changing Azore Islands (far western island chain of Portugal, 4.5 hour flight from Boston or Newark, 2-hour flight from Lisbon, Portugal, 3.5 hours from London, 4 hours from Amsterdam) on the fall Equinox, Sept. 22, and I’m staying until Oct. 7, 8, 9, 10 or 11 (hint: no return flight yet) to honor my heart, write, resource my visions, rejuvenate, and maybe even weave some magic with some other human beings.

And this is where you come in…

I would love for 1, 2, or 3 men to call me up and fully employ my time, resources, and gifts as an intimate heart-companion and artist of vision, to help YOU create a fantastic personal 1-on-1 or small-group retreat for you and your loved ones on the fantastic island of Sao Miguel at the very end of September and first half of October!

My German friend, who’s renting me her house on the far western end of the island while she’s away, says that late September and early October are, by far, the very BEST time of the year to visit the Azores. Just to compare notes, I asked ChatGPT “what’s the weather like at the western end of Sao Miguel Island, Azores, in late September and early October,” and they said: “Sept. 22 to October 6 is considered one of the very best times of the year to visit the Azores, particularly at the western end of Sao Miguel, where you’ll have occassional rain (usually of short duration), with a number of bright, sunny days. That part of Sao Miguel is also known for its sunsets, and the beaches are in full sun for longer than any other part of the island”.

So what now?

I’m offering a personalized retreat for 1, 2, or possibly 3 men, 5 to 7 days, between Sept. 30 and October 8. On my last trip, I explored the whole 60-kilomoter-long island by car and found secret spots in the forests, hidden beaches, and even natural springs.

Email me back and we can talk details! Soon, I’ll likely construct a web page with more details and suggested rates, but for now, I invite you to build it together with me! Just know that this option is available for men who have some experience with deep erotic intimacy, and who feel adventurous in terms of experiencing a remote and beautiful island with my support and guidance.

For now, I’m on a “staycation” at home in Asheville, NC, touching my high-mountain favorite camping spots at the height of summer, taking a little jaunt down to Key West in late August to play with my favorite hobby of offering “baptisms” in the warm waters where the Gulf meet the Atlantic. I made a page on my website to make it easier for anyone who would like to join me in Key West or Asheville for transformational healing and awakening on land and in water , where I’ll also be adding information about the Azores trip in September-October, so let me know your intentions!

I hope this beautiful little love note at the Climax of Summer finds you well!

Affectionately,

Brad

So I’m going to share my first 54-second underwater aquatic video, created with one of my lovers, Max, during the days of COVID in 2020. I’m sharing it with an announcement that I’m bring my aquatic practice out in the open now…

I’ll be in Key West this Sunday to Thursday, June 28 to July 2, holding sacred ceremony with a friend in memory of his partner of 20 years, who died in his sleep on May 31. That friend and I have journeyed several times, at the break of day, to the place where the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic meet. There, in the water with him, moving his body and “flying” beneath and around him in the warm waters, I have discovered how the realm of what we once knew as “death” is actually the same as the place we were before we were born.

I doubt I’ll have enough time to do any water sessions in Key West this visit, other than with my bereaved friend and his loved ones. However, I will be back in Key West in July and/or August and will plan ahead…likely July 20-23 and August 16-20. Available times for Aquatic Rebirth sessions are already appearing here, on this special new Aquatic Rebirth page on my website, devoted to my new favorite hobby in the world.

For now, I’m ecstatic to announce that a very sweet man in St. Louis has offered me his warm-water pool for delicious sensual-erotic fun with men July 8-13! Of course, I’ll also be offering my usual sessions in BED, as well as the pool, but the trip has presented an excellent excuse to expand my offerings to include 2-and-1, 2-on-2, and GROUP Tantric-Erotic experimentation (in and near water) with my fellow Tantra Daddy, David Salih. You can click here to read all about what I/we are going to be doing on our kinky little fun trip to St. Louis.

Meanwhile, we’re also starting to offer monthly men’s Tantra exploratory groups in our hometown of Asheville. The next one is on that HOT July Full Moon, July 29. More to come in my next writing (which won’t be too long, I promise).

For now, here’s another teaser for the fun in St. Louis July 8-13.

See You Soon!

Brad

Aquatics, Eros, & Groups in St. Louis!

SLC May 10-13. CLICK HERE for More Info.

“Is My (Sex) Life Really Over?”:

A 1-Page Handwritten Story of How One Man’s Sex Live Completely Changed in 1 Day

Do you find yourself wondering how that could be…that “Orgasmic bliss” could be possible with or without a hard-on, sucking, or fucking?

You’re going to be seeing and hearing a lot more about whole-body orgasmic bliss, here. …

The story and affirmations I began writing on the two handwritten pages above are the beginning of a series of potent truths about whole-body orgasmic bliss, which I’ll be continuing to share in upcoming posts, and which are likely to give birth to a live performance piece…or, should I say, many live performance pieces.

For those who would like to hear more, NOW, I staged an impromptu reading in the Pisgah National Forest immediately after I completed my 14 pages of handwritten prose and poetry on May 1, Beltane morning! Here is the live video recording of the first reading, in tribute to my loyal paid subscribers! Thank you!

Ecstatic Whole-Body Orgasmic Bliss: The Death of the Old Self

(an impromptu first reading of original prose and poetry by Brad Amberheart)

Please join me for immersive 1-on-1 transformational Tantric-erotic experiences in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains surrounding Asheville, North Carolina this summer! You can read more here.

Join Me this Summer

Here’s the written version of the story I told in video and audio today (above)

I found myself sitting on the floor, leaning my back against the wall in the airport and opening my guitar case. Other than for TSA, it was the first time I had taken my guitar out of its case in an airport in years. Strangely enough, raising the instrument to my bosom, putting the strap over my head to hold it close to me, and strumming the first chord, all I could think was, “Am I breaking the rules?”

It felt like a really strange thought to me. After all, everybody knows there’s no “rule” about playing your guitar in an airport, right? Right. But when, might I ask, is the last time you saw anyone get out their guitar at your airport gate, and start playing? I’m betting 1 in 10,000 or 1 in 100,000 people might say “Yes, I did see that once…”. Yes, there is a slim chance you saw it, somewhere, sometime…maybe a long time ago, perhaps even recently…or maybe it was just in a movie…

A movie, yes. That’s where you saw it, and that’s what I’m living right now…only this “movie” is my life!

The first chord is an E minor. Yes, a minor chord seems fitting. The chord resounds in my heart, as I find a low tone that vibrates my breastbone in resonance with the vibration of the strings.

My guitar is slightly out of tune from being lifted up and down 39,000 feet each direction, so I fumble through my phone to find the app I use for tuning. This time my app is suggesting a song I might like to learn, and as is often the case, I’m distracted by the lyrics and chords that have suddenly appeared on the screen of my phone, and I temporarily forget about tuning.

The lyrics are from the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day. My phone tells me it’s from the album American Idiot! The chords and lyrics light up on the screen as I start to strum them and sing the melody.

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don’t know where it goes
But it’s home to me, and I walk alone

Fuck yes! This feels like the right song to sing in this fucking boring, drab airport right now. Yahhhsssss! As I continue singing, the thought dawns on me that I was born less than 3 miles from where I’m sitting now, in Charlotte, North Carolina, on a 3-hour layover between Mexico City and Washington, DC.

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I’m the only one, and I walk alone

I feel great satisfaction in the AI miracle of my phone somehow finding exactly the song that’s needed right here, now, and yet, oddly enough, I can still feel my heartbeat speeding up with adrenaline--not only because I’m actually singing in an airport, but also because there’s some instinctual voice inside of me that’s saying I’m not supposed to be doing this.

Whose voice is this? Who is this voice in me, saying “Stop singing. You’re not supposed to be doing this!”?

I’m walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the borderline
Of the edge, and where I walk alone

My body starts to relax a little bit, as I sing and I start to realize that no one appears to be reacting. This is a good thing, because I’m not singing for a reaction.

I’m singing to calm my heart and my mind, and to prove to this body that there is enough space for it on this Earth to exist…maybe even thrive in a world which appears to be becoming more and more dead by the second.

The people around me could not seem more dead to the world unless they were lying on the ground, bleeding. I feel like I’m among the walking dead, but my heart is coming alive again.

Never mind that a mere 20 minutes ago, a US Customs agent, when I told him I was opting out of the biometric-data photo, pointed to the long line of non-US citizens and told me, “You can go get in that line…or you can be done in 15 seconds if you stay in this line and have your photo taken”…

Read between the lines
What’s fucked up, and everything’s alright
Check my vital signs
To know I’m still alive, and I walk alone

I was coming back from vacation. I was so balanced, so at peace, that I was able to stand in front of this so-called “authority” for what felt like a full 60 seconds, letting him know that I cross this border often, that I always have been given the option of having my passport read manually, and that I’ve never been told to go get in the line of non-US citizens if I opted out of the (biometric data) photo...

After what felt like an eternity of standing in front of him, I started to tremble slightly in my heart. “I’m the authority of my life, not you,” I said to him, silently, between the lines, grounding my energy into the Earth, until eventually, that authority in me said, “Just take the picture and move on. You have better things to do with your energy than to miss your flight and live in fear of having your picture taken. Move on.”

“Welcome back, have a nice day” the asshole said, as I walked forward, not looking back.

My shadow’s the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating
Sometimes, I wish someone out there will find me
‘Til then, I walk alone

Jesus Christ, this song gives me chills…

Slowly, leaning against this airport wall, my heart is relaxing into the sense of relief that here in America, the Land of the Free, I can rest assured that no one is listening to me. Right now, in this instant, it seems I have never felt so relieved to be invisible, for inside of that invisibility, my heart can find its own beat.

I’m noticing that a rather elderly black man in a baseball cap has walked over to stand next to me, leaning against the wall. I glance his way and detect a hint of curiosity on his face. I wonder if the lyrics of “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” are resonating with him. But this song is almost over, and now, I have to decide what will be the next song I sing. There’s no break between the songs. The words come immediately, on their own accord,

This ain’t a song for the broken-hearted…

Yes, more minor chords, Bon Jovi, somewhat-similar genre, and true to my heart right now…

No silent prayer for faith departed…

I’m looking straight ahead, watching people walking fast, criss-crossing in front of me. In my peripheral vision, the old man standing is still standing beside me, motionless, occasionally sneaking a glance at me.

The main in the nearest row of seats, facing me, has his headphones in and is scrolling on his phone…Passengers are getting off the plane that I’m about to get on, walking away from me, their backs to me and my guitar…

I’m looking for any signs any movement that my song might be creating around me. The melodies and words coming out of me mark the triumph of the human spirit, in a world that feels so dead that we wonder how we can possibly be alive in it, but no one around me is responding in any way. I can sit can sing to my heart’s content, and while I feel relieved that no one’s trying to stop me, I also am noticing the weight of loneliness.

If I just keep on singing, I think to myself, people who want to hear it will come closer, and people who don’t want to hear it will move further away…

But nothing seems to be changing. Crowds whiz by, and people just keep sitting, right where they are, looking down at their phones…What an interesting laboratory!

And then…the music stops. I stop singing to prepare to board my flight, but before I can even rise to my feet, one person after the other is coming up to me to tell me how touched they were by my singing and playing😁. I’m boarding the plane, and people in line with me on the jetway are telling me “Your songs really meant a lot to me”. Now I’m in my seat, on the plane to Washington, DC, and the guy next to me is telling me how much he enjoyed my songs…

He told me he worked for the government. In fact, I think he told me too much about the project he was working on abroad. I was all ears, but I promise…I’m not going to tell you anything, except what I learned by singing my song.

Blessed Be, and Much Love!

Brad

Please join me for immersive 1-on-1 transformational Tantric-erotic experiences in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains surrounding Asheville, North Carolina this summer! You can read more here.

Join Me this Summer

I slept in a rather simple shack just a couple of blocks from the beach for the last 10 days of my life, in the very-gay beach town of Zipolite, Mexico. Even earplugs couldn’t block out the noise of the naked gay cruising bar across the street, but I slept like a baby anyway. As I would fall asleep at night, if I so chose, I could see perfectly well the throngs of naked men, buttfucking to their heart’s content, just a few meters from where I slept, and that sensation, in of itself, brought more than enough tingling heart-to-cock satisfaction to me.

Why leave my bed, when I can have it all, right here? I know how to do this…

Besides, I prefer having my fun in the broad daylight, on a beach filled with men naked and…much to my wrestling-fantasy delight--men sporting speedos and muscle bodies and furry bear-builds while having lunch at sidewalk cafes.

How could I be so lucky, not only to spend my days swimming in a sea of hot men, but to be able to sleep soundly for 9 hours each night? How I manage to sleep like a baby, everywhere I go, is a story in and of itself. For now, it would be enough to say that I I’ve curtailed my caffeine and sugar intake to one single coffee, first thing in the morning, and I put my electronics away from dinnertime until sometime in the mid-late morning…

Then again, there are no absolutes. I might sleep soundly for 9 hours each night, but it’s not continuous. I almost always wake up at some point in the midst of my sound sleep because the reality is that I’m a 53-year-old man who has to get up and pee during the pre-dawn hours. Furthermore (and on a more metaphysical level), just as the sun itself was eclipsed by the moon somewhere in the world last Tuesday, Feb. 17, it’s also true that inside of each night of sound sleep sporadically comes a waking moment, like a flash in the dark…

So I’m here to tell you the story of how, a few nights ago, in the middle of the night, one of my earplugs slipped out and I awoke the sound of Deep Bass…

The thump-thump-thump wasn’t coming from the naked gay cruise bar across the street, either. This time, it was more distant…so subtle that if I turned over in bed and put my less-keen ear in the pillow, I couldn’t hear anything at all. But I lay still, with my “good ear” open, holding my breath for a moment or two, listening carefully for the beats in between the sounds of each breaking wave, trying to discern where the music could be coming from, and then, suddenly, without any thought at all, I was on my feet, pulling on nothing more than a pair of skimpy, night-stealthy black underwear and heading out the door. I checked the time on my phone on the way: 3:20 AM.

My feet are following the beat. Instinctively, I can feel that I’ve done this many, many times before. This is not the first time in my life when a beat has called me out of my sleep, out of my home. Nor is this the first lifetime when I have followed the beat, out of my safety, out of my comfort, naked, into the unknown, and into the dark…

The morning birds have not even made their first twitter-tweet, as my feet carry me down the dark alley, turning left past the Casa Nudista guest house, then turning right again on a rocky dirt trail that leads between a hotel and a mangrove swamp, out to the beach. My feet and my body know which way to go because with every step, the drumbeat grows louder…until…

I’m entering the vast, wild expanse of the beach, with a sea of stars in front of me and the pounding of surf competing with the sound of the bass, now merging with my heartbeat as I see flashing lights and the silhouettes of people dancing in the sand.

Zipolite Beach, according to local lore (and this is not a confirmed fact), was basically uninhabited until the 1970’s, when a few gringo hippies arrived to find this deserted beach, in the far south of Mexico, where they could go naked and make love in the light of the full moon. Evidently, the area had been unattractive to local Zapotec natives (at least as a place to live year-round), probably because it didn’t rain for 7 months of the year, but also because Zipolite meant “Beach of the Dead”. For the typical Western mind, of course, Death would not be an attraction! However, for people who have lived, died, danced, and sustained themselves forever in one place, with a deep connection to the Earth and the ancestors who have walked there before them, “Death” is something to be revered and honored. Hence, “Beach of the Dead” would be a highly honorable name, when viewed from the perspective of people who revere and honor Death.

Remarkably, even after 50 years of development, Zipolite remains one of the darkest public beaches I’ve ever seen. A few sporadic night spots may have a few flashing lights, but in between, you’ll only find darkness, stars, and yes…sometimes men wandering, naked or very scantily-clad, lustful and on the hunt.

Tonight, it’s so late (or, maybe you could say, it’s so early) that it seems I’m the only human around. But the once-distant booming bass grows louder, as I exit the mangroves and my footsteps take me out out onto the cool, open expanse of sand. The few flashing lights of tonight’s pop-up disco are not enough to obscure the rich, thick darkness, the arc of the Milky Way stretching across the southeastern sky, and yes--the telltale, kite-shaped constellation I’ve only seen a few times in my lifetime: The Southern Cross.

There, right beneath the Southern Cross, are the silhouettes of a small cluster of people, moving and undulating their bodies to the persistent, resounding beat…

I can tell they’ve been there dancing a long time. These are the die-hards, alongside the drunk, the high, and the “fuck-it-all’s”. And here I am, called out of my bed, in my underwear, right there with them. But I just walk on past. Everything in me wants to dance, but something in me prefers to share my time and heart with Her, Mother Ocean, alone…

So I go to the water’s edge to dance with her, for what seems like the longest time, yet no time at all. The die-hards dance in the light, and I, well…I dance in the dark, praying to Her to just let me be safe to dance and sing to Her with a loving, grateful heart. I know I won’t be here long. I came to honor Her, and to feel my whole heart and my body again, in the midst of this Dark Night. The Southern Cross is leaning on her side, about to set, and I know I’ll be gone before she is, and I’ll certainly be long-gone before the first light appears in the Eastern sky…

“And then…” a voice is talking to me from the Beyond. “And then,” the voice says…(and I swear I’m not on drugs, other than the fact that I literally just came out of a deep sleep, slipping from one dream realm into another)…the voice says “I felt like everything disappeared…”

The voice is coming from the DJ set. It’s the voice of a rather naive-sounding girl, probably late teens. She says “I felt like everything disappeared…I mean, it was like…there was nothing left of me! And then…and then…I realized…this is the place where I was, before I was born…”

There is a brief pause in the persistent beat. Her words echo in the air, “This is the place where I was…before I was born…”

Clearly, in this context, she’s probably talking about her first (or last) acid trip, but her words land on my taste-sensors like candy, at this hour, while I’m swaying my body in the celestial, star-studded sea breeze…

Ahhhh…yes…that place where I was, before I was born. Yes. The gifts that touch my heart in the seemlingly-most-unlikely-of-ways, like right now…a DJ remix at 3:42 AM that I would not have heard, had I not lost my earplug in the middle of the night, and now…

Why was I writing you this story? I was writing it to remind both of us of the fantastic little miracles that show up when we least expect them…like when we listen to the beat and follow it, especially if the mind is saying “WTF? What time is it? Where are your clothes?”

There’s a deeper message, too. The deeper message is…

What does it mean to touch that ever-present, eternal Source of Oneness?

During this go-round on Earth, I’ve discovered some favorite ways to touch that special place of the ever-present, great Oneness. I’m still working on them myself, but I know from experience that they work, so it’s my pure pleasure to share them with you now, for what it’s worth to you. Here they are:

• Writhe in euphoric sexual glee with your lover. Allow yourself to forget all agendas. Forget your fucking name, for God’s sake. This means putting aside the agenda of needing to “get off,” and celebrate your arousal for the sake of extragalactic, out-of-this-world travel. Become an ecstatic voyageur. How? Sign up for a fucking session with me in Washington, DC this week, or ask the Universe to free you from the limitations of your mind and our porn-saturated gay sex culture, and show you every possible way to writhe and squirm in infinite ecstatic sexual bliss.

• Dance Often. If you can walk (or even if you can’t), you can dance. Have you ever been to a place where live music was being played, and you saw all the people sitting in their seats, bobbing their heads and swaying their bodies? It doesn’t even matter if your feet hurt or even if you’re bound to a wheelchair…you can activate that part of you inside that says “Fuck it! I’m going to dance!” If nothing else, find that part of you deep inside that wants to dance like nobody is watching and set them free, even if at first, you’re dancing and screaming like a banshee within the privacy of your own inner consciousness.

• SING! If you can talk, you can sing. Nobody has to hear it, but when you can sing like you don’t give a flying fuck anymore, that is when the shit will start to move in your consciousness. Trust me…I’m still working on this one, every day. For starters, find that part of you deep inside that is ready to sing, and even if you have to do it silently at first, let it sing!

• Get up in the middle of the night and follow the drumbeat, with confidence. This can take on many forms, from sitting up and mediating, to turning on your computer and writing a story, to putting on headphones and taking a dance break. Observe what you see, feel, and experience, with every step. Walk in the confidence and deep inner knowing that you have a guardian angel, who is showing you the way. Develop a relationship with that Angel and find a name for them.

I’m walking back to my house beyond the mangroves now. I don’t know how long I’ve been at the beach, out in the dark. It couldn’t have been long, but it might as well have been all night, or lifetimes. “I felt like I completely disappeared” the voice of the girl is saying. “And then, I started to realize, like ‘Oh My God! This is the place where I was, before I was born…’”

I’m hanging my stealthy black bikini briefs on the hat rack by the door, climbing the stairs to the loft in my thatched-roof cabana. Within minutes, I’m asleep again. I certainly haven’t lost much sleep this night. I must have only been out less than an hour. Even the first morning bird has not made herself known yet, as I drift into sleep…for another eternity, until I awake in the bright light of the morning sun.

Ahhh…Thank You! Blessed Be.

It’s my annual trip to Mexico, but to get here, I must have spent a series of no less than umpteen days in intimate company, each and every day, and now that the most recent string of days in the most intimate company is over, I feel both alone and excited at the same time…

The 4-day, 3-night intimate Tantric-erotic immersion my 4 colleagues and I worked on for a whole year is now complete. All of the men have gone home…and here I am, alone. Alone in an undulating sea of men on vacation who crave what I have, yet who also abhor the…alone.

What are we going to do about this? For me, there is nothing to do, other than share the depths of my heart and soul. Now that my heart is open, there is no end to the wealth of home, connection, and heart. Amen, Gay-Men, and Bless-it-be.

And still…

From St. Louis to my hometown of Asheville, NC to the far ends of the Earth, men sit alone this morning, and I wonder…how are they doing? How have their lives been changed by the rare and precious gift of letting our hearts, bodies, and souls melt into a warm sea of connection…the kind of intimacy and connection we all crave and deserve? And for of those men who are alone, surrounded by other men, alone, how can we make this kind of connection more readily available, consistently?

Each morning for the past 4 mornings, I awoke in a house full of naked men, with one of them in bed by my side. The one by my side changed every single day, since we rotated beds each night. I had not experienced anything like it since my very first Tantra retreat in a log cabin in the Sandhill Region of North Carolina 20 years ago, when my teacher paired me randomly with a different man, 3 times per day (and all night long), to explore the art of intimacy. Sometimes, I remember wondering how I would ever make it through. I so valued my own space…my own company, yet at the same time, I was also quite fed up with me, myself, and I…

So there I was, 20 years ago, sick of being alone, yet wondering how I would survive yet another bed-pairing, with yet another hungry man. I was willing to sacrifice my few hours of sleep in order to seize every opportunity to learn whatever it was I had come there to learn, and yet I had stretched myself beyond any capacity I had ever known, to open my heart to yet another man, and now…

It’s 20 years later, and here we are doing it again, in Mexico. This time, I’m called “teacher,” and at the same time, alas, I am so very much the student, yet again.

Today is February 13th. I left my comfy home and my partner in North Carolina 14 days ago, bound for St. Louis, where I writhed in bed all day for 4 solid days with men…1-on-1, in pairs, and even in groups. A kind man offered his basement apartment for the sex-capade marathon, which--I kid you not--paused only at night, for a dream-filled 9 hours, before resuming again. Each morning, I took walks in the frigid, snow-covered landscape for a few minutes before the first hungry man arrived, savoring the fresh, cold, oxygen-laden air before returning yet again to my “cave” lit with candles, with one steady stream of sunlight lighting the undulating, intertwined, naked bodies.

All day, every day, I held excited fuckin’ men in my arms while diving deep, deep down into the core of our naked oneness, and then…

Suddenly, I’m in Oaxaca…a city cradled in mountains and steeped in the sweet scent of Earth and ancient ancestral potency, along with the piercing smell of exhaust fumes, and there, amidst the nonstop roar of urban humanity, I filmed my first erotic video since last year, with the same man, again…

Augusto had been such a magnificent lover that after filming last February, we decided to have a 2nd rendezvous when I returned last April, “just for fun”. But that 2nd rendezvous, off-camera, was SO fun that our parting words were, “Fuck man, we have to film this…”

Film what? What was different off-camera? We weren’t sure. It felt like when we didn’t have the camera there, all that was left was 2 men in a room, lustfully eating and drinking one another up, without a care in the world. We hadn’t even fucked (or cum), yet the orgasmic ecstasy we shared seemed endless. Could we film that?

We waited a year, and then last Thursday, 8 days ago, before the next wave of men arrived for the retreat on the coast with 4 other teachers, my lover and I got together in bed, again, for the first time in a whole fucking year…to get “down and dirty,” thoroughly bathing one another in lust and passion and sweat…

We wanted to fuck like nobody was watching, yet knowing everybody was watching. And we wanted to show how the hottest sex we could muster may have absolutely nothing to do with fucking, sucking, or cumming, but has everything to do with mind-blowing, neverending, head-to-fuckin’-toe orgasmic bliss.

But when we got naked, I had no choice. Even if my only agenda had been to let of the “standard suck-fuck-cum” agenda, I absolutely had to fuck the hot fucker with the fullness of my excited fucking balls. I fucked him until my nuts ached, pleasantly. We got some super-hot footage…but it wasn’t what we had thought.

I’m a different man than I was when I met Augusto a year ago, and hey--let’s face it--I’m a different man now than I was when I got together with Augusto last week. More than anything, what I truly crave NOW is the kind of sexual communion that catapults me beyond my ego and my mind, and connects me with something much greater. At a fundamental level, whether we know it or not, I actually think that’s probably what most of us crave--the kind of sex that’s so wonderful that we lose our mind and forget our fucking name for a time. Yes, we surrender into what feels like free-fall, knowing that gravity itself becomes our fuel for flight, and that we no longer have to “do” anything, other than surrender into the euphoric natural momentum of our own free-fall…

I wanted to do that with Augusto. I wanted to show you what free-fall looks like, but alas…how can I film an ecstatic sex experiment without changing the experiment? I mean, it was phenomenal, having my apprentice there in the room with us to film it, but…

It was NOT 2 men alone in a room anymore. Instead, it was something else…

And hey, there’s nothing wrong with “something else”. Old ladies used to pinch my cheek when I was a little boy and say, “You’re sum’um else, you know it?” Yes, I can be “sum’um else,” and still…I wanted you to know. I wanted you to know what free-fall with my lover looks like, when all of those perceived agendas of “fuck, suck, cum” vanish, and in their place, we gain tremendous momentum, flying through the stars at the speed of light, effortlessly entering the realm of flight by the power of gravity alone…with nothing left to do, other than writhe in cathartic sexual bliss with our whole bodies…where “orgasm” is a never-ending state of being, not a quick squirt at the end…

In any case, I’ve decided to keep my OnlyFans, and I just started posting clips from my encounters with Augusto, as well as creative clips I’ve been “secretly” working on on planes and while standing in the line at the bank for the past 3 years. My OnlyFans has literally been free for years. It might still be free by the time you read this, and then…I’m going to start receiving a nominal donation of something like $5 per month from each subscriber, and I’m going to start posting exactly what I most want to post, sharing exactly what fuels my heart and soul, as well as the hearts, minds, and imaginations of every single one who subscribes. Those who subscribe are going to fucking LOVE the authenticity of my OnlyFans, and those who do not will find what they want among the other millions of men who cater to their desires.

And then there was what happened next…what I set out to write you when I started this letter.

13 men arrived from all over North America, converging in one 7-bedroom house overlooking the Pacific Ocean, for 4 days, concluding yesterday. 5 masterful sorcerers of sex and intimacy, 2 assistants, and 6 participants joined together to host what very well must have been the world’s first Tantric-erotic immersive residential retreat where the number of participants nearly matched number of facilitators.

Needless to say, it was a very intimate affair, and based on all accounts from all sources, we pulled it off really well! Lives were changed profoundly, not only for the ones of us who were there, but for all of those we know, as well as those we don’t. There is not much more to say after an experience like that, other than “Wow!” There is never a guarantee that anything like this will ever happen again. In fact, there is a 100% guarantee that nothing exactly like this will ever happen again, just as this moment itself will never happen again, but there is one thing I can guarantee…

The way that gay, bi, and queer men are enjoying one another is changing in a big way, everywhere, all over the world, right now. More and more men have been touched by sacred intimate experiences like the ones my colleagues and I just facilitated, as well as the work of sacred intimates worldwide.

I will be using this newsletter/blog to announce events everywhere which I feel might bring a renewed health, vitality, and inspiration to other people’s lives. One message I got during the retreat of the past few days was that words have a lot of power, so it’s my heart’s intent to continue to share my words with you in written, audio-visual, and musical form.

For now, here are a few dates and places to take note of, in hopes we may meet up soon:

• Feb. 13-22, I’ll be in Zipolite, Oaxaca, Mexico and vicinity, offering 1-on-1 sacred intimacy sessions at my humble thatched-roof cabana near the center of town, as well as aquatic sessions in a quiet cove in nearby San Agustinillo and Puerto Angel. Go here to book a 1-on-1 or couples’ sacred intimate session with me, or go here to send me a note about meeting up in the warm Pacific Ocean for aquatic rebirth.

• February 24-26, I intend to be in Mexico City, so just in case you find yourself there, visit this page to set up a time for a 1-on-1 session at my place or yours during my short time there.

• Washington, DC Area Feb. 27-Mar. 6. I’ll be setting up another “den” of ecstatic, soulful, sexual and erotic connection with men at a beautiful private residence in Silver Spring, MD, just outside the northern periphery of the District of Columbia. I’ll have abundant time for 1 on 1 sessions, as well as 2 groups of up to 9 men on March 1 & 3 for the Acoustic-Erotic Satsang. Follow the directions on this page to book a session with me there and set up a free pre-session phone call, or go here to sign up for one of my groups on Sunday afternoon, March 1 or Tuesday evening, March 3 and automatically receive a 20% discount off of a 1-on-1 session.

• Asheville, NC March 9 and throughout the year. I’ll be traveling periodically this year, but my home base in the Southern Appalachians is by far one of my favorite places to offer transformational erotic work. I’ve set up a year-round den there in my home with my partner, and absolutely love to take men into the mountains for outdoor sessions in summer. Please use this link to learn how to book a session or series of sessions on your trip to Asheville, or how to let me help you create your own personalized retreat in our beautiful mountains, any season of the year!

See you soon!

Brad

Something is changing now…

Something is significantly different…

“Intimacy,” for most of us, used to equate to “privacy”. Now, what I’m re-introducing to gay sex culture is some of the deepest intimacy known to human beings, in the context of community and tribe, alone…together...

It’s a level of primordial innocence and intimacy which once helped us thrive as a tribe of men who love men. It’s intimacy in its deepest form, which means allowing oneself to go as deep as we dare into our heart, our emotions, and our desires, all in the presence of other men. The thrill and the terror of being witnessed, even by a few others, may still be there. We were taught at an early age that this must be done in secret, and with good reason: sexual intimacy is powerful.

Now, I’m inviting more men to shed our armor and rest in the soft, nurturing nest that I’m helping us build together. The vision is for these circles to begin, here and now, and for them to propagate communities all over the world.

There will be at least 7 intimate men’s circles between now and early March. 4 are being held here, in my hometown of Asheville, NC, USA every Monday evening in January. (We held the first one night before last, which was nothing short of mind-blowing). I’m also traveling to offer these small, intimate circles of 7 to 9 men in St. Louis, Missouri on Sunday afternoon and Tuesday evening, February 1 & 3…and then again March 1 & 3 near the northern periphery of Washington, DC. If I can find a good location in an adaptable vacation rental, studio, or private home, I’m also ready to offer this circle in Mexico City on February 25.

If you’re feeling called to one of these intimate group sessions, please take a moment to follow this link and answer a few questions about what’s calling you to this intimate circle of men. If you don’t live in North Carolina, St. Louis, Mexico, or the DC area, and you would like to see one of these circles come to your area, please email me directly by hitting “reply” to this email.

Sign up for a Men's Sacred Erotic Circle

Whether you know it or not, I love receiving emails or comments from curious men. Your curiosity fuels this blog, as well as my intimate practice, so I relish the opportunity to create more intimacy, closeness, and yes…sexual fun in this world.

See you soon in the intimate spaces we create together!

Brad Amberheartf

P.S. Scroll down for a little “secret”.

And Oh, by the Way…

I’ve teamed up with 4 other accomplished male Tantricas to offer an immersive intimate erotic 3-day retreat in Zipolite, Oaxaca Mexico Feb. 9-12 with 5 practitioners and up to 9 participants! The retreat is almost full, but we still have TWO SPOTS OPEN! Check out our video to get to know us:

Sometimes, there’s just an undeniable urge to write to you and simply watch what comes out. I mean…truthfully, I’ve been living a fuckin’ incredible life, especially as of late, and at least some part of me believes you just might want to know about it…

I mean…like the other night--the longest night of the whole year--I found myself in a large round house in the middle of the forest, light years away from the nearest town, wearing only my cute skimpy blue underwear, with a woman sitting in my lap in yab-yum position, laughing at the top of our fucking lungs together until our laugher cascaded into never-ending orgasms. My whole life—present, past, and future—flashed before my eyes…

Then there was the next morning, when I found myself sitting in a circle of six kindred souls around a fire while the sun rose over the gentle folds of mountains, chanting an ancient mantra in Sanskrit which gives us “victory over death”…

And then there was the next morning after that, when I found myself visiting the graves of my friends, offering tobacco to the Earth in which they’re buried, remembering their smiles and their magic. They both died young, both within the last couple of months, within 10 years after their small child died in a tragic accident. I had been at their wedding…then at the burial of their child. Now, mother, father, and child are here, in the Earth, in a village of people who celebrated their lives. The community altar to hearth and fire is literally built right on top of the grave of my friend, a priestess who helped me honor my ancestors every November 1.

Yes, it’s more than can possibly be contained in a short post, so my posts tend to be longer. Today, I don’t think I can tell you the whole story of laughter, orgasmic bliss, lives lost, and lives lived. I can only hint at the glimmer of life which gleams from fires, the rising sun, the crescent moon…even from graves.

I would love to say more. For now, what I’ve shared with you are the highlights from the 2 nights and 2 days I devoted to honoring the Solstice, at a Queer Tantra Monastery deep within a forest ecovillage, far outside my city.

What I can share in one post—and what cannot be shared—is testimony to the volume at which life is singing right now, and I would love to inquire of you…What are you ready to know? I’m opening this post to all comments, and I’m about to change the settings of my subscriber chat so that anyone who is reading my posts can communicate with me…

Sometimes, I just want to write to you like this every day because that seems like the only way I can possibly keep pace with the rapid unfolding of this life’s path. I want to share it all with you. My God, it’s so fucking fascinating--the gifts this life is bringing--and my greatest prayer today is that you, too, are in awe of your life’s path, witnessing its unfolding with boldness, trepidation, and awe, all at the same time.

Aren’t we all on this journey, together?

I read this post by a young person the other day (their words and style seemed to signal that they were younger) called “I don’t want anyone to read this”. That’s a fascinating title, I thought. Of course, I read every word, as did the other 128 people…now 278 people.. who clicked on the “❤️” emoji. I had never seen anyone write the word “Ayahuasca” in the subheading of their post. Frankly, it’s a word I only speak out loud in a safe place, in the presence of people who are ready to hear it. I took a journey with Grandmother Aya in October and haven’t written a word about it until now (at least not publicly), even though I’ve written pages and pages privately, saving them for people who want to know what happened. I keep wondering when (or if) the time will be right to share what Grandmother revealed to me, but in the meantime, when I see “Aya” front and center, I have to read it…and so do lots of others.

It was almost like this young man was just writing a stream of consciousness, boldly acknowledging that sometimes, he just wanted to write what was truly present, without any concern over how it landed or whether people actually read it. “I want to write like I did before I had a following,” he said. I was inspired by his boldness, as were the 278 others who responded. It was so raw and unfiltered. I guess that’s probably what we all want a bit more of…bold humanness, raw and unfiltered.

My post last week, “Longest-Night Special Edition: What do you REALLY fear?” was about as raw and unfiltered as it gets. I spent 8 days in a remote cabin by myself, where I faced my deepest fears, revealing my journey to the world in handwritten form, day after day, as it unfolded. In the end, I was left feeling like maybe nobody read them. I mean…it was a lot! I broke up the reams of pages with photos and even a video of me singing a song in Russian. I wondered if I started the entry with “I hope nobody reads this,” it might have been more likely to be seen. I suppose it’s no big tragedy, to escape revealing my deepest secrets to everyone, but alas…my hope is that my creative weaving together of words, images, songs, and videos last week will touch someone, somewhere.

By the way, Summer Minerva, trans-queer performer and inspirer (also my lover of many years) interviewed me yesterday for their podcast. An hour was barely long enough to contain the profound treasures we unearthed. We talked about sexual magic and healing, among many other things. I’m excited to see that post surface in the coming week…

I’m also excited about what arose within me during my pre-solstice solitude. While facing some of my deepest shadow spaces, I also witnessed a “bubbling-up” of the most beautiful new vision! I’m going to offer Sacred Intimacy in small circles of 5 to 7 men this coming year, so that what once was a 1-on-1 session behind closed doors is now a small-group exploration with focus. It’s my joy to announce The Acoustic-Erotic Satsang--my offering of heart, body, and voice this winter in 3 or more cities around the US and possibly Mexico.

I’m making this offering in small circles of 5 to 7 men, beginning in my home in Asheville, NC for 4 Monday evenings in January, as well as St. Louis, MO on Feb. 1 and Washington, DC area March 1 at private residences. You can check this link (The Acoustic-Erotic Satsang) for updates as I add new locations, such as Zipolite, Mexico, where I’ll be residing for a couple of weeks in February, offering Underwater Aquatic Rebirth sessions and 1-on-1 personalized Tantric-erotic sessions & retreats, and potentially at least 1 Acoustic-Erotic Satsang.

There’s a short contact at that Aquatic Rebirth link, which I sincerely hope that you’ll use, whether it’s to inquire about journeying with me into the warm waters of the Pacific Ocean, coming to come visit the southern Appalachian mountains for a winter retreat in January, or whether it’s to attend one of my Acoustic-Erotic Satsangs in St. Louis, Washington, DC, or Mexico.

I’m also happy to receive invitations to bring my individual and group session play to your town, so please know that the possibilities are as open as your mind and heart allow.

So thank you for coming to share in community and receive! Much movement and new growth are afoot in this time of increasing light. May you hearts, homes, and lives feel warmed in the glow of new life.

Affectionately,

Brad

I’ve almost narrowed it down to one specific week—Dec. 12-19—when, each year, my heart kind-of “bottoms out” and I feel like I touch some of the greatest depths of sadness, disenchantment, and hopelessness.  Fortunately, I've come to expect it, yet—even when I’m paying close attention (or at least when I’m almost sure I’m paying close attention), suddenly, it’s OVER, and I realize what I’ve missed.

“Next year, I’ll be ready to ‘catch it.’” I say to myself.

So 51 weeks go by…
Life Twists and turns...up, down, and around.
There are high points and low points.
Through winter, spring, summer, and fall
We churn, tumble, and fly
Embracing all of it
Learning to surf the waves
Such that even what we once called “suffering”
Becomes the Welcomed Guest...

For when we let go
And dive deep
Into those places we’ve most feared,
SUDDENLY
We are HOME
And  IN LOVE
With the places we’ve feared
Until…we await…their return…

A Welcomed Guest, yes...
The catalyst for our innate, latent joy
The opportunity to exercise our superpower,
Which is alchemical transformation
Of our fears, our struggles
Into ease, relief…even ecstatic oneness,
Until…

It’s December 12th.  
Charles brought me up day before yesterday to his cabin, where I lived with him for 5 months in 1999, when I was 26, and left me here.  That’s the way I wanted it.  I’m alone now, and I wanted this…

It’s so quiet.  I can literally  only hear the very quiet hiss-sizzle of the logs in the wood stove, and truly, sitting here and writing by hand in the deep silence is a BIG gift from God…

My body is now attuned to wake up at the first light.  I almost wait for it, opening my eyes deep in the night, trying to discern if the light I see is the first light of day or the light of the waning moon…or maybe even the lights of Boulder, over 20 miles away as the crow flies, casting a dome of light which—when it’s cloudy—bounces off of the clouds, right down through the skylight and into the loft of this cabin, right down onto my eyelids, open and  wondering when this extremely long night might give way to the first signs of dawn, when no birds are to be heard singing above the howling wind.

I love it.  I love the longer nights of the year and the half-moon high in the sky just before dawn, when I pour myself a hot oat-milk latte in a 100-year-old cabin where—the first thing to do when my feet hit the floor coming down off the ladder from the sleeping loft—is to crumple some newspaper and be grateful for the kindling Charles left…grateful that there’s little chance of me getting too caught up in my cluttered mind today.

When in doubt, chop wood and carry water.

Yes, thank God!

The warm fire is roaring now…and yet…

My heart aches
Finally, I’m crying, and I’m grateful to be crying
These last days have been trying…
I mean…
As is so often the case, 
I’m surrounded by people I love,
yet…

What is this heartache?
Who are you, heartache?
Heartache tells a story.
It goes something like:

(revert to handwritten pages)

What do you REALLY fear? I want for what I learned to help others in their journey. So I’ve reserved the rest of this letter for those who are sincerely curious how some of my deepest fears--the seemingly-darkest of places--catapulted me through a portal into something brand-spanking new and utterly beautiful.

My utmost wish is that the work I did here in this cabin in isolation will help open doorways for many others who might be feeling angry, lost, frustrated, or hopeless…and so it shall…

I want for all of the beauty that’s come through me to be available to everyone who seeks the truth, and I appreciate loyal subscribers who deeply value my work. I’m going to include a very precious story that I recorded in audio here at the cabin, with the persistent background “music” of the wind. Someday, perhaps soon, or possibly later, I’ll probably release at least some portion of this 15-minute recorded audio as a podcast, but for now, it’s here to be shared as a “thank you” for the handful of people who have supported my Substack financially as paid subscribers over the past year. Thank you!

Before moving on with revealing my deepest fears and the gifts I found by facing them, I also want to include an acoustic song video I recorded today with my guitar at the cabin, in the Russian language. It’s a rather haunting song which is relevant to the topic at hand (see description below the video). I LOVE sharing my music! Sometime soon (or later), I would like to create a whole post about this Soviet-era bard song alone, but today, I simply share it with gratitude for those who have supported my podcast this past year, and as encouragement to others to join the more intimate community I’m creating around this podcast (click below to enter the “inner circle” of my work).

“Ya Yedu za Tumanom” means “I go for the fog,” in Russian. This song, by famous Russian bard Yuri Kukin (1964) asks the question of why people go to be alone in the forest. Some are running away. Others go in the mountains, heavy with sadness and unpaid debts to be purged. “But I,” says the poet, “I go to explore my dreams, to smell the forest…and for the fog.”

Thanks for stepping into the “Inner Circle” of my Substack! Here’s the special audio I recorded today, which had a surprise ending.

It brings me a lot of pleasure to share my story with you in my own voice…and, halfway through, to let the story take a new direction. Below the audio, you’ll find my most vulnerable handwritten reveleations, which gave way to today’s post of unprecedented volume and passion in multiple media.

Thank you for your loyalty! I’m excited to keep share the depths of my heart. And no, my posts won’t always be this long. What I’ve revealed here could have been a whole series, but I couldn’t wait to share it all now. So until next time…here’s a lifetime’s worth of work and play!

Loving You,

Brad

The Acoustic Erotic Satsang

This was not a new lover. This was not someone I just met for the sake of the pure joy of sex. No, this was a friend long time known…a friend with whom I have walked many segments of my life’s path in the past 12 years. We’ve been lovers. We’ve been neighbors. We’ve been friends in a community of wizards and shamans. We both know he’s not exactly what I’m looking for, and neither am I exactly what he is looking for, but today, here, Feb. 1, at the midpoint between the winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, we were standing in for every lover we’ve ever known and ever will know.

We’d made an agreement. We’d given ourselves permission to fully allow ourselves to make sweet love together, to benefit ourselves, our loved ones, and this world.

“Don’t be afraid that I’m going to latch onto you, to try to possess you, to try to be your boyfriend,” I said. “The invitation is to allow each other to let down our guards and be fully sexually present for each other…to forget about our fears, to forget about what it might “look” like, and see what can happen if we literally let ourselves BE the lovers we are seeking, who are seeking us.”

And now, they’re here, those lovers we’ve invited. They’re here, in our bodies, in our hard erections, and in our excited faces, in the light of the fire we built in the fireplace in the name of health, vitality, and our own fucking sexual freedom and bliss. Yes, thank you God, Thank You!

“I’m your lover,” says my friend. “You deserve exciting, fun, sexually awake lovers like this.”

“I’m your lover,” I say to him. “You deserve exciting, fun, sexually awake lovers like this.”

Spell complete.

***

It had been a long dry spell for both of us in terms of sex…a long winter, with a lot of time spent alone. Tonight, our “spell” was to attract the lovers we desire and deserve. Over and over, as we made love that night by the fire in the remote mountain cabin where I lived, we repeated the mantra we had co-crafted together:

Sexy, Exciting, FUN Men who are really into me are finding their way to me! When we encounter each other, we actually raise one another’s frequency and vibration.

By the next morning, we knew that everything we had ever wished for had already come true. We felt it with all of our hearts, bodies, and minds.

Over the coming months, we would be showered with a series of absolutely phenomenal erotic and sexual encounters with highly compatible lovers. And…we would come to recognize that all of the playful, fun work we had done in our ecstatic ritual that night had been done not only for us, but every gay man on Earth who has ever desired to create a new Reality, where we are fully met by our lovers.

The next morning, we got out my voice recorder at the breakfast table and recorded everything we remembered seeing and feeling the night before. The result is this series of posts devoted to Sacred Intimate Sex Secrets. I’ve already released a couple of them over the course of the past year, under the title “Sex Secrets for the Next Generation of Gay Lovers,” but now I know it’s time to share all of them, one by one, beginning right now.

Sacred Intimate Sex Secret #1: We Do This for Everyone and Everyone Benefits.

We are not alone. There are men all over the world right now, doing what we’re doing. Everything has shifted. Men everywhere are enjoying ecstatic, joyous sex. They’re experimenting with standing in as each other’s intimate partners, being sacred intimates for each other, mirroring the kinds of lovers that we want to be with, helping us attract the kinds of lovers and partnerships that we want…

Men everywhere are making a space—in the midst of our sacred ecstatic hot fun lovemaking—to hold people, situations, and places in our awareness, who benefit from being in this energy field.

Our sex is much bigger than us and is amplified when we combine it with love for people beyond the room. As soon as we recognize this, we exponentially magnify the joy that we experience, as well as the overall pleasure and the FUN!

The secret…for the next generation of gay lovers…is that what we’re sharing is an energy field that benefits other people, places, and situations, and is imbued with love. This transformative sexual energy is so powerful that it actually transforms and integrates generations of trauma, instantaneously.

We don’t have to make a video about it anymore.

We don’t have to make sure people get it.

We just need to get it,

and then,

all around us,

everywhere we go,

we start seeing

the other men who are doing this.

Yeah!

We mutually attract like-minded men.

***

Stay Tuned for Sex Magic Secrets Part II: The Merging of Sacred and Taboo.

To put it mildly, we became avid lovers. The first 3 years, we only got together, on average, once every 4 to 6 weeks, always for the express purpose of avidly fucking, all over my house, and spreading our bliss all over every horizontal and vertical surface. Finally, after 3 years, I went to visit him at his house across town, and we went on our first date to a deserted island off the coast of North Carolina.

One day, I decided to ask him, “Hey, Lover…what do you really want?”

He thought about it for awhile, maybe even for a day or a week or two, and when he got back to me, the answer he gave me rang with resounding truth. He looked into my eyes and said, “I’m ready to have the courage to fully live my life”.

The story of what unfolded from that point is more than I can recapitulate here. It may be worth writing a whole series of posts about the power I’ve discovered in sharing my life’s dreams with my lovers in bed, and…I think I’m going to do just that!

I want to begin by telling you what happened when I learned to look directly in my lover’s eyes, while engaged in whole-body cathartic erotic pleasure, and told him, “Lover, you fucking deserve to live the life of your dreams, and you already have all the courage you need to do it!”

Which is why you can look for a whole series of stories from me in the coming days, weeks, and months, as invitations to join me in-person and online for community experiments revolving around the reality and the myth of sexual magic .

Winter has set in, and I’ve decided to journey this very week to Santa Fe, New Mexico, followed by an adventurous foray deep into the mountains of Colorado, where my express intent is to hole up in a far-away cabin to engage in my favorite practices of writing, meditating, moving my body, and recording stories and songs for a solid 8 days or more while the snow piles up and the winds howl hurricane force. All along the way, I’ll be using this Substack as a vehicle to share my life with you, and invite more loving, kind, and curious men into conscious Tantric-erotic experiments with me.

Here are a few upcoming opportunities to join me, with more to be announced over the coming weeks:

1-on-1 Sexual Magic & Transformational Erotic Excitement in Santa Fe Dec. 3, 4, & 5

I’ll be cozy and warm in a cute, private adobe casita near the heart of town, offering sessions from Wednesday afternoon, Dec. 3 until the morning of Dec. 5. Click Here to view details on my website and get booked for a 2 to 3 hour personalized session.

Advanced Immersive Tantra Retreat with 5 Master Teachers in Zipolite, Oaxaca Feb. 9-12

Join 5 of the world’s leading practitioners of Tantric eroticism for men who love men for 3 nights of experiential forays deep into the mystical and magical realms of male-to-male sexuality in a large, comfortable home with ocean views! Make a week of it and stay over and enjoy Mexico’s international naked gay playground for awhile! This is a small retreat limited to men with some experience in Tantra or transformational eroticism. Click here to read more, watch our short introductory video, and send us your application to attend.

1-on-1 Personalized Tantra & Sacred Intimacy Retreats in S. Colorado and N. Carolina Mountains in December & January

Join me at my favorite remote hideaways high in the mountains of Colorado Dec. 7-9 or Dec. 16-18 or come see me for a deep dive in my favorite, life-long home of southern Appalachia, where I’ll be from Christmas through January. Click Here to view my personalized sessions and 1-on-1 retreat options and follow prompts to start planning your adventure.

Men’s Erotic Tantra Sessions 1-on-1 and in a Group of 7 in St. Louis Jan. 29-Feb. 3!

I’m deliciously anticipating offering a day-long men’s Tantric-erotic circle in St. Louis, MO, USA on Saturday, Jan. 31, along with 1-on-1 sessions at a private apartment in Central West End. This visit is just about to be announced on my website, so look for updates here and in upcoming Substack posts, along with new stories from my life’s experience in sexual magic, Tantra, and transformational homoeroticism.

Aquatic Rebirthing in the Pacific Ocean, Coastal Oaxaca Feb. 2-28

Join me in Mexico’s international gay playground, Zipolite, for a 1-on-1 session at my thatched roof cabana, or consider a multiple-day 1-on-1 guided immersion at your favorite choice of lodging in the heart of it all, or in a quieter nearby beach enclave. I’m also very excited to start offering one of my favorite magical healing arts: Aquatic Rebirth in the warm waters of the Pacific Ocean! Here’s a video I made about my favorite healing art, which I’ll be offering to all those interested in a tranquil bay of the Pacific Ocean 5 km from Zipolite the whole month of February. If you want to come on over, I’m happy to make referrals for a broad range of lodging options. Please respond to this email and let me know if you’re interested. I’ll be sharing more detailed info here in my Substack in December. Be sure to subscribe!

There is tremendous power in transgression. Some of us like it hot and nasty…others like it sweet and vanilla, but when—or where—do we ever get to see the Filthy Pig inside of all of us come out, step up to the fucking altar, and get married to the loving, kind, generous, thoughtful lover that we are?

We’re not just a “top” or a “bottom,” “kinky” or “vanilla”. Many men can testify, based on their life’s relationships, that opposites attract, but today just might be the day when we realize that those opposites live inside of each and every one of us, every single day.

Long ago, when I was about 25 years old, I began studying with a Tantra teacher who had brought a lineage of Tantra from the Himalayas to America. One of the many things he taught me was to find the marriage of opposites in myself. I was a young man who had been raised Southern Baptist, so when I learned that there actually was a spiritual tradition, still alive on Earth, which honored sex as sacred, I was immediately captivated, and wanted to know more…

Sex…

Sacred…

How could two words which seemed so disparate possibly fit inside the same box? Slowly, I began to learn that these “opposites” were a mere product of my perception, and that the best way to rediscover their happy coalescence was to get rid of “the box” entirely. Tantra led me along a pathway deep into the wilderness of my own self, ever-inpspiring me to blaze new trails into uncharted territory.

As men who love men, we are not only blazing a new trail for the sacred marriage of sex and soul, but we’re also unearthing a new reality of what it means to create new life, or even to give birth . Some of us have brought children into this world, while the majority of us have not. If we’re not leaving behind our genetic coding or the blood line of our fathers and grandfathers by way of procreation (or even if we are) the question remains: What are we birthing into this world, even as we witness death all around us, and even as our body dies?

For me, inspiring answers have come in the midst of my most ecstatic sexual pleasures. It’s no accident that the French refer to orgasm as “le petit mort” (the little death). When we’re in a heightened orgasmic state, all time seems to stop. Our incessant thoughts are replaced by calm, peace, and even a sense of flight. I’m fond of saying, “We don’t have to wait until we die to go to heaven. We journey there every time we have an orgasm…and we get to come back”.

Personally, each time I return to this Earth from that heavenly place of orgasmic ecstasy, I come back with a new insight about who I am and why I’m here. I take that insight forward into whatever I’m creating in this world, and allow my orgasmic oneness to fuel my life’s dreams. I’ve even learned to invite my lovers to state our life’s dreams in affirmative statements while we’re making love, so that we can each participate in impregnating the other with the new life we’re ready to see emerge in ourselves and on this Earth.

Yes, we’re talking about personal and global evolution, not only by way of SEX, but by way of man-on-man, dick-to-dick ecstatic sexual communion in every creative way we can muster. And that, my friends, includes kink.

It’s true that there are different strokes for different folks. Hot naked passionate sex by candlelight, without any kinky fetishes, may very well be the best pathway for some of us to reach heightened states of sexual bliss. But what I’m suggesting is that Tantric sex (or “high spiritual sex”) can take on many forms, and for those of us who are interested in using our sex as a tool for personal and collective healing, awakening, and transformation…we’re aiming to find every way we can to propel ourselves and our lovers into heightened states of toe-curling erotic bliss and mind-blowing sexual fun!

How do we touch that state? The best fucking way we can, that’s how! The state of erotic bliss and mind-blowing fun we’re talking about is one in which we feel connected with all of creation. It’s a state in which our busy mind takes a break…a state in which we feel love and connection with all of life. And within that state, we speak--out loud, in the presence of our lovers and all of creation--our affirmations for thriving, bountiful life on this Earth.

The day has arrived, when we’re contributing all of our being--from the depths of our mind-blowing, sexually-ecstatic, heart-and-soul-connected selves--to a greater understanding of who we are and how we can best contribute to the evolution of consciousness on this planet (and yeah, even beyond).

So what does all of this have to do with kinky fucking sex? Summon the energy in the best way you can. If you get head-to-toe hot by making sweet passionate love with your lover, do that! And if you get wildly excited by having a sweet, kinky fucker tie you to the fucking bed, taunt your dick with his belt, and tease you until you beg him to please let you cum, do that!

It no longer matters how we do it. What matters is that enter into our encounters with full awareness that we’re going to get as excited as we can fucking stand, spread that energy throughout our bodies, and stay present with that level of sexual excitement for as long as we dare. Then, in the midst of that excitement, we allow the insights and “downloads” to infiltrate our heightened state of awareness, while we speak (out loud) the most affirmative words we can find for our life’s thriving existence.

What do we say to our lover while we’re squirming in euphoric bliss and heightened excitement? The best way to know what to say is to ask them. Ask your lover, even before you plant your face right under his nuts…or before you tie the squirming fucker to the bed. Ask him. Say, “Hey, Lover…what are you inviting into your world right now, and what are you releasing in order to make room for it?” Words are extremely powerful, most especially when they’re released into the fertile soil that we’ve cultivated by way of whole-body erotic and sexual pleasure.

It’s important to be highly attentive to what we say to each other when we’re in heightened states of erotic pleasure, for when we’re in this state, we’re completely unguarded. It’s impossible to have an orgasm without letting down our guard and opening ourselves completely (even if for a fleeting moment) to the energies around us. This is why many men’s experience of sexual pleasure and whole-body orgasmic release is limited to the moment of ejaculation. Subconsciously, we know that we are opening ourselves up to our partner in the most vulnerable way. Within that moment of orgasmic release, we are most definitely not in control. The “-asm” in “orgasm” is kin to the word “spasm”. We cannot control ourselves when we’re “losing it” and letting our cum surge through those wonderful tubes, coming squirting out, to fertilize the world…

What happens afterwards is very telling. How many times have we seen men (including ourselves) jump up and put on our pants and zip up so quickly we nearly hurt ourselves, all because we know, deep down, that we have fully exposed our most vulnerable selves to the person we’re with, and now that we’ve done that, it’s time to get out of there…

So what can we do? By nature, the state of orgasmic ecstasy has the potential to fuel our thriving existence on Earth, and yet, we’re only to stay present with that orgasmic sensation for just a few fleeting moments, and then…it’s time to get back to work or do anything but stay present with this deep sense of exposure and heart vulnerability…

One thing we can do is to begin to recognize just how powerful our orgasm really is. We can dare to have conversations with our fuckbuddies, lovers, and partners alike about what we’re ready to invite into our lives, precisely at the moment when we’re ready to get hard and get rowdy. And finally…that “fleeting moment” of orgasmic bliss can expand far beyond the moment of ejaculation. Yes, we can learn to breathe, make some noise, move our bodies, look in one another’s eyes, massage our fuckbuddies from pelvis to heart while we’re having sex, and spread that hot sex energy up our of our nut-sac and throbbing dicks, into our hearts, our bodies, and even our minds. Yes, even our minds are fed by orgasmic bliss, when we allow them to be. Is it any wonder that human intelligence has been dulled so very much, after we’ve been subjected, for countless generations, to the belief that sex is “dirty” or “wrong”?

It’s time to reclaim our sex as a source of health, vitality, and new insight. In fact, I’ve devoted my life to that cause! I set out to write this blog entry to introduce the concept that even our kinkiest delights (or most especially our kinkiest delights😁) have the power to flood our bodies with vitality, and to serve as rocket-fuel to transport us into states in which we can gain clear insight about who we are and why we’re here.

I want to see more men recognize this immense power, and claim it for themselves. I’m spreading the word by way of this blog and by way of my body. Within the course of this coming month, I’m carrying my body to southern Colorado, Northern New Mexico, and the Tampa Bay area to “spread the gospel” by way of sharing ecstatic transformational erotic sessions with willing, curious, and awake men who are ready to take their sexual and erotic expression to the next level.

Click here to see the types of 1-on-1 sessions and personalized 1-on-1 Transformational Tantric-Erotic Retreats I’m offering in Colorado, New Mexico, and St. Petersburg, Florida in the coming month. When you click on this link, be sure to scroll down the page if you would like to explore options for spending a couple of days or three with me in the high desert, near natural hot springs with spectacular mountain vistas…or plan ahead to meet me in Ziplite, on the Oaxacan coast of Mexico in February.

“Sit down,” I said, quite unapologetically, pointing toward the straight-backed wooden chair I had intentionally placed in the bedroom before he arrived for his session.  He quickly obeyed, smiling and sitting  down on the hard wood in eager anticipation.  

"That's right...Sit down, Lover."   I said it again, adding that extra word, Lover.   The juxtaposition of assertiveness and tenderness literally make my dick jump.

We hadn’t discussed an overt BDSM session or dom-sub scene, but trust me, hours of writhing in a sexually ecstatic energy field with him had been enough for me to tune right in to what would absolutely excite the living fuck out of him.  We had already soaked the sheets of my downstairs futon in our sweat, and now it was time for Phase II, upstairs.

He liked it.  Yeah, he liked being told what to do by a dirty fucker...and most especially by a dirty Lover like me.

“I really love it when you call me ‘Lover, ” he said, squirming, already placing his hands behind the chair, teasing me.  The fucker knew he would make my dick throb, just by insinuating that he was helplessly bound...his sweaty naked body sliding on the hard wood...hands behind his back…a helpless, squirming, anticipating, excited motherfucker.

“Yeah, I know you love it,” I said.  “And I’m going to keep saying these things to you that excite the fucking shit out of you, too.”

Our hungry lips locked, as I slid my hard cock right down his sweaty front-side, my very hot, sweaty nuts landing right on top of his well-lubricated, fat tool.

During our extended intake interview by phone, he had expressed quite a bit of self-consciousness over his cock size, and his perceived inability to get hard and stay hard.  He had endured radiation treatment and surgery in his rectum, to remove malignant masses a couple of years back, and ever since then, his sense of sexual vitality and expression had been quite diminished.  But when I dug a bit deeper to ask him about his sexual past, the truth became known that—even before the invasive medical procedures in his sexual energy center—ecstatic sexual pleasure evidently had not been a part of his reality.  

I was left guessing what could have possibly kept a healthy, vibrant adult male from connecting with his ecstatic sexual nature for most of his life—most especially the man I had just been writhing and squirming with in pure euphoric fuck joy for hours on end—but having done this work for 2 decades, trust me…this situation is common, and I’m ready to use my body, heart, soul and words as instruments of divine change. 

“You’ve got a fucking beautiful, plump fucking penis,” I said to him,  dialing in some magic words of affirmation, while devilishly rubbing my hot balls and taint all over his excited cock, tickling the most sensitive parts of his man-meat.  I wrapped my legs around him, bracing my feet on the two cross-braces on the sides of the wooden chair, and brought my torso and my face right up onto him, eagerly eating his luscious lips, then drinking his saliva and saying, “Give me your tongue.  I want to suck on it.”

Lavishly and mischievously, I was continuing to play the wild, bold card of Daddy-in-charge, with full confidence that he was going to fucking love it.  Naturally, I was right.  I fully took his tongue, drinking it into my mouth, savoring the passionate moans and groans of two men indulging in the absolutely marvelous delicacy of pure fucking GOOD DICK.

With my hot taint and balls still working his dick over, I brought myself in for a tight squeeze of his whole torso, bringing him tight up against me while I sucked on his eagerly-submitted tongue.  I heard him groan, not from discomfort, but from the deep satisfaction he got from our passionate kiss, with our sweat-drenched, hard-on bodies pressed firmly up against each other.

His hands were around my back, slipping down to fall around my pelvis and my butt.  I knew where the hot devil was headed…so before he could get there, I spit on my fingers and lubed up my hole.

“Ahhh…yes…assfucker’s wet dream!” I said to him, using some of my own magic "trigger words" to cause our mutual excitement to surge up yet another notch.  (Remember, as Sex Magicians, we often use “trigger words” to send our excitement up a notch and summon more sexual energy to fuel our dreams and visions). 

His finger could just reach my butthole enough to tickle me and drive me fucking nuts in a good way, but I wanted more.  Deliberately, with my mischievous eyes locked on his, I leaned back, sliding my ass off his lap, and onto my chair, which I had strategically placed right up against his.  My sacrum was pressed hard against the wood, and I didn’t care…at all.  In fact, the kinky fucker in me started to get off on just how hard and uncomfortable the wood surface was for my sacrum, and I just surrendered into it, begging him, “Put your middle finger up my ass, fucker”.

He wasted no time.  Within seconds, he had a writhing, pig-squealing-excited fucker right on the end of his middle finger.  I slid forward and down as much as I could, so that I was literally riding the space where our two chairs met, my sacrum still dancing on the hard wood, while he worked my sensitive, pulsing prostate into states of pure fucking oblivion. 

I found myself with my arms over my head, my balls up against his, my legs draped over his, holding onto the back of my chair, looking up at him, deep into his eyes, just about to fucking lose my cum, saying over and over, “You’ve got it now, you sexy fucker.  You know how to fuck like a fucking man.  Does it have anything to do with how hard your fucking dick is?”

“Not necessarily,” he said.

“Wrong answer!” I said, squirming with his finger right on my wild-spot.  Let me ask you again.  “You know how to fuck like a fucking man.  Does it have anything to do with how hard your fucking dick is?”

“No!” he said, confidently this time, his smile spreading across his whole face, ear to ear, then washing all the way down his beautiful sweaty torso like warm piss.  Ahhhh…yesss…what a relief, to watch a man be freed, at last, from decades of bondage which had trapped him in that tired old paradigm of “get hard, stay hard, fuck me, and cum”.

Free at Last!
Free at Last!
Great God Almighty!
I’m Free at Last!

Free to fuck like a wild man
Free to enjoy the living fuck out of 
My sweat-drenched, heart-pounding, excited body!
Fuck yes!

Thank you, God Almighty!
I'm Free at Last!

“Look at us!” I said to him, “Have you ever seen this in porn?”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, still wearing such a fabulous fuck face.

“You know better now,” I said to him, “And I’m telling you so that my words will infuse every fiber of you, while you’re as excited as you can fucking stand.  Every fiber of you is being infused with the Truth, that you are a sexy fucker who now knows what really good fucking is, and who knows how to do it.

“Hey, next question…Does it matter if anybody cums?”

“No!” He answered, promptly.

“Good answer,” I said, then promptly stood up, got up on the chair, and put my big fucking pole right in his face for him to lick, until I’d had all I could stand and just had to fuck his fucking face for awhile.  From there, I couldn’t resist sliding my cock down his sweaty torso again, sitting in his lap, then turning around to face the other way this time, with the muscles of my sweat-slickened back right against his man meat.  I found myself sliding my ass forward across the small gap between the two chairs, hanging both of my legs over the back of the other chair and resting my head in his lap.  Now, in the position described, I was able to look up at his sexy fucking excited face, while he fucked me with his finger, pulling my whole body toward him on the oil-slick surface of the chair, simultaneously stroking my cock right up to the brink of climax, until I had to say, 

“Hey, can you pause there for a minute, Lover, and take a deep breath with me?”

We’re pulsing, throbbing, breathing deeply…the next door neighbor’s booming ranchero music has stopped, and a deep stillness has set in.  And from that place of stillness, with his finger still up my butthole and his other hand still resting on my excited cock, I say, “So, does this look like anything you’ve ever seen in porn?”

“No,” he says.

“Which do you like better?” I ask him.

We both smile.  

The radiance on our relaxed faces is so sweet, I’m beginning to wonder how or where or if this session could possibly ever end.  Time has stopped.  Even the loud music outside has stopped.  Our fuck noise has stopped.  The only thing still going is our breath, and our heartbeats…steady…and strong…

And we still hadn’t made it to my bed…

I have a future now.
I can write about this shit all day…
when I’m not busy experiencing it again, that is!

Yes, I can write about this shit all day
While my fucking balls and taint tremor 
In the pure fucking joy 
That we now know, Lover.

I can write about it all day,
While I feel my fucking dick rise right up off of this hard wooden chair,
Throbbing in the air
At the mere body memory
Of the euphoric fuck-bounty that we now know, Lover.

YESSS, Lover!
Thank GOD we’ve cum home, Lover.
Home, where the heart is
And where my heart, cock, body and blissful tingling fuckhole
Are ONE with the whole, divine fucking Universe…
ONE with all men
Who have waited lifetimes
For this generation of HOT, ecstatic gay lovers to make themselves known.

We’ve been waiting, for lifetimes, motherfuckers!
And now…we’re here 
together
squirming 
in our own 
pig-squealing 
FUCK-JOY!

OooooYEAH!

FUCK YES!

Home, Motherfucker, HOME!
Gay Men, and Hallelujah!

1-on-1 SESSION OFFERINGS & PERSONAL RETREATS

with Brad Amberheart

Click Here for More Info

Southern Colorado & Santa Fe Hot Springs

Sept. 23-Oct. 5, 2025

St. Petersburg, Florida

Oct. 9-12, 2025

Key West, Florida

Nov. 20-23, 2025

Zipolite, Oaxaca, Mexico

February-March, 2026

I was way high up on my favorite mountain last week, camping, when I read the news that the president of the country I live in was deploying the National Guard to take over the police force of Washington, DC, and was threatening to do the same in other “Democratic cities” such as Chicago and New York.

I felt a sharp pain in my heart. Something about this scenario spelled the end…the end of my freedom to be who I am. My fight-or-flight response prepared my heart and body to know what it’s like to have a gestapo or a KGB in my country.

So what did I do? I began to sing. I sang in the night, until the ache in my heart was replaced by a sensation of grace and ease.

The pain I was feeling was not just my own, but the pain of thousands…millions of others…who are living in fear, right now, of external forces of control taking over our lives. And so I began to write words of love and consolation for any who, like me, were feeling this pain in their hearts, bodies, or souls:

The next morning, I drove a couple of hours, to the highest elevated town in Eastern North America, where my dear old friend Scott had been living for 4 seasons in his grandmother’s cabin. We met in Key West years ago, and hadn’t seen each other in a full year. He was about to leave the area to return to Key West, so this was a special visit.

I shared my concerns with my dear friend, on his porch. I continued singing in the night, and in the morning, he said the most profound and uplifting things to me, which I captured in a short 1.5 minute video and will share with you now, along with the podcast he recommended we all listen to:

Here is a link to “The Emerald,” the extraordinary, inspirational podcast my friend recommends to me and others who are ready to remember who we are and why we’re here on Earth right now.

Later that day, I found myself talking to some queer artists at a social function in Asheville, and learned, for the first time, that not only had the president deployed military force to monitor and control city streets, but that he also had appointed a new board to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, and that board had immediately elected him Chair!

It had happened last February, while I was replenishing myself on a naked gay beach in Mexico. I was a little behind on the news, evidently. Needless to say, I had to ask a lot of questions before I could believe--let alone understand--the concept that a center for the performing arts, named after President Kennedy, could possibly be under the direction of a man who proudly states that he had never been to one single function at the Kennedy Center…

There apparently is a wildly popular response to this insanity on YouTube, by Scott Forsyth, an artist who immediately gave up his job at the Kennedy Center by stripping naked and speaking the truth in a 35 minute video. I cannot find the video anywhere, even with repeated Internet searches. Please post a comment to this post if you can provide a link.

Here are some gems of encouragement, in spoken word, imagery, and written word, to conclude this post full of contrasts.

“The First Time You Made Love” (Sexy, Sultry Spoken Word set to Flowers & Bees)

by Brad Amberheart

All I Ask of You…My First Music Video, filmed in Mexico last winter, just 13 days after Trump (unbeknownst to me, in in my naked beach bliss) had become chair of the Kennedy Center. I added subtitles in Russian for my deep soul family in the Caucasus Mountains of southern Russia

Upcoming Travels:

Key West, Florida Aug. 21 to 24

Northern & Southern Colorado: Sept. 8 to 18

Santa Fe, New Mexico: Late October/Early November

Click Here to see updates on what I’m offering and where. Info is consistently being updated and refined this very week, as Reality comes into focus🌞

When I was 31 years old, I became a go-go boy in Key West. I was hardly a “boy” anymore. I was, in fact, a full-fledged man, with body hair, a touch of gray at the temples, and a killer smile. I enjoyed being in my sexy, fun, body, and my magical fagg*t friends encouraged me to put it to good use.

I was just starting to learn the power and potency of magic—particularly the magic I could work with my cock—and I was working my magic to excite throngs of hungry men and pay off my rather massive credit card debt, all at the same time.

I lived beneath a sapodilla tree in the heart of Old Key West, literally in a potting shed that had been converted into a primitive living space by a flower child sometime in the late 70’s. I had wallpapered the whole place with poster boards covered in collages I had cut out from used gay porn mags I had bought for a dollar at the secondhand book store. I literally wrote my dreams on the wall in paint and ink, interweaving them in between the images of hot buttfuck bliss.

I was quite young and virile, and had lots of fun with my body, both alone, as well as with fuckbuddies galore. I had learned what a valuable asset my cum really was, and so I set out to use every drop for the ultimate benefit of the world, by spurting countless streams of hot semen all over the walls, smearing it into the words and paint, saying out loud, “Yes, fuck yes! Thank you! Thank you!” Looking back, I must tell you…every dream came true.

I had been learning about magic from older men. My Daddy Frank, who lived across town, was a skinny hermit with a hearty laugh, who stayed home playing Wii Box and chain-smoking most of the time, but he had stories to tell, Miss Honey! My favorite story, which I asked to hear over and over, was about the naked gay strip club in Washington, DC, where a guy wearing only socks had literally jacked off into Daddy Frank’s cocktail. Yes, I loved Daddy Frank for his stories, his wits, and for the shocking, in-your-fucking-face role he had played in the early days of gay liberation.

Daddy Frank was the first to teach me about Sexual Magic.

“My lover taught me,” he said, “that it can be really simple. Just decide what you want to create, light a candle, and meditate on the flame while you visualize what it is you really, really desire, in your heart.”

Daddy Frank and I did it together one night. We sat, naked, on his bed, staring at the light of a single candle, pausing for a moment to give one another a sweet kiss on the lips, to caress one another’s balls until our cocks slowly filled with life-blood, then letting our hands rest on one another’s legs while we stared at the flame together and breathed deeply.

A deep calm settled over me. I never had meditated. I was amazed how even just a few minutes calmed and centered me. Meditating with a boner brought the added layer of pleasure. We simultaneously were relishing the deep calm of our breath, while feeling the life-throb of our hearts and bodies.

“Remember…everything is possible, as long as you can feel it in your heart,” Daddy Frank said. “You want money…it’s yours! But it only works when you really feel it in your heart. The most important question is not whether you need money or even how much. The most important question is…if you had the money, what would you want to do with it?”

“Remember, money is just energy. You could ask for all the money in the world, but you’re much more likely to manifest it if it has a clearly-identified place to flow.”

“For example,” he said, “What do you need money for? Is it to pay your rent? If so, then it probably would serve you much better to let the Universe know that you’re ready for a place to live, where you can flourish and enjoy doing your life’s work. Let the Universe provide you that place on its own terms, rather than assuming that your right to live and flourish on this Earth is somehow contingent among X number of dollars.”

“Remember…you don’t work so you can make money. You make money so you can do your life’s work. Ask the Universe for all of the resources and support you need to do the work you love.”

***

Key West was such a transient place that it had taken me literally years just to make a few friends. People came and went all the time, but gradually, over the course of 4 years, I managed to find about 4 friends. They were a bohemian tribe of fagg*t-witches, shaved-head butch boys and nellie queens who claimed their queerness in a balls-out way. Not only were they radical queers who had worn “face” (makeup and non-gender-conforming clothing) in working class Pittsburgh in the 1980’s while running a business, but they also were avid believers and practitioners in the art of magic…

One night, in the heat of the summer, on the night of the crescent moon, we gathered around a single candle flame in my shack. I’m going to tell you exactly how it was, without any further explanation, because what happened there defied all logic. Yes, what happened there was the essence of pure magic…

We were boys again…playful, silly, fun, cute…yet with the full perspective of grown men. There were 7 of us, all queer…fagg*ts, so to speak, who knew the power of the word. How we all came to know this power is another story, which rests inside the hearts and bodies of each one of us, but which lives eternally in our collective energy field as queer men, and that night…

We created our own reality. There may have been those among us who just thought we were “playing”. There may have been others who cherished this time, just for the pure fucking FUN we had, cackling like witches and singing like coyotes. Then there was I…one who had big dreams and was ready to seem them come alive.

I believed. No, in actuality… I felt deeply with my whole body, heart, and soul, and that went way beyond belief. What I felt, I also knew, with every fiber of my being, and I felt it in my body as it already had happened, because, for transcendent magicians of space and time, it had…

The energy got higher and higher. We were laughing hysterically, making up songs that made us laugh harder, when all of a sudden, my friend SnatchWitch—the most experienced witch among us, who had been known to collect fresh roadkill and turn it into magical regalia of fur and feathers—stopped us in the middle of all of our cackling and said, “OK, OK, bitches…what are we manifesting here?”

She had a good question, Miss SnatchWitch. After all, we all know we can cackle and carry on all day, and get very energized, but it’s not magic until we’re ready to name whatever it is we’re ready to bring into form, with all of our heart, body, mind, and soul, for the ultimate benefit of all.

So we went around the circle in the candlelight, one by one, to name that which we were ready to manifest…from vision into form.

“I’m ready for love to infuse every step I take,” said Girly Girl.

“I’m ready for sustained peace that I can hold, everywhere I go,” said Butch Boy.

The talisman—literally a magic wand Daddy Frank had made for me with his own hands and his own cum—went all the way around the circle, and when it got to me, my words of manifestation were very specific:

“I’m ready to use my Russian language skills help bring about healing in the world. I know that there are healers in Russia, right now, who are looking for translators, and I’m here, ready! We’re connecting, NOW!”

Daddy Frank had taught me that when you want to work magic, it helps to be as specific as possible, without being so specific that you limit yourself. I knew what I wanted, clearly. I had been an environmental geologist in my early 20’s. I had used my hard-earned Russian language skills (which I had learned through hours of intensive study abroad in college) to help get gold out of the ground in Siberia. Now, I wanted to use my Russian skills to help bring health and healing to people on planet Earth, and so I said it once again, and then a 3rd time, honing down to the most resounding expression I could find, from deep in the core of my body:

“I’m bringing healing into this world by using my Russian language skills! There are shamans, healers in Russia, right now, who are looking for me to be their translator.”

When we had all stated our intention, we continued singing, playing, and laughing until the boom-boom-boom of the late-night bars started up outside. Some of us went home and went to bed, but I went out dancing, and danced until the wee hours of the morning, continuously repeating to myself, “They’re finding me. Russian healers need translators, and they’re finding me now!”

***

I woke up around Noon the next day, grabbed a breakfast burrito and a cafe con leche from the Cuban cafe around the corner, and headed for the beach. It was a daily ritual. At that time, with the encouragement of my magic fagg*t friends, I had just started go-going, but my primary livelihood was still gardening. I created cozy little meditation gardens, filled with tropical ferns and faeries, in the corners of housewives’ yards. I lived a minimalistic life, riding a conch-cruiser one-speed bicycle everywhere, almost never wearing anything more a speedo, and paying the lowest rent in town for my shack in the trees. Somehow, I loved the juxtaposition, of dancing in a bar in a silky g-string, with my back still covered in scratches from bougainvillea vines I had trimmed that day at dusk.

So needless to say, I had a flexible schedule, and the top priority, every day, was to ride my little bicycle to the ocean, and get in.

This particular day was much like any other…get up at Noon, grab a burrito and a con leche, put on my speedo, and head for the water…

But when I got home…

I opened the box under the bed which held my answering machine. I kept the phone turned off, hidden away in a box, out of sight because I wanted to have complete authority over if or when I used the phone. The phone did not rule my life. I ruled my life, and I only looked at my answering machine when I was ready…

Evidently, I was ready, because this time, the red light on the answering machine was blinking, and when I pressed play, here is what I heard:

“Hello Brad. My name is Dolores. I work for the Dream Change Coalition…”

Hmmmm…Dream Change Coalition…that sounds like my kind of place, I thought. Somewhere in the recesses of my memory, it seemed I had run across that name before, maybe in a Google search a year or two ago…

“We’re having a conference in October at the Omega Institute in New York, calling together shamans and wisdom keepers from all over the world. One of our colleagues mentioned you as a potential translator for our visiting shamans from Russia…. Also, we have a colleague who’s on the way to Siberia next month, to bring together native people of North America and Siberia, and he also may be looking for a Russian translator.

***

(To be continued someday soon, under titles bearing words like “Zen Go-Go,” “Queer Sex Magic,” and “Siberian Shamanism”)

Upcoming Travel Dates!

KEY WEST Aug. 21-24 * BOULDER, CO Sept. 8-15 * SANTA FE, NM Oct. 14-20

MORE INFO HERE.

I visited my former home of Key West this past week, where I lived and danced naked from my late 20’s until my late 30’s. Today, almost all of my friends I knew there have moved away or died, and yet…something magical happened there, which I can only call “angelic,” as I found myself nourished, embraced, and surrounded by all of the love I’ve known. Let this be the first in a series of stories I’ve longed to tell, of magic, lust, and bewildering beauty. This is my first Substack story in spoken word VIDEO form! It’s free for everyone. Enjoy it, share it widely, and write me a comment!

Brad

BOTTOMS UP! Paintings by the late Jack Baron, famous Key West artist who painted local faces, as well as the colorful work of Joey Tepedino and various others.

“I’ve not had sex in a month,” I confessed to him, as I made dinner, naked at his AirBnB, my bare ass toward him as I focused on cooking chicken shawarma with rice and vegetables.

It was, indeed, a confession.  I don’t remember when I could have ever told a client such a thing…such a personal thing about my own sex life. To say “I’ve not had sex in a month” could potentially signal that I was needy, and liable to use my client for my own sexual gratification…

I turned around to see the horny fucker squirming, in bed, bound by all fours to the bed posts using wrist and ankle restraints, happier than a fucking squealing pig in shit.  

And so I found myself revising my thoughts😈…

“Tell my why you came here again?” I asked him, a big shit-eating grin spreading across my face. 

5 hours into our first day of sessions, almost my entire face remained covered in a Mexican luchador wrestling hood. I had decided to keep my mask on, whenever I didn’t have him blindfolded, not only because he’d told me that masks wildly excite him, but also because I knew that masks gave me the creative license to be anything I felt like being.  To put it even more accurately, the mask gave him the license to let me be what he most needed to see.

Such is the art of Sacred Intimacy.  As a Sacred Intimate, for the duration of our session, I mirror what my client most needs to see. I become his lover, his intimate friend…or even his father, if that’s what serves his highest good right now, in his journey of personal evolution.  I turn my body, heart, and soul over to a guidance greater than me or my ego, and allow myself to be a vessel to serve, and yes…I also have a fucking good time doing it!

I’m also a Tantrica.  That means that every action, word, and deed is in service of personal and global transformation. My philosophy is that in Tantra, “T” is for “Transformation”.  Every moment of every day, those of us who are aware that we’ve been called here to evolve and transform are forever dying to our Old Self and being born to our New Self.  

When I’m with an eager client who’s on a path of awakening, I am the midwife for the birthing of his New Self. 

I step closer, putting first one knee, then the other, onto the bed, just inches from his quivering, excited body, repeating the question, “Tell me, Lover.  Why did you come here?  

Our two eyes meet.  There’s just enough of a glow from the soft kitchen lighting and the single flame of a candle for me to see his glimmering eyes.  

“I came here to embrace the whore that I am, as well as the priest that I’ve been,” he said.

***

He had left his priesthood in the Catholic Church more than 15 years ago.  Like so many gay men who find their way into the priesthood, he was discovering that the container of the spiritual tradition he had chosen to follow could no longer hold all of him…most especially the pure slut that he loved to be, as well as the man of holiness he was expected to be.

And so here we are, 15 years later, his naked body tied to a bed, squirming, panting…lips awaiting the first touch of my…

“Give me your tongue,” I command, gripping the back of his neck firmly with my right hand, devilishly teasing just the outer surface of his lips with my lips, then taking his tongue fully into my mouth, sucking on it just enough to excite the fuck out of him, without approaching his edge of discomfort.

How does a man of the priesthood ever find his way into my bed, I think, but I already know the answer, as I lightly caress his body, sending him into whole-body tremors.  I put the blindfold back on him and remove my mask.  He’s still not seen my face, even over the course of—literally—5 or 6 hours of nearly-non-stop sex play.

"Tell me again why you came here?" I demand, raising his knees to meet his chest.

"To get fucked by you, Sir," he replies. 

"That's true, you excited fucker!" I affirm for him, pressing my pounding heart against his taint, "But there's more.  Tell me why you really came here."

He's panting. He knows what's coming.

"Hey, take a deep, deep breath with me, all the way up from your nut sac to the top of your head."

Gleefully, he obeys.  We breathe together.

"Again," I say. "This time, let out your breath with a sound that feels good.

Ahhhh...

Body relaxes. I press my cock against his, pinning him down by his biceps, relishing the tension in his muscles, straining joyously against the ropes.  

"You're a helpless motherfucker!" I tell him.  I know just the words to say that will send him into quivers, so I use them sparingly, but with just the right timing.

"Keep breathing...all the way from your nut sac to the top of your head and back down," I command.

He does as instructed, and finally, for the third time, I ask, "So...tell me why you came here, Lover."

"I came here because I'm ready for more intimacy like this, on a regular basis, Sir!"

"Bingo!  And now tell me...what are these men like, who come to meet you in bed?  Go ahead, take another deep breath, and tell me..."

I lube up my left hand, pin down his right arm with my free forearm, and wrap my legs around his bound ankles so that he's double-pinned by the ropes and by me, then grab  both of our cocks and squeeze them tight while kissing his lips, growling in the excitement of being completely in charge.

"If we were wrestling, you would probably win, you sexy fucker," I say, "but Daddy likes to play dirty, because you fucking asked for it..."

"Tell me this is what you really, really want, you wonderful dirty fucker," I tease.

"Yes, Sir!" he says, free from any or all hesitation.  "This is the kind of excitement I really, really fucking love!"

"And so what kinds of lovers are finding their way to you?"

I release my locked lips enough from his to hear him say, "I'm enjoying SEXY, FUN, and KINKY lovers who are really, really into me, and who know how to give one another the full attention, pleasure, and focus we deserve."

"My GOD, you've fuckin' got it!" I say to him, "and now, you're gonna get it..."

It’s a rainy, so called “gloomy” day outside. Nothing stands between him and me, man to man, here in our “chamber,” an AirBnB behind some stranger's house, with only a few windows revealing the vibrant new foliage of spring…the occasional song bird punctuating the silence and stillness we have made for each other, in between frequent rounds of wild, hungry lust, passionate kissing, and outright buttfucking…

“Everything we share together here brings ultimate benefit to you, to me, the people we love, and this world,” I’ve whispered in his ear, over and over, throughout this day made in fuck-heaven, as I pleasure, excite, and exhilarate his body from head to toe, inside and out…

***

Creation comes to life in my hands, as I tell you the story of what really happened, painted through the lens of my keen, enlivened perception.  

Yes, if it’s true that everything we see, hear, touch, and feel in this life is filtered through the lens of our own perception, then I must say I’ve devoted my whole life to refining and attentively shaping the lens through which I see. After all, it’s my fucking lens!  Nobody can tell me it’s anything less than perfection.  The life I have created is bountiful, rich, potent, powerful, and full of scenes just like this one…and it’s my full intention to share as much of the fullness of what I’ve seen as I can with you, while simultaneously inviting you, my beloved, to also refine your own lens, through which you see and interpret this world, because everything, everyone, and everybody we encounter is, indeed, a product of our own creation, my dear.  Accept it, believe it…or simply allow it to be.  And so it is.  Gay Men.


***

“We’ve gotta make sure you’re gonna get this, often,” I tell him, as I slide my hard dick into his cute, sexy white bikini underwear, nesting our happy cocks together in his pouch, taking full advantage of his consensual position, of being helpless, vulnerable, and exposed to all of the man-on-man, dirty-wrestler excitement he can possibly stand…unless he says the agreed-upon safe word, maple.

Agh…our bodies moan and groan in the pure pleasure of the heated excitement we’ve been building all fucking day. As a matter of fact, we’ve been building this excitement for over a month!  

I had interviewed him on the phone from Mexico over a month ago.  I wanted to find out what it was he really fucking wanted, and to make absolutely sure that what I had to offer was in full resonance with his heart’s calling, and guess what?  It was!  Everything I ever wanted to do with him (Praise God!) was exactly what he most needed and wanted.  And…

Did I almost forget to tell you that when we first spoke by phone, he said he hardly ever even felt “horny” anymore, and was concerned about his loss of sex drive?

Did I almost forget to tell you that even though he sometimes found himself in sexual situations which he thought would exceed his wildest wet dreams, he found himself anxious, shut down, and not enjoying himself?

And did I almost forget to tell you that erections were not a consistent part of his daily existence, before we talked?

Today, I most surely would not have recognized him as the same man.  The man who, only a month ago, had described his sex life as “quite dead,” had been replaced by the excited, exhilarated, slap-happy fucker who lay writhing and squirming in this bed.  

“My life changed as soon as we connected,” he tells me, my head now resting on his chest in a brief lull in our heated action.  “You were the catalyst for changes I could never have imagined.”

I did my best to take in and receive his compliments, without distracting us from the important work at hand, which was the birthing of his New Self.  I had suggested he start doing some sort of physical activity for at least 20 minutes a day, and had given him journal prompts to help him contemplate what his spiritual path might be as an ex-priest.  Of course, I had also sent him my Guided Evolutionary Tantric Masturbation audio.😁

“Not everybody implements my suggestions,” I told him. “Congratulations on doing really good work. It’s on days like this when I feel like my life’s purpose has really been fulfilled. Plus, I really get to enjoy you, by fully meeting you in the fullest expression of the sexy fucker that you really are!”

When I say words like this to a man, I can only dream that if and when a day comes in my life, when I feel shut down in my sexuality, that there will be wonderful “sex angels” on this Earth who can hold me, love me, and affirm me the way I did for this man, today. Yes!  If there is such thing as karmic points in the bank, well…this man and I really banked them today, honey!


***

Ahh…the conversations we have while we have a horny fucker tied to the bed…

“Many have said that in order for us to know the level of euphoric sexual ecstasy that we’ve known today, we also have to know the depths of our own grief…” I told him, as I hopped up to go tend to dinner, still sizzling away on the stove the whole time I’d been teasing his highly-excited body in bed.

Silence. My words hung in the air.  All we could hear were the tantalizing sounds of chopped onions in a skillet on a hotplate.

“Yeah,” I said, continuing with my back to him so that I could focus on adding the seasoned chicken shawarma thighs from Trader Joe’s to the mix, “It’s still a theory, and I’m not sure I completely grok it yet, but apparently, according to many great teachers I’ve encountered, we can only know the heights of euphoric ecstatic oneness when we’ve also known the depths of our own sorrow, and have been willing to go deep into our own shadows, to take a good hard look at what we find to be painful, unattractive, and even downright repulsive…”

Something in me was aware of the deep silence between my words.  I knew that my bound, captive love-buddy was really taking this in.  One of my favorite teachers, Margo Anand, in her audio series “The Art of Sexual Magic,” teaches that we must be extra careful with the words we say to our lovers when we’ve been making love passionately for minutes, hours, or days. Whether we’re male, female, or other, our passionate lovemaking opens us up deep inside, as if opening the greater depths of our receptive womb.  

“I’m aware I’m saying a lot of words,” I told him, turning around to face him and the bed, leaving dinner sizzling behind me.  “I’m doing my best to sum up what has been life’s work for at least the past 25 years, but I could really boil it down to this…

“Some say grief and love are just different sides of the same coin.”

I went to nuzzle my warm naked body against his.  His body writhed and contracted in pleasure, as our bodies joined in sweet spinal undulations, our cocks and abdomens sliding joyously in warm coconut oil… 

“What’s really alive in your heart now, Lover?” I ask him, momentarily aware of all of the contrasts…the wrist restraints, the mask I’m wearing, our warm hearts pounding in our chests, reverberating through another’s warm flesh and bone, all accompanied by the sweet and savory smells of a nourishing dinner on the stove.

“That song you sent  to me,” he said…“All I Ask of You…I listened to it.”

“That’s fuckin’ guuud…” I whispered in his ear in my sweetest Fuck-Daddy voice.

“But what you don’t know,” he said, “Is that I used that song for several years during my priesthood…”

Suddenly, like a cloudburst, the tears come.  I hold him tightly against my body, more tightly than ever, and allow his cathartic sobs to catalyze me in my own heart, until I join him in the catharsis.  “Both are healed or neither is healed,” my precious teacher Joseph Aldo had said to me many times. In fact, early on in my journey, when I had begun my healing practice simply by holding people in my care, non-erotically, I had asked him, “Joseph, what happens if I’m giving an elderly man a reiki session, and I find myself with an erection?

“Relish it,” he had said. “You don’t have to assign any meaning to it.  You don’t have to do anything about it. Just let it be.  Let it bring you the energy that’s needed right then, and honor the life force which is coursing through your body, supporting you in this healing.”

Both are healed, or neither is healed…I hear, as I join my client in cathartic sobbing, bodies intertwined, fingers interlaced, lips interlocked in a profound kiss of transformational bliss and beauty…

Eventually, our sobs pass, much like an earthquake, until we find ourselves, once again, lying as if in a peaceful garden of complete stillness, feeling only the gentle rise and fall of our breath.  Only then do I decide to ask him more about his priesthood.

"You mean the song that I learned from a pagan in Portland was actually derived from a Catholic hymn?"

"Yep," he said, "it was written by Gregory Norbert, who was a Benedictine monk for 21 years, but the version you sang only used the words of the refrain, along with parts of  other songs.  We used it a lot in mass during a brief period in the 70's, when guitar and flute found their way into church liturgy."

We hold one another, 
hearts together
home
alive
replenished...

“And you played guitar during mass?” I asked him.

“Yes, but because I was in charge of the service, the guitar playing was normally done by someone else…and like I said, the 'fad' of using guitars during mass was short lived, in the 70's.”

“And why didn't you play guitar much in the service?  Is there some unwritten rule that priests don’t play guitar and sing as part of their message?”

“I guess so,” he said, “Which is probably one reason I left, not to mention that I wanted to explore my life as a gay man, and I couldn’t do it there.”

"Do you play guitar now?" I ask him.

"I haven't played in at least 15 years," he replies.

A long silence settles over the room in the wake of his last words.  Through the silence, faintly, I can hear the song of a familiar songbird outside. “Do you hear that little bird?” I ask him.

“No,” he replies.

Still intertwined with him, I stretch my right arm just far enough to reach the window, about a meter above the head of the bed where we’ve literally fucked all day. I’m relieved to find the window unlocked, so that it slides open easily.

The bird’s song fills our love den, and we let the song wash over us.  It’s now the very last light of day.  In the distance, I can hear the sound of a mountain stream.  

“I’m always in awe of how many sounds there are to notice, when I stop for long enough to pay attention,” I say to him.

***

I departed in time to make the 15 minute drive in the very final light of the day, winding along the mountain roads he would be following tomorrow, to come and join me in my deep forest home for the 2nd day of his two-day-long immersion with me.  The mountains were enshrouded in fog after the spring rain that had been falling all afternoon. Truthfully, I had been so enraptured with my client in bed that I hadn’t even known it was raining…

I rounded a bend and suddenly, out of the clouds, emerged the main ridge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight. The sight was so beautiful that it took my breath away.  I pulled the car over and let the emotions overtake me.

Why do I cry at the sight of such beauty, I though to myself, as I sat at the wheel, beside the road, and let the tears flow down my face and onto my chest.  I didn’t have time or space to contemplate it with my mind. All I knew was that it felt good…to live my life with such an open heart. I had never had to leave a priesthood, but I most definitely had had to die many times to things that no longer served me.  I had died to my corporate career, the prospect of a home and marriage…having children…health insurance…Life had beckoned me—or even demanded me —to forever let go of so many of the things we seem to think we just can’t live without, and now…

Here I am, a priest.  I went the opposite way of you, my friend and lover. You left the priesthood to live your life.  I left my life to live my priesthood.  I must say I’m happy, and…I grieve every day. I grieve the things that will never be again…my youth, my lovers who’ve come and gone…even my mother, who will never again come to walk beside me in this life…my father, who died with a broken heart when I was 25 years old and had just come out of the closet…

Yes, Dear God, I grieve. When will the grief ever end?  Truthfully, I hope it never will. It’s so precious, and so vital, to help me always remember my open, loving heart.  My grief is the Source of my vitality, and the root of my ecstatic oneness with the Divine.

A Song: "Call Me By My True Name" (words by Thích Nhất Hạnh)

My Joy is like a spring so warm
It makes flowers bloom
All over the Earth

My pain is like a river of tears
So vast it fills the 4 oceans

Please call me by my true name
So that I can hear the cries and the laughter

So that I may know
That my joy and pain are one

Please call me by my true name
So that I can WAKE UP!

And the doors of my heart
Can remain open

--Words by Thích Nhất Hạnh, Vietnamese Buddhist Monk

And so here I am, a man of grief and love…a man who has most definitely not escaped the unescapable pain of being gay, being weird, and just being human. 

Here I am, God. 
Come and take me.  
Take me out of this fucked-up illusion!
Let me know what is REAL
Every Fucking Day that I live, 
On Earth
As it is in Heaven.

Gay Men 
And Hallelujah!