More Things Are Going Up My Butt in My Thirties
I'm officially a "Daddy," according to 22-year-old twinks, and I couldn't be happier.
Last week was one of the best of my life. I had an op-ed published in the New York Times on bisexuality. Jonzu threw me an incredible birthday party where I was surrounded by my best friends. (I felt so damn loved.) I went to Riis beach and stared at all the boys in thongs. Then I was prominently featured on ABC’s Nightline talking about “Hot Vax Summer.” (A big L O L.)
If this sets the tone for the next decade, I’m fucking ecstatic to be what 22-year-olds call “Daddy,” and the 19-year-old twinks call “Zaddy.”
(All photos by Ben Gundersen)
My twenties were a clusterfuck, as your twenties are supposed to be. For one, I came out as bi when I was 23. I completely switched careers from getting a Ph.D. in clinical psychology to writing about all the goddamn sex I have. (My mother was not initially thrilled.) I’ve had boyfriends, girlfriends, and everywhere in between. I’ve broken hearts, more than I care to admit, and had my brittle, bisexual heart torn to shreds.
But honestly, the most surprising thing I discovered in my twenties? I love having things up my ass. Literally anything at this point. Truly love it. And my job is now encouraging other people to shove shit up their asses too. Pretty cool!
So moving into my thirties, I plan to shove more things up my butt. I think it’s time I got fisted. I think it’s time I got DP-ed. I think it’s time I put a gerbil up there just to see how it attempts to claw its way out. (Okay, maybe not that last one, but yes to the first two!) I think it’s time to do more. And no, I’m not just doing it for BOYSLUT. I’m doing it for me! Thirty-year-old me!
Okay, so throwing in a couple of cute pics from my birthday weekend because why the hell not!
(Cutting bisexual birthday, Zach cake!)
(MY MESSY DRUNK ASS!)
(With half of Jonzu’s beat on my nose. Too many kisses!)
Okay, now off to a few housekeeping things:
I am still accepting submissions. However, I have been very picky. One overall bit of advice if you’re thinking about submitting (and you should!), make it gripping from the first sentence. I’m getting a lot of intros that start with something along the lines of “I was out on vacation to Idaho with some friends.” Good for you, but that doesn’t make me want to keep reading. If you need to start the story in the middle and then go back to the beginning, do it. Whatever it takes to have me excited from the first sentence. HORN ME UP.
I’m unlocking my threesome story with Wolf permanently because I want everyone to have goddamn access to it regardless if they’re a paid subscriber.
A taste for next week for paid subscribers: Talking about the first time I ever went down on a man. It was both hilarious and arousing.
I’m sharing the first few paragraphs from last week’s BOYSLUT. (The first piece that was not written by me!) A LIL BEHBEH TEASER.
By Andrew Gánem
There should be warnings for giving someone head. They could be written on the base of the pubis, just high-up enough that they don’t get obscured by hair, or alongside the shaft, with a big Impact font that extends like one of those inflatable men that dance outside of car dealerships.
Nothing mean or unkind, just a heads-up, so you know what to expect: likes to push your head down, expects constant eye contact, cums like a firehose, likes to slap you with the tip.
There should be warnings for giving someone head: NOT SUITABLE FOR AMATEURS, EXPERIENCED USERS ONLY.
We’re eighteen, or twenty-two, or anywhere in between because my memories are mostly just a collection of garbled nonsense that I can’t quite place chronologically, and you are her best friend.
I’m her friend too, a good friend, I’d like to believe. She is one of my best friends and I either have or had a massive crush on her, depending on whenever it is that this story actually takes place.
I’ve heard of you. She talks about you a lot, about how you speak seven languages, about your curly hair. You’re the most handsome man in the world and a bit of a fuckboy. She tells me you have beautiful, brown eyes. I wonder if she’s ever told you that I have beautiful, brown eyes.
We’re already a little tipsy by the time you come to the billiard. I’m soaking wet from walking in the rain. The rest of her friends got here on time, so they are dry and comfortable. You get only a little bit of drizzle. We all play for a while. I suck, you don’t suck as much, and you’re a way better sport about it.
I barely know any of her friends, and I get uncomfortable in social situations, so I just stick to her side like a wounded puppy. You make me uncomfortable too, in a different way.
You’re pleasant and charming, and jesusmaryandjoseph how is it possible that she undersold how hot you are? I become stupid around hot people, and I don’t mean clumsily, adorably awkward either. I mean I turn into a blabbering moron with the lexicon of a sleep-deprived toddler.
Your breath smells like tequila and Fresca. I taste both in the air when you speak.
xoxo,
Your Boyslut,
Zachary Zane
In your travels online, have you ever seen any good writing about tips for bottoming with digestive issues and/or hemorrhoids? Sorry if that’s gross, but I’m asking for a friend who would also like to put more things up his butt (……the friend is me).