I did not grow up in an environment where we could receive love, be loved for who we were. One had to perform, to be different—but better. I discovered what it meant “to be in search of recognition, to be loved.”

As a child and pre-teen, I cultivated my thoughts and my reading. I accumulated experiences and anecdotes like a vast library, yet without a family portrait. An immense desk where the wisps of cigar smoke drift. I took great pleasure in art and literature. I discovered what it meant “to be rich inside.”

In adolescence, I discovered that I could be loved, adored, or desired. I discovered seduction, and the waves that two bodies could create together. I discovered the kisses of men on my skin, and the marks of bites on my neck. I discovered friendships, sudden bursts of love, and the nuances of relationships. I discovered what it meant “to be surrounded.”

As a young university student, I discovered monastic evenings buried in syllabi, the silence of doubt, and the gentle music of sleepless nights. I discovered evenings with friends, from one home to another. I discovered that being alone with oneself could mean good company. I discovered what it meant “to be sufficient unto oneself.”

Then, still a student, I discovered my partner. I discovered love, and the one who would share my life. I discovered the adversities of life as a couple, the nuances of “I love you,” and the sharing of oneself. I discovered what it meant “to be loved, to be two.”

As a young adult, I discovered the inner workings of companies, the mechanics of politics, the ratio between performance and presentation. I discovered that the other was a missing part of oneself. I discovered obligations and respites, responsibilities and dreams to keep alive. I discovered that loving or being loved was not so simple—that everything must be earned, and that one must fight, focus on what is worth it. I discovered my flaws, my humanity, and that of others. I discovered that one must be aware that our choices belong to us, and that they are our sole responsibility. I discovered what it means “to be responsible, to be forgiving of our mistakes.”

And tomorrow, I will learn again.

I look forward to it.

I have discovered a thirst for life.

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The first half of my life unfolded in a quiet village, a retreat necessitated by my
father’s decision to sell his company. My journey with sexuality began early, deeply
intertwined with my profound faith in a higher power. Twice, I even contemplated a
monastic life. High school saw me as a shy soul, my sexual life a blank canvas.
When someone I trusted deeply within the church community betrayed me, I
distanced myself from the Catholic Church, though my faith endured. You might
wonder, “Is that why you have a cross on your back?” Yes, it is. I believe in forces
beyond humanity, beyond our understanding. Belief gives my life meaning and
direction. I may falter in my faith, but it persists.

During this period, I experimented sexually with both men and women, leading to a
period of confusion about my orientation. I have broken down and eventually put
myself back, which strengthened my resolve and independence, driving me to
become a determined in life. Friends and acquaintances will attest to my tenacity
and follow-through.

After high school, I left my family home and moved to Gdansk, seeking a fresh
start far from familiar faces. University life at the chemistry department marked the
beginning of my partying phase. I began exploring my body, my sexuality, and my
desires—just a prelude to the deeper self-discovery that lay ahead.

Over the years, I moved over 20 times, lived in five cities, studied in six different
fields. My identity evolved from a rebellious guy with a mohawk and facial
piercings to an emo persona with long black hair and self-inflicted scars, to a bald
man with tattoos, fully aware of his sexuality and desires.

People often see me as open and experimental, but it took years to become this
person. Initially, I thought I was straight, then gay. Eventually, I embraced my
bisexuality, leaning more towards gay life. My partner, who complements me
perfectly, is my safe haven. I’m the planner and the spontaneous one; he’s the
chaotic and cute one who makes me more relaxed.

My modelling aspirations began early, with my first girlfriend taking amateur shots
when I was 16. Those photos seem amusingly naive now. My first professional
shoot, however, was done by my boyfriend’s talented friend, RagingLung. Since
then, I’ve had about seven photo sessions, with more lined up. Each shoot begins
with awkwardness but gradually becomes more comfortable, a process of learning
to be yourself in front of the camera.

Modeling for erotic or sexual sessions is distinct from standard photoshoots. You
must accept that every part of your body will be captured. Embracing sexual
openness helps immensely in this field. At 32, I am well-versed in my sexual
preferences and kinks. Ten years ago, I was too shy to discuss my sexual role.
Now, I can fully admit that I like to fuck a man’s ass and also enjoy pussy. I go
crazy when I’m being rimmed. I love when someone kisses and licks every part of
my body. I adore sensual touch, as well as wild and rough sex.

I am unafraid to talk about my sexual and erotic expressions, challenging the
lingering taboos around sex. I am an experimenter, always eager to try new things,
new kinks, and create new memories. I have my boundaries, but I strive to avoid
self-imposed limits.

I am the guy who unabashedly takes off his clothes on stage at the club, reveling in
showing my body and feeling attractive. I might send you a provocative picture to
get your attention or invite you to some fun. I’m Tom, embracing my era of
liberation, because life is too short to limit the sky.

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