My First Experience at RCJ

The following testimonial is a forum entry by JOArtist, posted on 3/3/2016 in the Rain City Jacks group forum at It has not been edited from the original and is presented here in its entirety.  [Paul]


I just had a fantastic time at Rain City Jacks. On the chance that other guys might have similar concerns about attending an RCJ event, I’ll describe what I found there and why I’ll be going again.

I’ve always had the fantasy that a JO club could be a great place: lots of fellow masturbators, all getting off together. Hoping to find that, over the years I’ve gone to a half-dozen different places that described themselves as JO clubs. The reality of these places was always disappointing. Part of the problem was surely me, not fully engaging in the event or knowing the local conventions. But I was also turned off by the environments they all seemed to share: a place so dark I could barely see anything, made of tiny rooms and twisty corridors I kept bumping into, and aggressively loud and fast techno music. Nobody ever said a word or made a sound (not that you could have heard them over the music). There was no human connection, only barely-perceptible body parts. Nothing about that felt inviting or even particularly sexy to me. I’d always stay a while, hoping to get into it, but I never did. I’d eventually find a spot, get into my own cock, cum, and go home, vowing next time to just stay at home and have a much better time with myself. I recently learned that these were probably bathhouses and sex clubs, and not really JO clubs at all.

A few buddies here on BW have told me RCJ was different, but I held off, because I wanted to avoid a repeat of what I’d found elsewhere. Plus I’ve put on some pounds, and along with an average-sized cock, I felt that I’d be unattractive, self-conscious, and unwelcome.

But urged by my online pals, I worked up the courage to go to the Sunday afternoon event a few days ago.

I immediately realized this place was different and better than the places I’d been before. Two friendly guys were working the door, checking people in and helping new guys with the signup process. They were warm and welcoming and clearly happy to be there. They set a really great and friendly, no-pressure vibe. Then they offered to give me a tour and overview. What a great idea! No club I’d ever been to before offered anything like that.

A few minutes later another very friendly fellow arrived and collected the 4 or 5 of us new guys. He showed us around the locker room, and then we sat down and went over the rules, which I thought were really well designed, including the wristbands that told others whether or not to ask before touching. Then we went into the space where all the guys were.

It was nothing like the clubs I’d been to before. The music was slower-paced and set to a nice background volume. You could talk to people, and be heard. The space was lit gently, so you could see everyone and everything (no more bumping into walls and benches!). The space itself was a big open room with lots of places to sit and stand, along with a room holding a couple of big, soft beds. It felt inviting.

When the tour was done, I was surprised at how comfortable I felt stripping down in the locker room. When I went back into the big room, and really looked around, the last of my worries disappeared. There were men of all ages and sizes, tall and short, thin and wide, cocks big and small, soft and hard, and though I was primed for any kind of judgment or dismissal, there was none to be found. It was emotionally easier than going to a dinner party where you only know one or two people.

Over the course of the next hour or so, I masturbated openly watching other men do the same, I was politely asked by several men if they could stroke my cock, and when they did I returned the favor. It was amazing to sit side by side with someone, our arms around each other, masturbating each other in a room full of other masturbators. Putting lube on each other was wonderful. Stroking each other was just as natural and sexy as it could be, and intensely, vibrantly erotic. Being able to talk to each was key: we could even whisper dirty talk to each other, or tell the other to be more gentle, or forceful, or faster, so we were both feeling great.

I won’t say I wish I’d gone earlier, because my own fears might have dominated my experience and I might not have had a good time. But I’m glad that I faced those fears and decided to give it try, going in with a positive attitude. That helped me discover a JO club that was the kind of place I’d always hoped for, and in my own backyard. I was worried that nobody would want to even walk up to an overweight guy. Instead, I was asked several times by sexy men if they could stroke my cock for a while. And man, did they know how to stroke cock! I met another guy who enjoys frot, and we had a fantastic time grinding together, standing up and then on one of the beds. I hope I made all of these guys feel as good as they made me feel.

I’ll definitely be going again.

If you’re like me, and worried about your physical appearance (weight, cock size, hair, or anything else), don’t be. Nobody’s judging you. I found the whole experience liberating and warm, welcoming, and intensely masturbatory in the best ways. If the idea of joining a room full of men masturbating themselves and each other appeals to you, I can’t imagine a better place to have that experience.

I’m better when you play along.

I thrive on your comments and questions. Please help stimulate my creativity and engage with me in the comments section below. Use the area marked “Join the conversation…” or “Start the conversation…”

Thank you,

I’m Cumming

At Rain City Jacks, we enjoy group masturbation with a few key rules and helpful guidelines. One of them is this:

“Warn verbally before you shoot. Don’t just breathe heavily. Say it out loud with words.”

During new member orientation, I may put it this way: “In the event of an orgasm, don’t just breathe heavy. Announce it. Every man in the room instinctively takes notice when one of us orgasms. The moment any member cums, no matter who it is, every face turns in that direction or just smiles and feels good. We are all driven reflexively to share that moment. It’s tribal and powerful. It’s part of a basic, repressed humanity we share and every orgasm, whether it’s inches away or in the next room, echoes in our own bodies, urges each of us toward our own orgasms.

“It is a power of groups of men being naked and erect and openly jacking off together that every man’s pleasure is magnified by every other man’s pleasure. It’s the encapsulation of why we’re here.

“So don’t be stingy. Share your orgasms openly, fully, with abandon. Share the shuddering eruption of cum and those fleeting, ecstatic, full-being sensations openly, boldly. Share explicitly by opening your mouth and using your words. Say ‘I’m cumming’ or ‘I’m gonna cum’ or ‘here it comes’ or whatever words tumble from your mouth in the barely verbal crescendo of the moment. Allow yourself to dissolve fully into your orgasm while simultaneously melting into the excitement of your brothers all around you, witnessing and experiencing it themselves over and over and over.”

Well… what I actually say in orientation is a little shorter than that, but it’s what I mean. The power of an orgasm in the presence of others—whether with one romantic partner or with a cadre of friends or strangers—is revealed in the moment we let go fully and really share our ecstasy.

The verbalizing of this ephemeral experience does several things at once: It short-circuits any shred of residual shame. It claims the experience as one’s own, proclaiming that “it’s my turn.” It bridges the triune brain from the reptilian, through the limbic and neocortical regions and for the briefest time, lights it all up.

We evolved in groups of other humans that shared everything before we put down the roots that civilized us and separated us and often dehumanized and divided us into property or owners instead of fellows and family and tribe. That part of being human—the communal, sharing primate—is far more deeply established in our brains and bodies than the objectifying, civilized human beings we’ve become.

Sharing ecstasy has the power to reawaken that innate ability to connect to each other that so many of us have lost over countless generations of cultural conditioning. It is the dose of medicine that instantaneously relieves the gnawing separation all civilized people experience and it is keyed to every one of us, part of our primate heritage that doesn’t drag us back, but unifies us, integrates us and smooths our way forward.

I’m better when you play along.

I thrive on your comments and questions. Please help stimulate my creativity and engage with me in the comments section below. Use the area marked “Join the conversation…” or “Start the conversation…”

Thank you,

Straight Evolution

in August of 2010, I posted this in my blog. It was, in fact, my first entry. Reading it today, I realize I’ve evolved in my thinking…

Five-plus years later, I no longer assume that the man stroking my penis with absolute fascination and focus is actually gay or bisexual. I’ve actually come to a place where I feel comfortable accepting—at least the possibility—that he is actually heterosexual… or at least that his identifying as heterosexual isn’t automatically denial.

This isn’t easy for me. Like anyone, I like my answers simple and my causations and explanations solid and identifiable. I like this-therefore-that explanations that don’t force me to think too much.

But there it is. Men who regularly co-pleasure other men at my JO club identify as “straight” and I have decided to take them at their word… to a point.

First, I believe (there’s that “B” word I can’t avoid) that straight guys can enjoy sexual pleasuring from another male, even enjoy a fascination with another man’s penis, without losing any of their attraction to or fascination with women.

Because I know them. I’ve met them and I’ve played with them. It actually feels different masturbating with straight guys, although it can feel intensely passionate from a physical perspective. There’s just something missing… a sense of more intimate bonding and recognition. They seem less invested in the act, even though they’re just as committed to the moment as I am.

“I’m just a slut” was the answer I got from one friend I asked about his sexuality. After further exploration, it came out that he felt and identified as straight, but because he enjoys sex play with men during three-ways with his wife, because he’s not resistant to it, he felt compelled to identify as “just a slut” rather than admitting that all he masturbates to are fantasies involving women.

You and I can label him “bisexual.” 

And maybe all of this analysis is just more bullshit and we’re all simply struggling futilely to fit sexual attraction into those clearly defined compartments… just in a more nuanced way. 

I do believe that there are constitutional differences between what we broadly think of as gay men and what we think of as straight men. Strangely enough, I no longer include the assumption that a man’s ability and desire to take sexual pleasure in another man is the sole defining characteristic of sexual orientation.

It really is okay to admit that we don’t know everything and that some things are confusing.

I’m better when you play along.

I thrive on your comments and questions. Please help stimulate my creativity and engage with me in the comments section below. Use the area marked “Join the conversation…” or “Start the conversation…”

Thank you,