My Blatino Oasis 2017 (NSFW)

I finally got my ass over to Palm Springs, California for the Blatino oasis gay event

late last month. Something I had been thinking of doing for the last 6 years but couldn’t, due to (in no particular order) work commitments, personal finances, weddings and a morbid fear of being used for target practice by a jacked up US law enforcement officer.

But I overcame all these obstacles and found myself in the sweltering Palm Springs desert heat of 36 degrees centigrade and looking forward to the entertainment,  lined up for the year’s Blatino gathering.

Here is a blurb from the website www.blatinooasis.com

“Blatino Oasis is a retreat (not a pride event), started in 2007, and held annually in Palm Springs, California. The next event will be held April 27-April 30, 2017. The retreat offers a variety of activities geared towards gay and bisexual men of color and our friends & lovers, to help us to party, relax and enjoy ourselves, in the beautiful, very gay friendly and legendary Hollywood vacation resort getaway to the stars, Palm Springs, California.”

Passes for the activities are released 12 months in advance and the early bird passes sell out really quickly, so I purchased mine not too long after they were released last year.

As is the norm for such events organised in the US, there is a host hotel, where most of the activities are held. For Blatino Oasis it was a clothing optional gay resort called CCBC. This is where the pool party and the nightly after-hours parties were held.  Rooms tend to sell out quickly at the CCBC during Blatino oasis weekend and though I did look into staying there, I decided against it. In my limited experience of going to nudist beaches and colonies, when it comes to the ratio of hotties to notties present, the pendulum tends to swing (excuse the pun) heavily on the side of notties. The hot models depicted in the adverts for some inexplicable reason never seem to be around when I am there.  So I booked a room in a clothing mandatory hotel.

On the first day (Thursday) there was a “Meet + Greet” held at the host hotel, which I missed as I arrived late in Palm Springs and was way too tired to attend. However a welcome reception was organised for the next day. This took place on the grounds of a restaurant in Downtown Palm springs where attendees could collect their passes and complete registration to allow them entry into the host hotel.

The reception started at 4pm but I arrived at 5pm. I collected my pass and registered for CCBC and stayed for a bit. There were not that many people around, perhaps they were yet to arrive or had been and left already. But there was a bar and a photographer selling his hard bound photo book of black models and gay celebrities, some of whom were attending the Blatino event, which he had taken over a period of time. I flipped through the book, which was quite interesting but not enough for me get a copy.

 

There was also a tent for sexual health workers who were in attendance to encourage people to get tested on the premises and throughout the Blatino event. I just got tested 2 months before and due another one in 3 months. I decided to give this one a miss, but I do like the initiative of the organisers partnering with the health authorities to promote sexual health.

I was jet lagged and still on UK time, which was 7 hours ahead. I had to have a disco nap before the Erotic Hollywood kick off Dance party slated for later that night at 9pm, or I’d be a wreck. So I left and drove the short 5 minutes back to my hotel and hit the sack.

I woke up about 10pm, had a quick shower, put on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of trainers and headed for the venue for the kick off dance party.  It was in downtown Palm Springs and I was at the venue by 11pm. Though the party was meant start at  9pm, there weren’t many people at the venue.

But the Hip-hop and rap music blaring out of the speakers was good and made up for any tardiness. The music made a pleasant change from the techno trance music you hear in European gay clubs. Here I could actually feel the rhythm of the music without wandering if I had to be on some psychedelic drugs to feel it.

I got myself a drink from the cute and attentive barman, who kept topping up my drink while assuring me that things would soon pick up. And true to his word and not long after I settled down on a bar stool, a group of fit exotic male dancers clad in nothing but high top trainers and different forms of skimpy cod pieces, jock straps and thongs all with pronounced bulges, appeared from the back room. Some got on the podium in the main dancing area while others got on the bar and started gyrating in front of the customers.

At the beginning, business was slow for the dancers and only a few punters felt them up while stuffing dollar bills into their sexy underwear. It was a case of supply being higher than demand. Soon enough more guys arrived at the club the place started jumping and then the dynamic flipped – Demand becoming higher than the supply.  There were now small crowds of guys surrounding each dancer, vying for a chance to stuff dollar bills in their underwear, while cupping a feel of their body but at the same time being careful, as required by law, not to touch their (dancers) private parts, unless invited to do so by the dancer.

I did watch as some elderly white male customers shuffled from dancer to dancer, stuffing money into the dancers’ skimpy briefs. The dancers seem to have a formula, whereby the more they thrust their bums and cocks at these elderly white men, the more the bills kept coming out. Mathematically, the amount of money received was directly proportional to the intensity of the twerking.

When in Rome as they say and in the spirit of supporting black enterprise, I parted with a few dollar bills myself and hung them on the string band of one of the dancer’s underwear.  But if I am being honest, smashing any of the near naked booty in front of me, was the furthest thought from my mind.  Maybe it was a case of way too many of them in my face or I was still jet lagged. But all in all it was interesting watching the audience interaction both with the acts and between the audience members as well.

As planned, by 2am the dance party was over and most of us headed to the clothing optional gay resort – CCBC for the after-hours event.

CCBC is located in Cathedral City about 10 km from Downtown, Palm Springs. It took me less than 10mins to drive down there from the dance party venue and after going through the security formalities, I entered the vast grounds and was greeted by the sweet smell of some Californian 420 variety.

The complex comprises about 45 rooms of various sizes housed in bungalows, arranged in a triangle around the perimeter of the resort. There are 2 spa tubs, an outside pool, a sauna, a locker/changing area and 3 main play areas. The paly areas are made up of an outdoor play area and two indoor ones housed in buildings similar to prefabricated steel structures found on US Military bases. The indoor play areas each have staging props like harnesses and slings for having sex and a large TV screen showing gay porn.

I saw guys trussed up in the slings, legs in the stirrups and guys taking turns fucking them. Other guys stood around waiting their turn and watching the action and playing with themselves. There were also spit roast sessions in other areas, guys pairing off into corners and humping away and of course there was the obligatory bukkake session too.

I noticed that wherever there was penetrative sex going on, it was invariably unprotected. This never ceases to perturb me. The guys were probably “Negative on PrEP” (An HIV status I found common on Grindr and Scruff profiles on this trip) or Undetectable. In both cases the risk of HIV infection is said to be negligible. But call me outmoded or primitive and at the risk of sounding as dreary as a Euro techno severally remixed song, there are other transmittable STDs that can be prevented by using condoms. While the spread of HIV is on the decrease due to PrEP, the spread of other antibiotic resistant STDs are on the rise.

I hung around the play area for a few more minutes taking in the sleazy sex around me and left to walk around the resort. There was sex everywhere outside on the grounds and in guest rooms where they purposefully left the curtains open for everyone to see and join in if they so desire.

I can’t speak to other people’s choices of casual sex partners except my own, but from what I saw and (in most cases may need therapy to unsee), it was a free loving environment and this caused a few sayings to come to bear – “Every ashawo (prostitute) get customer”  ;“There is a lid for every pot”; “Every hole’s a goal”; “There is a top for every bottom”; “One man’s muscle is another man’s fat” and finally the most exclaimed by me that night – “WTF!!?!?!”😳😳😳

The next day (or later in the day)  was the main event the Jack’d Erotic pool party which was held at CCBC.  Kick off was 1pm, but events did not get started till about 3pm. To start things off, some S&M leather fetish group comprising, consisting of  bears of colour clad in leather outfits and accessorised with leather whips and paddles, gave a live demonstration extolling the of S&M in heightening sexual pleasure. Personally, the leather fetish scene does nothing for me. For now I like having sex without any accessories.  Whilst being whipped with a leather belt may appear to heighten sexual pleasure in some men, in this particular ethnic environment, this live sex act reminded me of scenes from “Roots” and  “12 years A slave “. But hey, each to their own.

The fetish guys were followed by solo performances by some of the star billed exotic performers from the previous night at the club. This time as it was daylight and their outfits left very little to the imagination, I got to see the veins on their pneumatically erect dicks. They also contorted themselves into different positions showing their dexterity gained by a possible a stint with the circus a life time ago; and in some cases showing the pigmentation around their arseholes, much to the delight of the dollar bill raining audience.

One of them even poured hot candle wax on his long erect dick. It wasn’t clear to me why he did it, but I think I saw him grimace for a split second.

There was also two swim wear fashion shows showcasing the designs of a couple of local designers. Apparently one of the designers is making the transition from porn to fashion design. This change in vocation was clearly reflected in his scanty designs.

To cap off the day’s events some awards were given out to some porn stars. I am sure they are well known – Mustang, Deep Dicc and Daddy Dream. Hitherto to this event and to spoof Mariah Carey “I did not know them”. Between them they were awarded “Best Top”, “ Best bottom” and “Best freak”.

The final award for the event was a Porn lifetime achievement award presented to Remy Mars, (Him I vaguely remember seeing in porn).  He announced that he was retiring from porn after 10 years in the business. (Just a random thought, but I am sure Jay-Z announced his retirement from Rap music many years ago). Anyway Remy accepted his award and gave a valedicktory live sex performance with another soon to be former colleague of his.  Unfortunately, when it came to the pre-money shot i.e. the penetration bit (again bareback), the performance fell flat. The other actor, a top, got stage fright and lost his erection.

By 7pm the show ended and the crowds disperse to go and prepare for the “Fetish Party” at another venue at 9pm and more after-hours shenanigans later back at the resort. I gave both a miss, as I thought the pool event was going to be the highlight for me and I had no appetite to see those leather bears again, especially in a closed environment.

I needed the rest as over the past two days I had exchanged a few details with some guys and had agreed to hook up with them at various times before we all left Palm Springs for our respective bases at the end of the weekend.

Thank goodness I made that decision, because all the hook ups materialised as planned and at the end of it all, I had a deeper understanding of Whitney’s song “I Didn’t Know My Own Strength”