Prologue
Set in Los Angeles, California, at the present time, this is a story about a young gay American named Tyler Blaze, who. is a very active gay, narcissistic young man, an exhibitionist at heart, who earns his living in an up-market gay nightclub in Beverly Hills, by publicly exploiting his beautifully muscled body and the exceptional, sexual endowment between his legs. As his body is of prime interest to the story and as I, as author, have only words to describe this imaginary stud – and make no mistake, Tyler Blaze really is an exceptional, physically superb, virile hunk – I thought that it would put flesh on the bare bones of my words, so to speak, if I were to give the reader visual reference to someone, whom I thought might be a role model for Tyler, as I envisage him in my mind’s eye.
One photo, it is said, is worth a thousand words; however, I regret to say that I have been singularly unsuccessful in searching the myriad of porn sites on the web to come up with one image of a single stud, who measures up to my ideal visualisation of Tyler Blaze, as I imagine his to be. I have therefore been reduced to a cut and paste approach in assembling virtually, what I consider to be a visually suitable role model for him.
My problem stems from the fact that Tyler Blaze, as I envisage him, combines a symmetrical, exquisitely proportioned, fine muscular body with what I can but describe as humdinger, George Washington Monument of a cock. These two attributes seem not very often to go hand-in-hand in one person. Either the guy has a perfect body and a normal sized dick; or he has a humongous piece of man-meat dangling between the legs of a not too exciting body. And there are many men, who fall into this latter category, but who, nevertheless, exhibit themselves naked on numerous porn sites, in the mistaken belief that cock size is everything. But the perfect role model for Tyler Blaze, as I see him, with a symmetrical muscular body and a cock which transcends belief, seems as rare as a hen’s teeth.
“Easy-peasy,” I already hear critical voices saying, “He didn’t look far enough, long enough, or deeply enough.” But believe me, I have looked extensively and found every potential, lone model wanting. So I am afraid, Dear Reader, you will have to lump it and make do with my composite offering, which is still lacking perfection in one important detail, to which I will come later.
To being with, I suggest you visit this page:
This is a site dedicated to a now retired Hungarian porn actor, Kris (not Chris!) Evans, who was, for several years, the absolute star model of the famous BelAmi, East European gay porn site, before going off and becoming a leading Hungarian bodybuilder under his real name, Csaba Szigeti. The full-screen image #5, which appears automatically on the screen, is exactly how I envisage Tyler Blaze to look, EXCEPT for his cock. If you flick through the images, you will see that Kris Evans was, even then, a quite exceptional young man.
I can already hear someone saying: “What’s wrong with his cock? Surely it is big enough!” Well the short answer is yes it is big enough for most purposes, but it is simply not big enough for the Tyler Blaze of my imagination. To quote a famous line by Oscar Wilde; “Enough is as good as a meal; it’s a surfeit that makes a feast” And that is how I envisage Tyler Blaze to be: a young man whose muscular appearance in general and whose cock more specifically, are truly a feast for the eyes.
You will see what I mean about cock size and the importance of balance between length and circumference, when you visit my second reference here.
This is a site dedicated to guys with relatively uninteresting bodies – so many porn stars have relatively ordinary bodies, but possess absolute monster sexual endowments. Play the first video-clip, which is on the screen, to reveal this guy’s magnificently massive, flaccid fuck-stick, the like of which I imagine the un-aroused Tyler Blaze sporting.
The man in the video clip is Canadian porn-star, Yan Devo, who, under the name of Bo Sinn, which is, to my ears, as totally unattractive sounding as is visually, his over-inked body to my eyes. But, as ever, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and he obviously has a following, and there is no accounting for taste. I gather that he is generally considered the bad-boy of Canadian porn. However it is not for his ghastly, over-inked body that I have selected him as a partial role model for Tyler Blaze, but for his totally amazing cock, which, I think you must agree, is both impressively gobsmacking and, also, potentially, gob and anus filling. The keen observer will note that even this, his most precious possession, has not escaped the tattooist’s needle.
This guy really does have an incredibly impressive penis, which when shown flaccid as it is here, combines length – ten inches in the photo – with commensurate girth and is held over a pair of balls, held tight to his body. It has what is rare, in that at even at rest and floppy as it is here, it makes its aggressive presence felt.
I imagine this massive penis on the body of Kris Evans, which gives you a clear idea of the role model for Tyler Blaze that I wish to convey to you visually: a perfect body and an almost unbelievable, ginormous penis.
But both Kris Evans’s own cock and the replacement, furnished courtesy of Bo Sinn, lack perfection in one important detail: neither cock is circumcised. And as we shall see a cut cock, displaying a clear head, free of all foreskin, is a sine qua non for anyone in the USA contemplating a career dependent on displaying or using his penis in public. However, as we shall later see, Tyler Blaze, who as we first meet him, is uncircumcised, has no problem in kissing his foreskin goodbye when this inconvenient problem rears its ugly head.
With this imaginary image of our hero: a young man with an exquisitely muscled body and a cock to die for, we can now move on to this extraordinary story, which is told by Tyler Blaze himself.
Hi everyone! First let me introduce myself: my name is Tyler Blaze> well perhaps I should say that that is my professional name, Hi everyone! First let me introduce myself; my name is Tyler Blaze; well perhaps I should say that is my professional name; I am, at present, a stage performer in a gay live-sex show in Los Angeles, usually referred to as LA.
My true name on my birth certificate is a much less exotic: Herbert Smith: but I refer to myself as Tyler Blaze, or just Tyler, throughout this story, even though I did not adopt the pseudonym until I got my first job as a male performer in a Club in LA.
My parents never gave me second name, which is an inconvenience in the USA, where everyone automatically signs himself with his full first name, the initial of his second name, followed by his last name. So from an early age at school I felt seriously deprived, being obliged to sign myself as Herbert Smith, which I thought was a nondescript name anyway.
But there is an additional problem posed by the lack of a second name, in the USA. All official forms seem to require you to state your first name, what is referred to as your middle initial and your last name. As I do not have a second name, I do not have that apparently all important, middle initial, differentiating me from all the other Herbert Smiths in the USA. This clearly irritated the pen-pushers when checking that I had completed whatever the form, correctly; they officiously, to a man, added NMI – No Middle Initial, where my middle initial should have been.
I began thinking of myself as Herbert NMI Smith. When I was about ten or eleven years old, I recall receiving a paddling on my bare bum from the principal of my school, in the town of Bakersfield in the Central Valley in California, where I was born and lived, for inscribing my name as Herbert N. M. I. Smith on the front of all my exercise books. I had assiduously inserted a point after each letter of NMI as if each was the first letter of a name. I fancifully thought of myself as the rather grand sounding Herbert Nicholas Marcus Ignatius Smith, which was of little consolation to my very sore paddle bottom.
Before we get down to the nitty-gritty of what I do for a living, let me first tell you something about myself. I was born in the year 2000 in the town of Bakersfield in the south of California’s Central Valley, which is huge and is perhaps the major horticultural region – truck-farming as we American’s call it – in the USA. Bakersfield has, however, two strings to its bow; it is both an important oil producer as well as growing horticultural produce. I had the misfortune to be the only son – the only child, in fact – of the Reverend William Clarence Smith, one of those Bible banging, American preachers, who was a minister in one of those fundamentalist churches, belovèd by Americans, which are offshoots of mainstream Christianity.
I am not sure, having read again what I have just written, whether my greater misfortune was to have been an only child, named Herbert, or to have been born to a father, who was an ingrained reactionary to all aspects of modern life as most folks know it today; a man who ran his life and that of his small family, (my mother and me) according to the tenets of what he referred as The Good Book. Let me just say that, by the age of ten, I did not like my father one bit: a dislike which increased with each passing year so much, that by the time I was forced by him to leave home, aged just eighteen, I absolutely hated the man.
Like many religious fanatics he believed in what he called the mortification of the flesh – mainly mine – and was never slow to take an old razor strop, which he had found somewhere – he used a safety razor himself – to my bare bum for the slightest offence, both real and imaginary; and boy oh boy, did he know how to wield that thick black belt. Having been born at the start of the twenty-first century, I received an upbringing, reminiscent of late Victorian times, over a century earlier. I often went to bed with a bum which felt as though it had been assaulted by my super-zealous father with a red-hot poker.
As do most American children, I attended the local school. I was not a particularly bright boy, but I loved and excelled at all sports and gymnastics. By the time I moved, aged fourteen, into junior high, I already knew that I was what I thought of as a gay-in-waiting; I had eyes only for other boys and I knew that was just a question of time before I succumbed to my natural libido and had sex with another lad. Sex was never mentioned at home and at school I had had no sexual instruction other than the usual heterosexual; but I knew instinctively that I wanted to stick my cock up some other lad’s ass and have the same done to me.
I was blessed by nature with a body, which as I later learned was classified as mesomorphic, which enabled me, due to my love of sport and exercise of all kinds, to build an attractive looking muscular framework free from superfluous fat. But my most amazing physical development started when I was in senior high, from about the age of fifteen. My cock, which had always been quite big for my age, suddenly started to grow at an amazing rate. By the time I left school, aged eighteen, I was just over six feet tall and was the proud possessor of a piece of man-meat, which when soft measured slightly more than nine inches in length, but which when ready for action, as it ever more frequently became, measured almost a foot.
As you might imagine, at school in the showers after games, I was the butt of many ribald comments about the growing size of my dick. These were, in the main amusing and were provoked by of a combination of jealousy and admiration at the size of my endowment. Typical of the comments I received in the showers is one which is only mildly obscene and is worth repeating: “Hey, Bert, be careful you do not trip over your dick and do yourself an injury.”
When I was just sixteen, I lost my anal virginity to a guy named Wayne, who was a grade above me at school. He and I had been eying each other for quite a while and that particular day, after basket ball practice, we dawdled in the showers until we were alone. He suddenly pounced on me and I had my first experience of feeling a guy’s rock-hard dick up my ass. I did not resist him, as I had wanted for several months to have my first experience of sex, which had come to dominate my thoughts at that time. Although it hurt quite a bit that first time, I nevertheless enjoyed it and knew immediately that it was what life held in store for me.
After that first time in the showers, Wayne, and I quickly became best buddies and regular sex partners. He turned out to be as queer as a coot and became my mentor in all aspects of gay sex. In me he had found an ideal partner: someone who was willing to learn as much as he was willing to teach; and boy oh boy, he was willing! His parents were truck farmers and were both out in the fields until early evening. Several times a week, after-school, which finished at three thirty, we went back to his place, where we fucked in the comfort of his bed.
When I say we fucked; the first few times we were together, he fucked me. For my sins, or better put, in spite of them, for in my father’s eyes, had he known what I was doing, I would surely qualified as a sinner, I enjoyed every moment of Wayne buggering my ass. I knew then that I had found my sexual vocation in life and that my fixation on other males was not just a passing fancy: it was my future.
After about two weeks of being buggered by Wayne, one afternoon I became as horny as hell myself as I felt my cock crying out for some action itself. So I flipped Wayne over onto his stomach sank my rigid, by that time, already ten-inch-long boner into his ass. From then on, for the next two years, we fucked each other as equals.
Oh, I quite forgot to mention, that in addition to fucking me, Wayne also initiated me into the joys of oral sex, which he told me was politely known, in as much as cock sucking could ever be considered a polite pastime, as fellatio. And as we took every opportunity available to us, we fucked and sucked a lot! In addition to Wayne, several of my class-mates, who saw me naked in the showers after games, came on to me and became occasional sex partners. So once I was over that first hurdle of losing my virginity, I never lacked for a fuck.
Our joint sex life came to a sudden end, when Wayne, who was one year older than me, left school and went off to college. The break was not difficult for me. In the two years Wayne and I had been together, it had been out of sheer lust for each other. There was no love in our relationship; we had both used the other’s body as a convenience to exercise our burgeoning libidos; and we both knew it.
The break left me physically high and dry, as Wayne was the only guy with whom I had ever had sex regularly. But, emotionally, I felt nothing at the break. However, physically, I knew that after two years of regular copulation, I would have to find a replacement for Wayne. I had become so accustomed to regular sex that aged just eighteen, as I entered my last year at school, I could no longer do without it.
I should tell you that during my sixteenth and seventeenth years, the two years that I was with Wayne, my body filled out from that of a young adolescent into that of a muscular, well-proportioned young man. During those two years, my most precious appendage between my legs, which Wayne had always referred to as my fuck-stick, which I suppose, given the nature of our relationship, was what he considered it to be, just grew and grew. By by the time I was eighteen, it had reached an enormous size; it was the envy of all my school-mates. Even when soft it was an impressive nine-plus inches in length, with appropriate girth. However, when primed and ready for firing, it was an incomparably magnificent, twelve-inch-long, anus stretching, mouth filling monster, both of which activities it indulged in regularly.
Chapter 3
During my final year at school, in spite of the many envious ribald comments made about the size of my dick, I had no difficulty in finding replacements for Wayne. Everyone had heard the rumour that Wayne and I had had something going on between us. He and I had been seen by everyone as an item, which no one had cared to mess with, especially as Wayne was year older and a really big bruiser with a reputation as a bit of a bully. However, when Wayne left to go to College, I was again foot-loose and fancy-free and seen as fair game by all-comers. I found there was plethora of what I can best describe as curiosity anuses, at my disposal, eager to sample what, I was only now beginning to realise, was my quite exceptional cock.
Most of my school-mate postulants for my services, if not congenitally gay as I was – or perhaps I should say, as I then thought I was – were male swingers, who had a very relaxed easy-come, easy-go attitude to sex, prevalent in the twenty-first century. I guess, looking back on it now that is what my relationship with Wayne had been; when we were forced to break-up, neither of shed a tear.
However, very surprisingly, at least to me, was that certain straight guys, who were regular heterosexuals, several of whom were fucking certain female members of our class, who were man-mad and who were ready to spread their legs for any guy at the drop of a hat, were also inquisitive to widen their sexual horizon.
Thus, in principle, I had no difficulty in satisfying my own libido. The problem was where were all these sex acts to take place? I knew I personally needed sex on a regular basis, as two years with Wayne had made me an addict. He and I had had our first encounter encounter in the showers at school. After that, thanks to his parents’ absence from their house until early evening, we had been able to enjoy sex together in the comfort of his bed. But now the situation had changed radically as I had no permanent partner, which I initially saw as a good thing as I wanted to widen my sexual horizons by having sex with a series of different guys. And so I was reduced from having a more or less stable partner to snatching a fuck wherever and whenever and with whomever I could.
However, as the year progressed, I realised more and more how I had appreciated having Wayne always available. It suddenly hit me, aged only seventeen, that what what I wanted was, if not a home-life, then at least a regular sex partner on whom I could rely to satisfy my well nigh insatiable libido. The fact that Wayne and I had not been in love, nor had ever even spoken of it in the two years we were consorting together did not seem to matter, as I missed having sex with him dreadfully.
It was his desire for permanence in my sex-life, which led to my downfall and my leaving home forever. Intent on replacing Wayne, I started seeing one of my class-mates, a guy named name Seth Floyd, who was obviously gay, on a regular basis. Very occasionally, my parents would be away from the house for the day and Seth and I profited from their absence to make hay while the sun was shining. One day, thinking my parents were away from the day, I was on top of Seth in my bed, fucking his ass like it was going out of style, when suddenly my father burst into room and caught us in the act. To say that the shit hit the fan with a vengeance is putting it mildly. I should point out that I had just reached my majority of eighteen at the time and could do what I liked without my father’s permission. However, I did understand his anger that what we were doing under his roof offended him.
As neither of my parents had had the slightest inkling that their only son was a practising homosexual and had been for well over two years, finding me in bed with another young man was a terrible shock to both of them. My bible punching, hyper-reactionary father hit the roof in his anger. He could not bear to think that his only son was having sex with another man, which went against everything he stood for and had ever tried to teach me – unsuccessfully as it turned out.
He had no understanding of human nature to think, as he fervently did, that by waving the Bible under my nose, he could change my sexual orientation. My poor father was pissing in the wind, but alas, did not know it. In an era where what had hitherto been thought of as abnormal sexual behaviour , which in my father’s eyes was all sex indulged in other than strictly for reproductive purposes, was becoming more acceptable to most people, he was stuck in a time warp.
He called me – and, by implication, also Seth – a sodomite, a bugger, a homosexual, a sexual pervert and many other derogatory names I have now forgotten. On and on he railed with his ever more bitter remarks, until he finally arrived almost apoplectic, at what I can but describe as his Get thee behind me Satan – Never again darken my doorstep, moment. H told me to leave his house and never come back. So much for Christian charity!
If he had thought I would beg his forgiveness for what he saw as my sins, he was very much mistaken. As I have already said, I hated the man, who was my natural father, in a way in which I hated no one else I had ever met. His harangue and edict was the final straw and a week later I packed my few things and left forever the house where I had lived all my life to date. My mother, as I imagine mothers inevitably do when they see their only son about to leave home after an argument, tried to pour oil on troubled waters, saying that my father did not mean what he had said and that he would eventually come to accept me for what I was.
But I was not to be persuaded by her; she was wasting her breath as I saw hell freezing over, before my father accepted that his only son was a practising homosexual. He just was incapable of tolerating that his own flesh and blood was made that way and that neither he nor anyone else could change that fact. So aged just eighteen, before my final term at senior high school ended, without any qualifications in the form of a high school diploma, I bade farewell to my school mates, especially to Seth Floyd, to whom I had become very close; as close as two men could ever get to each other and let home without a clue what I was going to do, but exhilarate by the freedom I felt to be myself and make a success or disaster of my life.
I had, for the past two years been working on Friday afternoons and evenings, and all day Saturday, until eight in the evening, filling shelves at a local supermarket to earn a bit of pocket money for myself, as my father, in addition to his other charming qualities, was, putting it mildly, a stingy old bastard. I had fortunately been frugal with my earning, spending little on myself and had accumulated, over the past two years, just short of $1000-, which I had kept in a tin box in my bedroom. Thus when I left home with my few clothes in a rucksack, I was not completely broke and could at least survive for a few days. I comforted myself with the belief, as did Mr. Wilkins Micawber, in Charles Dickens’s story, David Copperfield, which we had just recently been studying at school that: something would turn up.
I should just tell you something I became aware of about myself during my final year at school; I was a narcissist. More and more often, I found myself surreptitiously admiring my own naked body in a full length mirror inside the door of an old-fashioned wardrobe in my parents’ bedroom. I was amazed and delighted to see my cock develop; it just grew and grew, until, by the time I left school aged eighteen, I had the most exceptionally magnificent piece of man-meat between my legs which made my classmates green with envy.
I mentioned earlier that I was interested in athletics and participated vigorously in all sports and I discovered that I enjoyed flaunting my muscular figure, especially my enormous cock, of which I had become very quickly inordinately proud, in front of my class-mates in the shower. In short, I discovered that I was, at heart, an out-and-out exhibitionist, who revelled in showing off his physique to all and sundry. Couple this with the fact that I was generally considered by my peers as the greatest gay stud since the invention of sliced bread and you can easily see that when I left home and a father, whom I heartily hated, I was, nevertheless, on a personal high. Although with no school diploma and no prospect of going on to college, with no any idea at all of what I would do to earn a living, even on the horizon, I was utterly gung ho that I was finally free of my father.
Without a clue what I would do when I arrived there and never having been to Los Angeles. I decided to chance my luck in the second biggest city in the USA, which was only about 115 miles, or a two hour drive from Bakersfield. I had no car; in fact, I did not even have a driving licence. So on the day I left home, I was walking to the bus station in Bakersfield from where there is a regular bus service down Highway 5 to Los Angeles, when a car drew up beside me and the driver, a young man not much older than me, lowered the window and said: “Hi there! Can I give you a lift somewhere with that heavy rucksack you have on our back?”
When I explained to him that I was just walking to the bus station to get the bus to LA, he said: “Well you’re in luck; I guess we both are. That’s exactly where I’m going myself. Dump your stuff in the trunk and jump in as I’d be glad to have someone to talk to, on what is a boring two hour drive when you are alone.” That is how I met the young guy, called Callum Bent – a most apposite name, as I soon discovered – with whom, that very evening, I found myself shacked up in his apartment in LA.
Well as you have probably already guessed, I had, completely by chance, been picked up by a young guy, who turned out to be, like me, as gay as a coot and who, as I discovered later, was at least as experienced in gay sex as I was myself. Let’s face it, after two years with Wayne and my final year at school, during which I had regular sex with Seth Floyd and any of my classmates who were willing, as many were, As and eighteen year-old, with a considerable number of conquest under my belt, with the arrogance of youth, I felt that there was not much more still had to learn about the does and don’ts of sex with other men. How big-headedly wrong. I was soon to be proved to be!
When I was settled in the passenger seat of the car, we eyed each other discreetly. My heart almost jumped for joy, when I saw my companion was wearing sexily cut jeans, which were tight-fitting in the crotch, to make the most of what was, at first sight, to anyone of my sexual persuasion and experience, a very attractive, sizeable package. Some of my class-mates, who had not been shy to show off their sexual assets, had taken to wearing tight fitting underwear, with a view to creating a visually silhouette of their kit. However, I. with my huge cock, had preferred to wear loose fitting boxer shorts, which allowed my enormous appendage to dangle freely alongside my left leg. It was not that I was ashamed of my size, but, ever conscious of the importance of the visual aesthetic appeal of the male body; I thought that to make an overt feature of my own exceptional endowment would be a mistake. The appreciative eye would always be able to discern my sizeable appendage, descending discreetly, slapping the inside of my leg.
As you may well have guessed, having quickly established that we were both cut from the same bolt of cloth – it takes one to know one – by the time we arrived in LA, we had more or less exchanged details of our recent sex lives. Cal had learned that he had picked up a sexually, highly-experienced, eighteen-year old gay, without even a high-school diploma to his name, who after a bust-up with his father, who could not accept to live with a son who was gay, had decided to try his luck at finding a job in LA.
I saw that Cal was an attractive, twenty year-old man, whom I had liked on first sight and who, learned, was, what is known in the trade, a soft-porn worker: someone who exhibits his or her sexual credentials suggestively to the public, but does not actually perform any sex act. It turned out that Cal was a male stripper in a very expensive and very exclusive LA night club, patronised only by those very wealthy individuals of the so-called great and the good of LA, with pruriently degenerate, perverted, minds, of whom, according to Cal, there were, apparently, enough to support any number of similar strip joints.
He lived alone in a small apartment, which he rented; and like me, he was not seriously involved with anyone at the moment. He told me that hitherto, he had preferred to remain free of permanent entanglements for the time being, to be able to indulge himself to the full, with any guy he met, who reciprocated his fancy. “But,” he concluded, “I suppose that eventually I will settle down with the love of my life, whom I have yet to meet.”
Once he learned that I was jobless and homeless and had come speculatively to LA, clearly liking what he saw, he immediately suggested that I move in with him for a few days. “It will give you breathing space to find a job, and get a place of our own,” he said. Needless to say, two years later I am still living with Cal, although thanks mainly to me and my substantial earnings, we have been able to move to a bigger and better apartment than the one where he was living the day we first met.
I don’t think that either of us was under any illusion what his offer really meant. He and I, in spite of my youth, were both highly experienced, gay, young men. I suppose we had both known, if not quite from the moment he picked me up in Bakersfield, that we wanted to have sex with each other. Speaking as a homosexual, for me, sexual attraction is like that. I suddenly knew that I wanted to have sex with the man whom I had just met. Cal confirmed later that night, when we were in bed together having slaked our mutual thirst for sex on each other, that the reason he had offered me lift in Bakersfield, was that he knew that on first sight that he wanted me. But I am getting ahead of myself, as we are not yet there.
As we approached LA city limits and entered Los Angeles County, we left the highway and drove for several miles along city streets. LA is a great sprawling conurbation, made up of numerous small townships, some of which are within the city limits of LA, and some of which like Beverly Hills, where Cal worked, are independent, but are considered as part of LA. Cal worked in possibly the richest community town in LA County, Beverly Hills, populated by multi-millionaires with money to burn; and fortunately, for people like Cal, burn in they did. However, he himself did not live in Beverly Hills but in a much less famous and poorer neighbourhood.
Of course, I had accepted Cal’s offer of accommodation for a few days. It was like gift from on high to me, which saved me from having to find a cheap bed for the night and promised much more than a place to sleep. His place consisted of a small, two room apartment with a shower room. The kitchen was part of the living room and the bedroom contained just one double bed. Cal suggested that I could sleep on the couch in the living room; but I saw from the lustful look in his eyes, hat there was not a snowball’s chance in hell of that ever happening.
As I was already feeling as horny as hell towards Cal; so to progress things and get my clothes off, I asked him if could take a shower, hoping against hope that he would join me there. Even when two confirmed gays like Cal and me, both want that same unspoken thing, which I was a sure as anyone ever can be that he did as much as I, there is always the slight difficulty of that first step, which one partner has to fire the first shot to get the relationship up and running . Discarding only my shoes, I coyly went fully clothed into the bathroom, took off my clothes and stepped into the capacious shower. I had anticipated that Cal would join me and that we would initiate our sexual contact there. I was not disappointed; but I was surprised, not to mention delighted, by what happened next.
I was facing the shower head with my back to the bathroom door, soaping myself up, when I suddenly felt my hips gripped firmly from behind by two hands. This was followed, more or less instantaneously, by the moist tip of a circumcised cockhead thrust firmly against my anus. My anal sphincters instinctively tightened instantly with that automatic reflex to repel all borders, which is always there, even when the bottom partner is willing, which I then most certainly was.
But even if I had wanted to, which I of course did not, I could not have prevented what I knew was about to happen to me, as Cal was obviously one of those guys, who did not let grass grow under his feet, when his mind was made up to do something. Thus, before I knew it, his rock-hard fuck-stick made short shrift of my anal sphincter resistance and he slid his full-length smoothly into my rectum, bottoming his pelvis against my ass.
From my considerable previous experience with Wayne, I recognised immediately I felt his massive boner slide professionally inside me, that I was in the hands of an experienced anal copulator; I knew, sight unseen, from the way he had penetrated me so smoothly, that the sizeable cock, which I now had inside me, had been pre-lubricated. His professionalism was confirmed as he began the reciprocating, thrusting and withdrawal movements, which are the quintessential gestures of all copulation. But even here he showed his dedication to purpose, making each thrust practically of the full length of his cock. He started off very gently fucking me, with soft languid strokes, which he he gradually built up in speed and force as he moved towards his goal, which I initially thought was for him to climax inside me and leave me with a souvenir of his semen of our first sex act together.
However I had seriously underestimated his intentions; at one moment I was convinced that by his efforts he was near to climaxing; but I was proved wrong, as he continued fucking me, battering my hole with ever increasing speed and strength, until I could stand the build up no longer and cried out the first words uttered by either of us since Cal had entered the shower and penetrated me: “Cal, please, please, stop, I cannot stand it any longer! Please, please, Cal, just stop!”
I should have known better, than to think I could stop any man in the throes of sexual arousal when he is approaching his climax; come what may, he just cannot stop himself. But what happened next I had never before experienced, nor even thought possible Hearing my pleas, Cal had recognised, better than I had myself, that I was on the edge of achieving the orgasm, which he had all along, unbeknown to me, been attempting to induce in me. He finally withdrew his cock completely, before thrusting its full length back into my anus and unleashing in both of us simultaneously that incredibly fleeting, exquisite sensation called orgasm, which is – or should be – the ultimate goal of all sexual acts.
For a few brief seconds we shared that exquisite moment of nirvana, as we climaxed together and shot our loads of semen, in great ejaculative spurts; mine into the water still running in the shower; his deep into my rectum, where it remained for some time as a transient souvenir of our first time together. I can honestly say that, at that moment, I had just had the best and most exhilarating sexual experience of my life. And there was I, thinking egotistically that I had nothing more to learn about sex!
I can tell you that I was overjoyed to have, completely by chance met a gay stud, who had taken me to sexual heights, which I had never even dreamed of. How could I not like the guy, who had just fucked me silly, and who, in fact, still had his cock embedded deep inside me. He had shown me sex in a way that I had never known existed until now. Additionally, he also had given me a bed for my first night in LA. With some justification, I felt that God, in whom I did not believe, in spite of my father’s death and damnations curses, was on my side at the moment.
Chapter 5
I will not have escaped the attentive reader that Cal and I had, so far, never seen each other naked. He had taken me in the shower and had been behind me when he penetrated me, so he had not seen my exceptionally large endowment, which had as yet not been called into service. I had no idea what Cal looked like naked, as he had fucked me in the shower, standing there with my back to him. So although I had never seen his man-meat, which he had shared with me, I knew that I had been penetrated and had enjoyed immensely being fucked by a sizeable and extremely proficient weapon; but I had no idea of what Cal or his fuck-stick looked like.
Cal had obviously enjoyed taking me as much as I had enjoyed being taken by him. After we had shot our loads, we remained as if one, united by Cal’s fuck-stick embedded deeply inside of me, under the running water of the shower, enjoying the afterglow of our first, very successful union. Eventually Cal reached around me, and turned off the shower. He withdrew his by now flagging penis from me, tossed a towel over my shoulders and said: “Well I suppose we had better dry off, get dressed and go a find something to eat somewhere. After all that effort, I could eat a horse! I then still had my back to him, facing the shower head, in exactly the same position, in which he had taken me.”
Cal now turned around and stepped from the shower into the bathroom, towelling himself off and I followed him. When he saw he saw me, for the first time ever, in all my naked full frontal glory, I thought at first, from the look of bemused shock on his face, that he was going to faint. He could not believe his eyes at what he was seeing. I knew that I had a beautiful body and that I possessed a phenomenal cock. Aged just eighteen at the time I guess, my cock had grown to more or less its full size. So what Cal saw was, with a now flaccid nine/ten-inch long, well-proportioned penis, descending in a parabolic curve over a pair of balls, which were held close to the body of a well-muscled young stud. False modesty be damned, I knew that I looked absolutely stunning, as I always did when naked. So you can well understand that he was flabbergasted when he realised what a physically exceptional guy he had, that very day, picked up in Bakersfield
Cal’s eyes took in my entire body but finally came to rest on my kit. He said: “Jesus wept; where the fuck did you get that lot from?”
Quick as a flash, I replied, laughingly: “Jesus wept – that’s from the New Testament by the way – John, Chapter 11: Verse 35: the shortest verse in the Bible. Remember, Cal, I told you my father was a minister; that’s how I know such quotations. But I doubt that Jesus would have wept at the sight of me naked. Quite the contrary; in fact, I would have thought he might have rejoiced at the sight of such a well-equipped, young man.”
“Well, Tyler, you certainly know how to blow your own trumpet. I was just commenting on your magnificent kit of tools; that’s all. So get yourself dressed, for alluring though you are naked, even here in LA, you cannot go out like that, unless you want to have yourself arrested for indecency. When we get back here, you can show me if you really know how to use your magnificent tool on somebody else; my body will be yours to do with as you please; I can hardly wait. But; but first we need to eat to hold body and soul together before we again attempt to trip the light fantastic. Come on, young man, move your ass; we’re wasting precious time when we could be fucking!”
We wolfed down a quick hamburger in a local fast-food restaurant and went back to Cal’s place, where we both, without a word stripped off completely and stood admiring each other. In spite of his sterling service, just an hour or so earlier Cal’s cock was already hardening for more action; I saw, as I had thought when he had shafted me, that it was a good size and that he had nothing to be ashamed of; and as I had just experienced, he also knew how to use his equipment to give his partner a good time. However he was now more interested in exploring my endowment. Before I could stop him, he had dropped to his knees and was sucking my dick to an erection. This was really the most attention any guy had ever paid to my penis and I was in absolute seventh heaven.
Within two minutes, thanks to Cal’s expertise, my penis had transformed itself from a flaccid, but nevertheless impressive, rubbery nine inches, into a massive rock-hard fuck-stick, measuring an almost inconceivable twelve inches in length. As I looked down on my proudest possession; my almost implausible erection, I asked myself why nature had been so generous with me. If I had been told that some guy had a twelve inch boner, I would have said: “No way.” But here I was confronted with the living proof in the form of my own penis that such exceptional sexual endowments do exist. But I also noticed for the first time, perhaps because my cannon was so engorged and ready for action, that my foreskin – I was uncut – was stretched to the limit of tightness over my huge cock-head, the tip of which was exposed.
But I was not alone in admiring my tool. Cal was almost salivating at the thought of bottoming for me and allowing me to fuck him as he had just done for me, which was what he told me he wanted me now to do to him. He told me that I had the biggest cock he had ever seen, which was probably true – my own cock was the biggest penis I had ever seen myself – and that he desperately wanted to experience being fucked by it. However, for such an obviously experience guy he was honest enough to admit that he felt scared at the possibility of not being able to take my full length and that the whole thing between ns could turn into a fiasco, with him chickening out with fear.
I pointed out to Cal that he would not be the first guy, whom I had fucked and that none of my partners to date had had a problem with taking taking my full length, which at first sight, though impressive, was, to say the least, somewhat daunting. I guess my most earnest wish at that very moment was to fuck Cal, whom I found a super-attractive prospect, now that I was looking at him unashamedly naked. Fearing that he might think again about allowing me to fuck him and back out due to fear of the unknown, I neglected to tell him that the guys whom I had fucked were all my school-mates, who had grown accustomed to having sex with me since I was sixteen years old, when Wayne had first stolen my anal virginity and introduced me to gay sex, to which I had quickly become addicted.
I saw quite clearly that all my sex-partners to date had grown up with me and my cock since the age of sixteen, when I had seriously begun my sex life. Although at sixteen I had had the biggest cock around, it had been nowhere near the Washington Monument of a fuck-stick with which Cal was now faced. However, I told myself that once he had overcome his initial fear, which I saw was very real, everything would be alright. Once I had bottomed my cock inside him, I knew that with my long strokes, I could give him one of the greatest fucks he had ever had. At that moment, I wanted him so badly myself, that had he refused, I could not have stopped myself attempting to take him by force; raping him, which was, strictly speaking, what he had done to me in the shower.
Happily Cal did not refuse and, as things worked out, I was proved right. Once Cal had overcome his initial fears and my mighty piece of hard man-meat was inside him, things went well. And, if I was not able to do for him what, just a few hours ago, he had done for me, I am happy to say that he was well satisfied. But I see I am getting ahead of myself, in my story, for I had still not penetrated Cal. So, bear with a perennially disorganised writer as he back-tracks somewhat.
I prepared to penetrate Cal, who had indicated by lying on his back on his bed, spreading his legs and bending his knees that he wished me to take him in what I was later to learn was referred to as a modified mission position, one of a number of juxtapositions in which the protagonists have sex facing each other. I suddenly remembered the silky-smooth way in which Cal had slid his not inconsiderable tool inside me in the shower. I had long known that, as the male rectum is not intended by nature for the purpose for which it is used in gay sex, it does not automatically lubricate when used, as it frequently is, as an ersatz female vagina.
Wayne, my first sex partner, had been much savvier about the mechanics of sex than me. When he had initiated me into the pleasures of anal sex, he had insisted that the active cock of the moment should always be lubricated prior to penetration of his partner’s anus. In his sexual catechism, this was the Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not bugger thy partner with an unlubricated cock.
Not having known that on my arrival in LA I would find myself so immediately plunged into such deep and potentially satisfying sexual activity, for which I was completely unprepared, I had not given any thought to the accessories of gay sex, such as condoms and, most importantly, lubricants, When I had packed my bags, my only concern had been to get the hell out of my father’s house forever, where was I no longer welcome. But I had been impressed by the silky-smooth way in which Cal had, in one swift, unhesitating thrust, slid his sizeable meat inside me.
In spite of his agreement that I should fuck him, now that push had come to shove. I sensed nevertheless a slight residual nervousness in Cal. To relieve Cal of some of his uneasiness, I thought that overt, generous lubrication of my boner would ease, at least somewhat, the fear he had expressed at the thought of a twelve-inch, rock-hard fuck-stick penetrating his anus. As I had no lubricant of my own to hand, I asked him if I could beg, borrow or steal some of the same lubricant that he had himself used before fucking me. From the relieved look on his face, I knew that his fear had stemmed largely from taking the first step and allowing me to penetrate him, with what, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was the biggest erection he had ever seen, let alone taken up his ass. He delightedly not only agreed, as he motioned towards a bedside cupboard, I found a tube labelled:
ANOLUBE
Special lubricant for anal sexual intercourse.
Anolube is a specially formulated lubricant designed to make anal intercourse more comfortable for both partners. Anolube can be used in all acts of anal sex, whether male-male or male-female.
Anolube can also be used for added comfort in acts of male-female vaginal sex. As Anolube is not oil based it can be used in conjunction with latex condoms in normal heterosexual or homosexual intercourse.
It is recommended that the active partner, apply a generous amount of Anolube to his erect to his erect penis before penetrating his passive partner.
I read the instructions rapidly, but before I could apply the product to my boner myself, Cal suddenly sat up, took the tube from my hands and carefully applied a generous amount of the cream to my cock, before resuming his former position on the bed. I noticed that he now seemed completely relaxed and had spread his legs wider than before, exposing his tight anal pucker to give to my marauding penis. It was now as if he was eager to be penetrated. I had no idea for what reason, but all his fears related to the size of my cock had evidently disappeared with his performance of the act of anointing of my cock with oil, which he had managed somehow to transform into a quasi-biblical act of almost religious significance. Now, looking at him
lying there, his whole manner was now silently, but clearly saying: “Go on; fuck me.”
Having received a green light to proceed, I still proceeded with caution, which I quickly learned was a misjudgement on my part as Cal wanted a hard fuck, which he made apparent from the moment the exposed tip of my cock-head touched his anus. I sensed instantly from the resistance to entry which his anal sphincters posed my cock that here was guy, who when he bottomed, knew how to extract absolutely everything from his top partner’s cock. I knew from the moment he a relaxed his anal muscles enough to allow my cock-head to penetrate him, only to grab it again by the rim in a firm grip, that fucking Cal would be hard work. For the first time, I was fucking a guy, who although bottoming, was intent on getting as much from the act as his top partner. I was really going to be made to sing for my supper.
And I was, of course, right. Having penetrated him, with just my cock-head inside of him, Cal maintained the pressure he was exerting on my cock, making the act of sliding my full length into him, hard work. I saw now why he had personally lubricated my cock very well before granting it entry into his vital passage. Without a well lubricated tool, the essential, reciprocating motion, the repeated thrusting and withdrawing of the top’s cock, the sine qua non of the basic sex act, would have been difficult. And my original idea of idea of beginning gently and building up to a climax as I normally did when topping for a partner, was given short shrift, when Cal said to me, as soon as I had given him full length: “Now, Tyler, don’t hold yourself n back; use all your strength, as I want you to give me as hard a fuck as possible.”
So, I did just as he had requested and fucked him as hard as I could from the word go. I gave him the benefit of my enormous length, by withdrawing my 12 inch fuck-stick almost completely on each stroke, before thrusting myself back into his rectum, using the maximum force I could muster. Once I had got used to the constant grip exerted on my cock by Cal, I found that I was enjoying myself fucking him more than I ever had done in over two years of regular sex with various partners, both as top and bottom.
The fact that my shaft was gripped by Cal’s powerful sphincters the whole time had a beneficial, accelerating effect on my search for my own climax. Thanks to the continued pressure exerted by him on my cock, I reached the point of no-return much sooner than I had ever done in the past. When it suddenly came, and I could no longer hold myself back, I shot my load deep inside of Cal, in the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced in my life.
After I had recovered and was again in control of myself, I thought of what Cal had done to me, unleashing an orgasm simultaneously in both of us. I realised that in spite of my superior cock size, I had fallen far short of his performance on me. As I had left him high and dry, so to speak, I, therefore, took up to battering his ass with my cock, as my inability to control my own climax had forced me to leave off. I had decided that, come what may, as a matter personal pride, I would endeavour to take him through to his orgasm. It was very hard work, I can tell you, for I had seriously underestimated how difficult it is for a top to induce an orgasm in his bottom partner just by using his cock.
Until Cal had shown me the light and had, with his cock alone, fucked me through to orgasm, I had never realised that such a tour de force was even achievable by a top simply fucking his bottom partner. I have to admit to my eternal shame that over the past two years, when I had been having sex regularly I did not always mange to bring even myself to orgasm while fucking my partner. The sad truth is that more often than not, I found myself obliged to withdraw my cock and rely on a bit of handwork to achieve completion myself. As for the ultimate fuck, that nec plus ultra of anal copulation, which Cal had given me, when he had brought both of us simultaneously to our individual, explosively ejaculative climaxes, well, I had never even dreamed such was possible.
But I now saw that I, who, because of my huge cock, big-headedly had considered myself as God’s gift to gay sex, had so much to learn. I had not even been aware that an expert top, could, with his cock alone, fuck his bottom partner through to his orgasm. This was was gay sex raised to a level of sophistication, which I never knew existed until now. In the past, when I was topping, both my partner and I had had to rely on jerking off to reach our respective orgasms.
But now, with my cock still embedded deep inside of Cal, I was determined to show him that I had learned something from him, And so, even though I had achieved orgasm myself and left Cal with a positive, albeit temporary souvenir of myself in the form of my semen, instead of withdrawing from him, I now pressed on banging away at his ass as fast as I could, using my maximum strength and my full length at every stroke.
Finally Cal cried out: “That’s it, that’s it; don’t stop now; I am about to cum.” On hearing these encouraging words, I knew that I had succeeded and withdrew my cock completely, before giving him that final thrust, taking him to orgasm and giving him his brief moment of ecstasy. As he climaxed, he pumped out a seemingly endless stream of his own jism, which landed on both of us.
I was delighted with my own performance. Although I had not succeeded in achieving that magic moment, where we both climaxed together simultaneously, I had, for the first time ever, achieved climax for myself inside of my partner. Then instead of resting on the laurels of my personal orgasm, I had gone on and shown him that I cared about him too, by successfully fucking him through to his own orgasm. For the first time ever I had discovered the personal satisfaction resulting from the mutuality of the sex act; I had under my own steam, given myself my own orgasm and had then gone on to give Cal his.
Whether in the role fucked or the fucker, I had, this evening, learned a lesson from Cal by his actions; both partners to the act of anal copulation must be satisfied and that mutual masturbation, jerking off by both partners, which had, hitherto always been the conclusion to every sex act I had ever indulged in, was not necessary; all could be achieved by the top using his cock alone, if he set his mind to it.
I finally withdrew my by now, flagging penis from Cal’s anus and wallowed in the pleasure of lying on top of him, with our bodies cemented together by his semen, as if we were one. It was for me, a magical moment; I realised how fate had smiled on me from the moment Cal had offered me a lift. Lying there against him, I felt differently about Cal than I had ever before felt about any other guy with whom I had had sex. It suddenly hit me that I had already fallen in love with a guy, whom I had only met that morning, But there it was staring me in the face:, I knew, without a doubt that I had fallen for Cal hook, line and sinker.
We lay there for a good hour enjoying the closeness and exploring the intimacies each other’s body, as I always imagined true lovers to do. Our idyll was suddenly broken by Cal who said: “It’s not that I am fed up with your company; indeed quite the contrary. I could stay here in bed with you you until the cows come home. But looking at the time, I need to get a move on and get my ass across to the Club where I work; I’m due on stage in an hour from now. I need to clean up and get myself out of here pronto, otherwise I shall be late for work and deprive my stinking-rich, prurient fans of the pleasure of seeing me strip on stage; and as they pay a small fortune to see me strip and ogle my naked body, that would never do. So I’m afraid it’s farewell for now. I’ll be back at round 2 a.m. In my absence don’t do anything which I wouldn’t do myself, which leaves you free to do practically anything you want.”
Chapter 6
The next thing I knew it was the following morning and I woke up from a long, deep sleep in the same unwashed smelly state of state of stale sex, in which Cal had left me the previous evening. I saw that he was still asleep, lying there by my side, like me, completely naked. I hauled myself to my feet, went into the bathroom took a leak and stepped into the shower to rid myself of the persistent, stale, fishy smell of dried semen on my body.
As I re-entered the bedroom I found Cal standing there, his cannon already primed and ready for action. He certainly knew what he wanted, as he pushed me towards the bed onto which I fell on my back. With his eyes, filled with desire, focused on my cock, he anointed his own rock-hard meat with Anolube cream, which was still standing on the bedside cabinet. He then dropped to his knees on the bed in front of me, immediately hoisted my legs over his shoulders and thrust his boner of a cock unhesitatingly straight into my anus, with and proceeded to fuck as if it was going out of style.
This was certainly the hardest and most exhilarating fuck of my life. It was the absolute antithesis of love making, as Cal was clearly intent on satisfying only his own lust, which the sight of me naked emerging from the shower had obviously aroused to an untenable level. He was giving my ass hell: an act of pure animal lust, which he performed without any care whatsoever for my feelings; this was his moment; his alone.
However, as he battered my ass, using his cock like a power hammer, I found I was enjoying the most unique and exhilarating, hard fuck of my life. I absolutely adored what he was doing to me, even though I could see that he was totally centred on himself. Once he reached his orgasm, as he inevitably would, I sensed that I would be left high and dry to fend for myself, after what was tantamount to being raped. But rape or not, whilst it was happening, I was loving every minute of being used almost as a casual rent-boy by this man, with whom I had already fallen head-over-heels in love.
When the climax finally came, after the most frenzied hammering of my ass imaginable, Cal had just withdrawn himself from me, and was poised with his penis above my anus to deliver his final thrust, that coup de grace, with which he would bring himself to orgasm with his cock buried deep inside me. However, it was not to be; Cal was just so aroused by his efforts that before he could thrust his cock back into my anus, he climaxed, into the thin air above my ass, into a veritable Niagara of semen, which I had fully expected him to deliver deep inside me. I can tell you, given the highly-aroused lustful state into which Cal had worked himself, that he violently ejaculated great quantities of his virile, viscous jism all over my butt and the bed on which I was lying. In a word, he made an incredible sticky mess of both me and the bed: the inevitable, disagreeable aftermath of condomless gay sex.
In the post coital calm following his climax, Cal was almost grovelling in his apology for what he had just done to me. He knew that he had forced himself onto me in his desire to satisfy his own uncontrollable lust aroused by seeing me standing there naked. He was obviously sorry that he had raped me: his very word.
“Tyler, when I saw you coming into the bedroom, I guess I just lost it. As soon as I saw you naked, I wanted to to fuck you. Tyler, I don’t think you realise what a sexy young stud you truly are. You have body in a thousand and a cock in a million. You just exude sex; and I can tell you that there are many men, both gay and straight, who would give their eyeteeth to do what I did to you just now. You, Tyler, are just one hell of a desirable sexy guy. You could have anyone – male or female – you want. Tyler, I truly am very, very sorry for what I have just done to you and beg you to forgive me. I must tell you that I am really glad that I picked you up in Bakersfield yesterday and that, in spite of what has just happened, I hope our new-born friendship will prosper. But if you decide to leave, I will not stand in your way. After what I have just done to you, I would hate to keep you here against your will.”
I listened to Cal’s apology, without telling that I had enjoyed immensely being pounced upon and sort of pseudo-raped. My heart had leapt with relief when I heard him say that he wanted our nascent friendship to continue, which, at that precise moment, was the single thing I most wanted to hear. Cal had shown me a rough side to gay sex, which I had never before experienced. It was anal sex totally new to me, in which the guy, who was topping, was out only to satisfy himself and saw his partner’s ass purely as a piece of warm meat, on which he could vent his all-powerful and uncontrollable lust. It was an everyman for himself style of sex, which I am ashamed to admit I had thoroughly enjoyed, even though it cut squarely across my idealised concept that the sex act should always be for the mutual enjoyment of both partners.
But I saw then that I had been viewing gay sex through a pair of rose coloured glasses. The fact of the matter was that things were not always the way I had thought they were and I had to accept that things were the way they were and that no altruistic, romantic dreaming on my part would change them. Human nature and sexual behaviour were as they had always been; wishing things were different, would change nothing. What had just happened to me had happened; and Cal, in apologising for his behaviour, attempting to pour oil on troubled waters, could not make it un-happen. But, at the end of the day, I admitted to myself that I had enjoyed enormously what Cal had just done to me. He had treated my ass as a punching bag for his dick; an act, for which. I felt he ought to feel ashamed and which he had freely admitted that he was. But I too was equally ashamed of myself, for having liked every minute of what he had just done to me.
Just as Cal, seeing me naked emerging from the shower had found me irresistible, now looking at him in the buff, I found my own sexual arousal had grown just too strong to ignore; I knew, come what may that I wanted to fuck Cal there and then; and not only to fuck him, but fuck him in the same rough way he had just visited on me. My cock, that totally uncontrollable but reliable indicator of sexual arousal, had already automatically girded its loins for battle and was pointing its twelve, rock-hard inches aggressively at Cal, who was smiling anticipatively at me in a way which told me he knew was about to happen.
It is difficult to walk away from one’s shadow and my Bible banging father had left me with a very large religious shadow of does and don’ts, which automatically influenced my thinking in so much of what I did in life. I recalled what was called the Golden Rule, which appears in the testaments of both Matthew and Luke, which is sort of a commandment; it reads: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Based on this homily, to assuage my ever present conscience, I contorted my thinking to convince myself that I was about to do something of which I basically disapproved, but which I knew I knew I could not forego:– namely, indulge in rough sex, verging on rape.
If you think that what I was about to do to Cal, was in accordance with the Golden Rule, then I am afraid you must think again. Trying to find some justification in my upbringing for an action of which I basically disapproved, but which, in spite of my disapproval, I knew I would enjoy, I turned the Golden Rule on its head to read: Do unto others as they have done unto you. You see the implications; to take a simple example: if someone has stolen something from you, you can steal form him with impunity: it’s simply tit for tat. It has nothing at all to do with the Golden Rule, to which I had thought, until now, that I basically subscribed wholeheartedly.
It’s quite amazing how one can brainwash oneself when one really wants something. At that moment, I knew, in spite of my reservations that I not only wanted, but that I intended to take Cal by force and do to him exactly as what he had done to me. Both my cock and my libido were telling me the same thing: that I wanted to fuck Cal really hard. My dilemma was that I knew that I would enjoy hard-fucking Cal, both physically and spiritually, whilst simultaneously disapproving of what I was doing.
I was saved from my moral reservations by Cal himself, who was standing there looking smilingly at me, or rather at my twelve inch boner, which was pointing directly at him, declaring its intentions as clearly as if it could speak. He put me out of my moral quandary by saying: “Go on, Tyler; you know that you want to fuck me; so just go ahead and do it; I can see from your cock, always a reliable barometer of readiness for sex, that you are all psyched up and ready to go. So, just stop communing with your navel or whatever it is you are doing right now and just get on with it. Here just lube up your tool and let’s get down to it. I am getting quite tired of waiting for you to make your move; so now, either shit or get off the pot, before I go off the boil myself.”
He laughed as he handed me the tube of Anolube and then flung himself flat on his back on the bed, spread his legs, invitingly offering me his anus. After such an obvious invitation, how could I refuse? I lubed up my cock, knelt in between his legs, took one over each of my shoulders, and thrust my fuck-stick, already leaking precum in anticipation of the climax, which was to come, violently into Cal’s anus. He had invited me to fuck him, but had he known the brutal vigour which I had every intention of bringing to the act?
Taking a leaf out of his book, I fucked him, like a man possessed by the devil, with the greatest force and speed I could muster, giving him practically the full length of my twelve inches on each stroke. It was hard work, making me sweat, as he maintained his muscular grip with his anal-sphincters on my cock throughout, which led to me coming to the edge of my own climax very rapidly.
How I held back on my own climax, I have no idea; but the fact of the matter is that I did. Holding myself back, only God knows how, for what seemed like forever, I concentrated on brutally battering his ass, until he cried out: “Yes; yes; that’s it Tyler.” At that moment, I gave him the last mighty thrust with my cock, allowing myself finally to climax and dump my load deep inside his rectum, with the full length my cock buried inside of him.
From the shudders which were racking his body, I knew that I had attained the unachievable; I had somehow managed to rough-fuck him through to his orgasm simultaneously with my own. That moment was, for me, the greatest copulative triumph of my entire sex-life to date. By my efforts alone, I had managed to imbue what was my first rough-fuck ever, with that degree of mutual enjoyment which is normally absent from such onslaughts. I had overcome all my earlier personal reservations; At the start, I had rough-fucked Cal without any regard for his feelings, using his body purely as a punch bag, much as he had just done with me, to satisfy my own sexual lust of the moment. But I had shown us both that rough sex, verging on rape, could be a satisfying experience for both top and bottom parties to the act, who could both reach orgasm, which seemed to me to be the essential element of all copulation.
After my moment of triumph, which had been for me, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest and most satisfying experience in my sex-life to date, with my cock still deeply embedded in his rectum I fell on Cal, and embraced him. I could not stop myself from giving him what he must have recognised was the kiss of a lover. To my utter delight, he returned my kiss equally passionately. With our two bodies, united as one, by the unappetising admixture of my sweat and his semen, of which, at his moment of orgasm, he had sprayed a great quantity over both our chests and stomachs, we lay there for half an hour, dozing pleasantly in the aftermath of what, for both of us, had been a revelatory sexual experience.
It had only been 24 hours since Cal had picked me up in Bakersfield; but in those 24 hours I had learned more about gay sex than I had in my life. And I felt – I just knew – that in Cal I had found the love of my life. I could but hope that he felt the same way about me.
Suddenly, quite brusquely, he extricated his body from under mine, pulled himself free of my cock, which he left flapping in the breeze a few moments, before saying: “Come on, Tyler; move your ass and let’s get into the shower together and wash away the sweat and the stickiness and sexy smell of man juice, which always vaguely reminds me of fish.”
As we soaped each other up under the shower, giving ourselves the sensuous pleasure of running our hands down the other’s body. Both our cocks abandoned their flaccidity, perked themselves up anticipating renewed activity, expressing their willingness to continue as before. However neither Cal nor I rose to the challenge, as both of us realised that after two bouts of really rough sex, anything coming now would be an anticlimax to what had been a perfect start to our day. When we left the shower and got dressed for the day, Cal said: “I’ll now show you another string to bow. In addition to being a read-hot cocks-man, a fact which you have tacitly acknowledged by emulating me, I am also also a brilliant cook. So sit yourself down at the table and I will blind you with my culinary prowess by opening a packet of cereal for you.”
Chapter 7
We sat at breakfast: eggs and bacon, which in spite of his flippancy, Cal had
finally made. We indulged ourselves in a mutually self-indulgent, hedonistic round of congratulations, in which we each assured the other that he was God’s gift to gay sex; indeed, quite the best thing since the invention of sliced bread. Cal was especially lavish in his praise of my efforts, in which I had brought him to his orgasm simultaneously with my own; a feat, he claimed, which was only ever achieved by a rare few gifted studs, to which gilded group, according to him, he and I apparently belonged.
Cal said: “Tyler, I don’t know if you realise what superb assets you possess. You have a superb body and easily the biggest cock I had ever seen; not only is it massive, but it is also beautiful to the eye of the observer; irresistibly attractive for gay guys like me. But you also know how to use it to your own and your partner’s advantage. Tyler I don’t think you have any real idea of just how gorgeously sexy you are. With your body and that superb piece of kit between your legs, you can have anyone – man or, God forbid, woman – you want. You, Tyler Blaze will never have any difficulty in satisfying your sexual needs. What more can I say about you to inflate your ego still further, other than that when you threw to the wind just now whatever inhibitions were holding you back. You gave me – and I kid you not – the best fuck of my entire life; believe me, Tyler, when it comes to being fucked, I know my onions.”
As I basked in this fulsome praise concerning my physical appearance and sexual capability, I thought to myself that my most pressing need at the moment, was to find a job and earn my living in LA, a city of which I knew practically nothing and in which I knew nobody other than Cal. The need to meet like minded guys, with whom I could build a satisfactory sex-life, which was a very important activity in my life and without which I would find it hard to live happily, had, for now, to take send place to finding a job – any job – that would pay me a living wage and keep the wolves from the door.
As had just left high-school without even a diploma to my name, and have never worked, other than helping out at a local supermarket on Friday afternoons and Saturdays, I had no experience of anything beyond a very well-developed sex-life for a guy of my age. Sitting there at breakfast in a sort of brown study, listening to Cal go on about my attractive physical appearance and my apparently outstanding sexual capabilities for a guy of my age, I suddenly felt very lonely and fearful for my own future.
I had left home without any plan and barely $1000 to my name. For the moment, my sex-life had to take a back space, as the most important thing for me, right now, was to find a job: any job! I realised that I had been very fortunate to meet Cal; otherwise I would have got off the bus in LA and been completely on my own, with nowhere to sleep that first night. So here I was after not only having been offered a bed for the night, but having fallen on my sexual feet with Cal, who had fortuitously turned out to have the same sexual persuasion as me, and with whom, after the briefest of acquaintances, I found myself head over heels in love. Some might have said that I was suffering from puppy love; but I knew differently; this was for real.
I was jolted out of introspection by Cal: “Tyler, just seeing you sitting there looking as if the world was about to come to an end, I doubt that you have heard a word I have just been saying.” And what he had just said was true; I had been so engulfed by my own thoughts about my future that I had momentarily switched Cal off. He continued: “Now that you have rejoined the land of the living, why don’t you tell me what is bothering you? Something certainly is. Tyler, there is a saying: a burden shared is a burden halved. Come on, Tyler; let’s be hearing what ails you!”
So I set out all my fears to Cal: how I had literally been thrown out of my home by my father, as he could not tolerate me, a sexual pervert, as he thought of me, living under the same roof as him; how I lacked any work experience, other than filling-up supermarket shelves; how I had no paper qualifications, not even a high-school leaving diploma to my name; how I had very little cash to live on immediately; and finally, how I needed to find a job – any job – which would provide me with a sufficient income to support myself in a city in which I knew no-one. I finally added that I could not go on sponging off him forever and had to pay my way.
Cal looked at me for a moment and said: “Tyler, just stop bemoaning your position, which, as I will now explain to you, looks quite rosy to me. You say that you are in a city where you know no one; but we know each other. After what we have been through together since we met just yesterday in Bakersfield, I would say we had got to know each other very well indeed; anyway, that’s how I feel about it; it’s as if we had known each other for years not, as is the case, hours. Let’s face it; a lot of water had flowed under the bridge since we met just yesterday in Bakersfield.”
“It will probably surprise you to know that, like you, I come from a farming community just north of Bakersfield, where I had been to attend my father’s funeral, from which I was on my way back here, when I had the good luck – call it fate, if you wish – to pick you up.
Well, like you, I left home, aged just eighteen, not, I admit, under such harrowing circumstances as yours, but with no qualifications or job experience to speak of, because I saw that I had no future as a gay man, which I knew I was, in the God-fearing farming community into which I had been born. My mother had died, following an unexpected stroke, a few years earlier and my father and I lived alone. Although we never mentioned the subject, I think my father knew that I, his only child, was homosexual. When, aged just eighteen, I told him that I intended to leave and make my life in LA, he said to me that if that is where I saw my future, then I should go, with his blessing, He said he did not wish to see me finish up like him, scratching a living as a hired hand on a truck-farm.”
“So I left. Luckily, I was slightly better off than you obviously are at the moment; I had an old car and about $5000 which I had saved from several summers’ work, picking vegetables on a truck farm, which is what finally made me decide to leave home, as I did not want to spend the rest of my life doing back-breaking, low-paid work. And oh, I almost forgot: I had an iPhone, which my father had bought for me as Christmas present. How he had afforded it, given the pittance he earned on the farm, I don’t know; but I was eternally grateful; most kids at school had one and I guess he did not want me to feel left out. My iPhone and an ancient black and white TV set were the only signs of modernity in our joint lives. Otherwise, I was much as you are now; I had left high-school in the middle of term as soon as I became eighteen and left without a diploma and other than picking vegetables, the equivalent of your filling supermarket shelves, I had no work experience at all. Like you, I desperately needed to find gainful work to support myself. So you see, Tyler, our initials careers are remarkably similar.”
“Via my iPhone, which had kept me in touch with the world beyond the Central Valley for the past year, I located a cheap hotel for the night in this semi-rundown part of LA, which, at the time, I did not know at all, but where we are now and where I have lived ever since my arrival. Just down the street from the hotel was bar, into which I went. Well, as luck had it, by chance, it turned out, to be the watering hole for the local gay community; so I felt at home immediately. Inevitably, I got talking to a young guy, who proved a sympathetic listener, so much so that I gave him potted history of my life, including the fact that I need urgently to find a job. The Gods were truly with me on that occasion, for this guy, whom I have never seen since, told me that there was new gay oriented night-club, called The Extreme, opening up just off Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, the swankiest community in LA County.”
Looking at me with a critical eye, he said: “You look like a well-set-up young stud; so if you fancy that kind of work, you could do worse than go down there and check the lay of the land. I know for a fact, that last week they were still looking for young studs as waiters. I’ve not seen you stripped, but just looking at you now, you look the part. So if the idea appeals to you, I suggest you get your ass down there PDQ and see if they are still hiring.”
“Back at the hotel, I checked on my iPhone and found a web page for The Extreme. Sure enough they were still looking for staff, so I noted the telephone number and rang for an appointment. Coming from a hick town in the Central Valley, I had never before seen a place like Rodeo Drive. To a boy from truck farming country like me, the sheer luxury of the shops was breathtaking. The new Club was in keeping with its location and judging by the luxurious décor and furnishings, the place, which was scheduled to open in two weeks, was aimed at the, numerous, super-rich of Beverly Hills, who, as I was to learn, spent money like it was going out of style. And there were lots of them, both gay and straight, males and females, many of whom indulged their prurient minds in the Mecca of naked male sexuality like The Extreme.”
“It was immediately obvious from the interview that the Club was orientated towards gay sex. As an interviewee for the post of waiter, I was told by the guy, who was interviewing me, to strip naked. I could see from the expression on his face that he was immediately impressed by what he saw. He told me other than other than a tight-fitting thong to support my kit. I would be expected to wait at table practically naked; not even my bubble- butt would be covered, as the cock-thong was backless. Having a body and a cock, of which I was, and, for that matter, still am, inordinately proud and being an exhibitionist at heart, I had no objection to sporting my sexuality quasi-nude. In fact, I welcomed the opportunity to flaunt my physique in front of an admiring audience. Needless to say, I was offered a job as a waiter, to start in two weeks time.”
“After about a month as a waiter, I was summoned to meet the Big White Chief, which is how we, the Indians, referred to the owner of the Club, a Mr Abraham Silverstein – Abe, as I now call him. He motioned me to remove the only thing I was wearing: my cock-thong, He looked intently at my dick, which though in no way comparable with yours, is, nevertheless, bigger than most. He offered me an increased salary if I would become a stripper and perform on stage twice nightly. So there you have it; that is how I came to be a male-stripper at a gay night-Club, which is what I now do for a living. And, as I told you, being an exhibitionist at heart, I love what I am doing. I just love showing off my body and my endowment in front of an adoring audience”
“Why am I telling you all this? Well for a very good reason; since becoming a stripper, I have become the star turn at the Club. I am the guy who brings in the crowds; they come specifically to see me strip. I am the Club’s equivalent of a star male ballet dancer: the primo ballerino asssoluto. Abe, the Club owner, realises just how important I have become to his business and he has asked me to consider performing a live gay sex act on stage and to come up with an idea. He wants to introduce on stage live-sex to draw in more customer, and he wants me not only to devise act, but to perform in it myself.”
“Now, I don’t know how you would feel about sexually exploiting your body for filthy lucre, which is, I believe, the vulgar expression for what I presently do to earn my living; but, in my view, with your body and a totally exceptional cock, you would be an instant star. As you are desperately in need of a job, and have no qualifications, I wonder if you would consider teaming up with me and exploiting the things you do have: your body and your phenomenal cock, which, believe me, from personal experience, I know that you know how to use to perfection. You, Tyler, are just like me: we both love fucking ass and I know that Abe Silverstein, the Club owner, would jump at a chance to have you on his books as one of his performers.”
“Look, Tyler, when I left home two years ago I had no intention of making my career in the sex industry; I became a sex-worker by accident. But now I am in it, I enjoy the work enormously and would not do anything else. Quite frankly, Tyler, you are both a narcissist and an exhibitionist at the same time; you are in love with your own beautiful body and dick; but you also like to show them off to others. And why should you not, given your exceptional physical attributes? And the way you enjoy sex, my guess is that you would enjoy working in a gay Club. You could at least explore the possibilities by coming along to the Club and seeing what what we do and at least talk to Abe Silverstein, the owner. I know for a fact that he is looking to set on two new waiters at the moment. So that could be your entry to greater things. Remember, I started as a waiter and am now rated as the star of the present shown. Believe me, Tyler, you have all it takes to become a sex star; all you need is to get started. So what do you think?”
What did I think? To paraphrase Shakespeare’s Hamlet: To fuck or not to fuck for money that was the question. Quite frankly, whether immediately or at some time in the future, it was a question which had never even crossed my mind. But Cal had put his finger on it right away when he had said that I obviously love fucking, which was truism if ever there was one. I knew that having sex regularly had become the most important preoccupation of my life; an activity, without which, I could not live.
Cal had also perceptively seen that he and I were two of a kind. We both loved sex and were both exhibitionists. I had never thought of myself as such, but faced with the cold fact, I realised that Cal had had been right in labelling me a narcissistic exhibitionist. Given half a chance, I knew I would be delighted to flaunt my body before an admiring audience. Whether or not I would enjoy or could even allow myself to have sex with a partner in front an audience was another matter; I just did not know, as the occasion had never arisen. But I already saw a nightmare scenario, in which my cock refused to rise to the occasion at the critical moment. I was well aware, at least from my own experience, of how little control a man had of his own cock.
I was acutely aware that my penis, my most cherished possession, had a mind of its own; it had not the slightest compunction in making its desires known. It had no hesitation in becoming stridently rigid and embarrassing me at the most inconvenient of moments. Of course, I was aware that it was merely reflecting my own sexual desires of the moment, which I myself understood could not always be satisfied there and then. But my cock seemed sublimely unaware of this fact, as it trumpeted its desire for its moment in the sun – or rather in some other man’s anus – at the most inopportune of occasions, by tenting my trousers with its flag-pole rigidity.
What I did know for a fact, when still at school, I had had no difficulty in indulging in sex with several other guys simultaneously. This was, however, a far cry from having sex with a partner in front of an audience. However, as I needed desperately to find work, cajoled by Cal, I agreed to meet Abe – Abraham Silverstein – the Club’s owner, ostensibly in search of a job as a waiter. So the next evening I went along with Cal to the Club, see him and his co-workers in action and meet Abraham Sliverstein himself.
What can I tell you about the Club? It was revelation for me, a preacher’s son, who had never, in my life, been in any sort of Club, let alone a gay night-Club. The waiters were all physically attractive, practically nude, young men with muscular bodies and prominent bulges between their legs, where their kit was contained in a simple, tight fitting, backless cock-thong designed to accentuate their sexual endowments. Viewed from the front they all displayed a sizable, sexy-looking bulge, while from the rear they appeared to be completely naked.
I can tell you that my own cock was already on its upward journey at the sight of so much eminently fuckable, male flesh in one place at one time. I marvelled that they all seemed to have their cocks totally disciplined, as there was no sign of a boner anywhere. Quite frankly, I was so aroused just by looking around me that I could readily have fucked all of them, there and then, one after the other. It was just the most erotic place I had ever been in my entire life; and the reason for my arousal, were the young studs just waiting at table, doing nothing more, nothing less!
But the naked waiters faded into the background, when the stripper floor show began at eleven o’clock. I say, floor show, as there was a small dance floor on which male-male couples, mingled with male-female couples, were dancing to disco music But the floor show took place on a small stage at the side of a room And what an eye-opener it was for me, seeing, for the first time, several muscular well-endowed where-it-counted young men shed the small cock-thongs supporting their sex-kit, without a trace of embarrassment and vaunt their all with considerable flourish, in front of an audience, both male and female, a large part of which was practically salivating at the mouth with desire.
It was quite a different matter than showering with one’s classmates after sports at school. It moved male nudity into the realms of the sexually erotic, making all the performers sexually desirable. I hate to admit it, but I was myself as sexually aroused, as the audience evidently was, by was by the sheer eroticism of the gorgeously attractive young men who were stripping off in front of us. Being totally honest with myself, given half a chance, as with the waiters, I could happily have fucked any or all of the strippers before us.
Cal came on alone as the star of the show. He entered as if he were the primo ballerino assoluto, the absolute the star male dancer of the evening, which I guess he was, making his dramatic entrance as in a classical ballet. And the resemblance to a ballet did not end there; it was obvious that Cal’s superb performance had been choreographed by a professional, who had thought out and trained him in every movement of his entire routine. Cal stripping on stage was an absolute triumph of erotic suggestion, which had entire audience sitting on the edge of their seats and biting their nails, in nervous anticipation of what was to come. At the moment of ultimate denouement, when Cal finally discarded his only garment, the skimpy cock thong he had been wearing and gave the audience their first sight of his all, which, I can assure you, was well worth looking at, he received an enormous round of well merited applause.
I had already fallen in love with Cal, whom I had only known for two days. But seeing him perform on stage and share his beautiful attributes visually, with a group of people, who were paying to see him perform, made me feel very privileged that I shared his body – and he mine – in a much more intimate than just with our eyes. I can tell you that seeing Cal on stage, although I knew he was tantamount to prostituting his physical assets to earn his living, in my eyes he could do no wrong. At that moment, I would have done anything for him. I was, as the saying has it: head over heels in love with the guy.
And so I began to see what one aspect of a male-stripper’s life involved. It seemed preferable to me to becoming a so-called male- escort, who sold his sexual prowess to an ever-changing spectrum of male clients who had the financial means to find their sexual fulfilment in fucking and being fucked by a professional group of men, who earned their living by selling access to their cocks and anuses, to all comers. However, the main purpose in my first visit to the Club, in addition to seeing what Cal actually did for a living, was to meet the owner, Abe – Abraham Silverstein, and hopefully be offered a job.
I had already decided that I liked the idea of working almost naked with a group of young studs, who like Cal and me, were probably all gay. It was just the sort of environment which suited my sex-oriented personality and where I would feel comfortable. It was also a place, in which I could realise my hitherto hidden desire, which Cal had perceptively recognised, to show off my body, which, leaving false modesty aside, I knew was rather special. After all, how often does one come across a guy with a muscular body like mine, who has a blockbuster penis, which he knows how to use and is not embarrassed either to us it or to show it off?
The fact of the matter was that I knew that I had a truly exceptional cock, which was almost ten inches long when flaccid and just over a foot long when rigid and ready for action. I knew I had something out of the ordinary to offer; and I just knew that it was the sort of place where I could make my mark.
Abe began: “Well, Tyler, Cal here, who is our most valued employee, has extolled your virtues and has already told me a lot about you. I hear that you have just arrived in LA and are looking for a job. Cal has suggested to me that you might be suitable for one of the vacant positions of waiter here at the Club. Now you have seen the sort of – let is call it – livery, which the waiters wear to do their job and I take it that you would be willing to take a job in which you would be practically naked the whole time, otherwise you would not be here right now.”
“Let me be quite clear, Tyler; this place is a gay sex-Club, where folks of all sexual persuasions come to feast their eyes on a bevy of attractive, virtually naked, sexy-looking young waiters, who, together with the strippers, are jointly the key to our enormous success; and I would stress that this Club is very successful, as it is full to capacity very night. Given the importance of the physical appearance of the key staff, it will not surprise you if I now ask you to strip naked so that I can judge for myself your physical suitability for a post here. Seeing is believing and I need to see each and every candidate with my own eyes, before I make him an offer of a job.”
As Abe had said, I was not at all surprised to be asked to exhibit myself naked in front of my potential future employer; so I quickly shed all my clothes and stood, totally unembarrassed, stark naked, in front of Abe and Cal. My wilful cock had decided to behave itself and remained flaccid. It nevertheless insisted on its presence as the key part my anatomy, as it descended gracefully over my balls, in a. visually attractive ten-inch curve. I saw from the awestruck look on Abe’s face as he took in my incredible endowment – and believe me it truly was an incredible sight – that he was mightily impressed by what he was seeing.
He then said: “Tyler, I don’t think you want to make your debut into the commercial world of gay sex as a waiter; you are just too well equipped to waste your time waiting on tables. In fact, I have never seen a guy with a more beautiful body with a bigger dick than you in my life; and believe me. I’ve seen a hell of a lot in my time. What I suggest the two of you do, is to go away and come up with a live sex act which you two could perform together and most importantly, would be willing to perform on stage at his Club. I know I am asking a lot of you; but live sex is where his business is going; so you might as well face facts and be in from the start, otherwise you may be left behind. Trust me; I have a nose for these things.”
“Oh, Tyler, before I forget; I hope you will not be offended if I become personal give you a piece of advice; I think you should get your dick cut. For some reason you were not circumcised a birth. Uncircumcised studs are kind of a no no in the professional gay sex business. Removal of your foreskin will improve your already stunning appearance, but also from personal standpoint you will find that fucking your partner will be much more comfortable than you find it now.”
“Just looking at your cock in its present floppy state I see that your foreskin is already stretched to the limit over the sizeable cock-head, but that over half the head still remains bare. When you are having sex, I think that you must probably find it uncomfortable to have your foreskin stretched to the limit and still have a good half of your head exposed. I think that purely from a personal point of view, you should bite the bullet and get yourself circumcised. You will find having sex much more comfortable and also look much better without your foreskin, which is anyway too small and not fit for purpose.”
“If you need surgeon, I can recommend a good one, who specializes in adult circumcision. His name is Emmanuel Cohen; his surgery is just off Rodeo Drive, a few minutes’ walk from here.” Although Abe had not spelled it out, he had left me with the impression that any job at the Club would be conditional on my going under the knife and saying farewell to the offending bit of flesh: A daunting thought, I can tell you!
Chapter 8
It was three in the morning by the time we got back to Cal’s place. Although I would have liked nothing more than to have had sex with him, we were both too tired even to think of trying to raise the flag,
Next morning, over breakfast, we chewed the fat over what Abe Sliverstein wanted us to do. It was obvious from the meeting yesterday, that I had no future as a waiter at the Club, as Abe already saw me as being a key element in the live sex-act, which he wished to introduce. I have to say that I felt both disappointed and flattered: disappointed because I still had no job, which I desperately needed; but flattered as Abe had immediately seen me as a key player in the new direction in which he intended for the Club: on stage live, gay sex. But that was in the future; what I needed was a job right then.
Abe was a perceptive old bird, and he had out his finger on the one thing which had bothered me for quite some time; in reality, since I first started having sex regularly with other guys: the fact that I had an uncut cock. I wondered why my parents had not had me circumcised as a baby, as is the case with most American male children; but for some reason, they had not. The result was that I had been left with an ugly and unwanted piece of foreskin, much too small for purpose. As my cock had grown to its present impressive size, for some reason the growth of my foreskin had not kept pace with the growth of the shaft and cockhead; so even when I was soft, my titchty piece of foreskin only managed to cover part of my considerable cockhead.
Abe had been right in that active sex, involving my cock as distinct from my anus, had proved ever more uncomfortable as my cock had grown in size. What regularly happened when I fucked butt, especially of guys like Cal, who in addition to having a tight anus also gripped my shaft with his anal muscles during intercourse, was that my foreskin sometimes rolled itself back into a tight ring, which settled itself like a wedding ring, directly in the rim beneath my cockhead, making sex if not actually painful, at least uncomfortable. The solution was simple: get myself circumcised. But I can tell, you, aged eighteen, as I was at the time, just the thought of allowing someone loose with a scalpel on my most precious possession filled me with fear.
But we were not yet there; first Cal and I had to decide whether we we prepared to participate in a live sex act on stage and then come up with the choreography for an act, which was sufficiently attractive to sell – figuratively speaking, of course – to Abe Silverstein. After much verbally-heated toing and froing, airing the pros and cons of the idea, during which I expressed to Cal my worst fear that my cock might refuse to play ball at the critical moment, he finally persuaded me to go along with the idea. Both of us had experience of group sex; but there was a world of difference between having sex with a group of guys, all of whom were participating in the act itself and having anal and oral sex before an audience who – crudely, but accurately put – were paying to see a group of guys fuck each other.
And so, we put together an act, in which Cal and I were the leading protagonists throughout. The Grand Finale, to give it an imposing name, was what I can but describe as a four-man, fellatio-copulative, tour de force, to be enacted by Cal and me as principal protagonists, plus two other guys.
We went along one morning to the Club and presented our idea for a fifteen minute live-sex act, worked out in the finest detail to Abe, who metaphorically bought the idea lock, stock and barrel. To avoid repeating myself, I will save the details of what we actually did during the act until later.
The first question which Abe asked was: “How long do you guys think you will need to get your act up and running?” After a lengthy discussion, we agreed that a month would probably be long enough. Our first task was to find several ther good-looking hunks of young male muscle, who would be willing to participate in a live sex show themselves. The Club had about twenty, well-set-up male strippers on its books, and so we began by asking them if they would be willing to go beyond the soft porn act of stripping on stage and move into what can but be called hard porn.
Surprisingly enough, we had little difficulty at all recruiting from among the Club’s present strippers, several young studs who were willing – in some cases, even eager – to earn more money by allowing their bodies to be used for live sex acts on the stage. But in addition to the actors and the rehearsing of the routine, there were the special props to be designed and made.
I was overjoyed to have obtained a job, even if the starting date and salary, which, by the way, was very generous, were at least a month away. But to my great surprise Abe, who clearly saw me as a key protagonist in the live sex routine, called me into his office and made me an offer, which I could not refuse.
“I have been thinking things over and have decided that as you have no prior experience of any kind of work, let alone acting on stage, whether in a live sex routine or otherwise, the best thing would be for you to join us immediately as a trainee stripper and get some experience of exposit yourself naked before an audience. I know you have incredible physique on offer and I am sure you will be a success; but you need to know how to use your assets. So here’s the deal; you join immediately as a trainee stripper. That way you will get some experience of showing yourself naked on stage, before appearing as one of the key performers in what, let’s face it, is a ground breaking routine.”
He then came back to the fact that he thought I should get my cock circumcised. Although not spelled out in words, it became clear to me that getting my cock cut was a non-negotiable condition of the deal I was being offered. The deal was, quite frankly, financially very generous for an eighteen year-old, with no previous work experience whatsoever. I was clear to me that Abe really wanted me to join his outfit as he continued:
“I believe in looking after my employees, who are, at the end of the day, all I have to offer the public. So once you are on the books as a registered employee, you will have full health insurance, which is paid for by the company, I think we can swing the necessary operation on your cock that we discussed previously, on the insurance. I have already taken the liberty to discuss the matter with the surgeon I mentioned to you previously, Dr. Emmanuel Cohen, who is a close personal friend, who will resolve the problem for you. In fact he is waiting for you to call him for an appointment; so since you are in agreement, why don’t I give him a ring right now and make an appointment for him to see you?”
As I also privately agreed with Abe about the question of ridding my cock forever of that irritating foreskin and having myself full circumcised, I allowed him to go ahead and and book me an appointment with Dr. Cohen. Talk about Speedy Gonzales; I listened to Abe make an appointment for me to visit Dr Cohen – Mannie as he called him – that very afternoon at two o’clock. I saw that I had been forced to bite the bullet bucket and make a decision; or better put, I had had a decision made for me, which I knew I would myself have forever put off making until that tomorrow, the day which never comes. I saw that I had literally been rail-roaded into setting the wheels in motion for submitting myself to the knife, for which, to jump ahead, I found myself feeling ever more grateful in the future, as it made my very active sex-life much more comfortable and enjoyable.
But Abe has still not finished, as he continued: “If I were you, when you see Dr Cohen this afternoon, I should fix as early a date as possible to get the operation over and done with. In my view, you will need two weeks for your dick to heal and Cal, you and the team will need several weeks to rehearse and perfect your act and come to terms with the fact that you will be engaged in acts of hardcore pornography, in front of an audience, which is paying an arm and a leg to see you perform. So I want everything to be absolutely perfect from the word go. I expect a demonstration of high quality fucking on stage from all of you and not, to make a pun, a monumental fuck-up. I’ve invested a great deal in this idea and I am depending on you, Cal and your team to deliver. Everything: absolutely everything must be perfect.”
Chapter 9
I had seen Abe alone; and Cal was waiting for me outside. I told him what had transpired and how I had been more or less bulldozed into an appointment that very afternoon with a surgeon. “Abe sure does not waste time when he want something; and he sure wants me circumcised PDQ, if not sooner. He has not spelled it out, but he has left me with the impression that I must get my cock attended to if I want the job. Anyway he had arranged an appointment to see Dr. Cohen, who is a friend of his whom he calls Manny, this afternoon at three. Apparently his office is just two blocks away.”
“Cal, it’s not that I object to having myself circumcised; in fact, I have been thinking about it for quite some time, even before I met you and came to LA. You have seen my tool, which is large by any standards; but it ahd one problem: my foreskin is much too small and is tightly stretched over my cock-head, which makes fucking, my favourite pastime, uncomfortable for me. I suppose Abe’s insistence on getting myself circumcised is something that I would have done on my own, but perhaps no right now. I can tell you, Cal, that just the thought of letting someone loose with a scalpel on my fuck-stick, gives me the willies. Anyway, thanks to Abe, the clock is now ticking; and, I suppose, in spite of my fears, I welcome it, as it is forcing me into doing something, which I have known, for quite some time, is necessary for the enjoyment of my sex life.”
Cal and I went to get something to eat. We then swanned around Rodeo Drive, window shopping, until the appointed hour of two o’clock when we entered Dr. Cohen’s office. I confess it was with a palpitating heart that I left Cal in the waiting room and went in to see the surgeon. Dr Cohen turned out to be a kindly looking, elderly man, who tried to set me at my ease for what was, for me, inevitably destined to be a somewhat embarrassing and delicate discussion. It turned out to be much easier than I thought.
“Abe Silverstein has told me of your problem. First of all, I would like to examine you to see exactly what I shall be dealing with. So, if you would to move into the room next door, take off your lower garments and lie on the examination table, I need to take a first look at you and see what needs to be done.”
Of course, I complied with his request. I saw from his face, when he first saw the size of my penis that he was impressed; but then anyone seeing me for the first time always was.
“Yes, I see you are suffering from a foreskin which is much too small for purpose. Your shaft has grown apace; but your foreskin has not followed suit, so that it now barely covers half the head of your penis, even when it is at rest and soft, as it now is, And I can see that when you copulate, which, I presume being a virile young man, you frequently do, your foreskin becomes so stretched over the head of your penis that it makes sexual intercourse uncomfortable, if not downright painful painful for you.”
“Well, that’s the bad news. The good news is that your problem is quite common among young men of your age and is easily corrected by surgically removing the offending foreskin. It is a routine, procedure, completely painless, done under local anaesthetic and which does not need hospitalization. It is a procedure which I perform several several times each week in an operating room attached to my surgery here. The full recovery time is normally a maximum of fourteen days, during which you must refrain from active sexual intercourse, involving your penis.”
“Now, as Abe Silverstein has told me that you are eager to get the thing over and done with as soon as possible, I could operate on you tomorrow morning at ten o’clock, if that would be convenient for you. I exceptionally have a slot available, as a patient has just cancelled his appointment for exactly the same operation as I will be performing on you. May I take it that you accept my offer? My operating schedule is full for the next four weeks, which would keep you waiting for quite some time.”
Needless to say, push had come to shove much sooner than I had expected, which, given my dithering attitude, was probably a good thing. With nervous trepidation, I reluctantly accepted his offer to submit my cock to his ministrations with the knife, tomorrow morning. I suspected, given his insistence that I be fully circumcised as soon as possible, that Abe had set me up with his friend, Manny Cohen and that the pair of them had conspired together to ensure that my problem was dealt with immediately.
When I told Cal that I had an appointment to go under the knife, and thought that I had been the victim of a conspiracy, he simply laughed and said: “Well, Tyler, as Abe and you wanted the same thing. I don’t see that it makes any odds. You have been fast tracked into getting something done which you yourself also wanted done, but which, your shilly-shallying and inability to bite the bullet prevented you from making the decision yourself. You should be thankful that Abe wants you badly enough to work for him that he has taken the decision for you. I am completely with him; you will look a lot better and even sexier than you look now, if that is possible, once you are circumcised and have got rid of that annoying bit of foreskin”
“And let me just tell another thing. What Abe told you about swinging the cost of your op. onto the health insurance, was a load of hogwash. Health insurers do not pay for what is cosmetic surgery and beautifying your dick certainly falls into that category. Abe just wants you so badly to work for him and I can well see why: you have a totally exceptional dick, which as Abe sees it, will propel you stardom as a porn star; and, in so doing will earn him a lot of money. I might add that I am almost sure that Abe is going to pay Mannie Cohen for your operation out of his own pocket.”
“Look at the incentives he has given you as he knows you have no money and have got to have job. He has arranged for you to be circumcised, to render your already magnificent tool absolutely perfect and fit for purpose; he is paying you to wait on table while your cock is healing after the op; and he is also paying you for several weeks to rehearse our new, live-sex routine of which, as you and I both already know, you will be the star. Open your eyes, Tyler. You, young man, thanks to your magnificent phallus, are Abe’s golden boy; you had better begin believing that is true because it is. You, Tyler Blaze are Abe’s great white hope for the future.”
“So come on, lover-boy, let’s get back home so that I can enjoy your dick in all its uncut pristine glory, at least one last time before it goes under the knife tomorrow, from which it will emerge improved, but changed forever. You should make the most of this evening, as from tomorrow, you will not be able to fuck me, or for that matter, anyone else, for at least two weeks. I may find myself with a guy exhibiting acute withdrawal symptoms on my hands, which I will, of course, with my own limited means attempt to alleviate”
“So, Tyler, for the next two weeks, you will have to be thankful for small mercies. By the way, the word small refers not to the size of my cock, which even my most jaundiced of critics could never refer to as being small, but to the fact that for the next two weeks, whilst your own cock is convalescing, I shall be attempting to compensate, in my own small way, for the sexual deprivation that having your cock out of action will inevitably bring in its wake. To paraphrase a well-known saying: a cock in need is a friend indeed.”
It had not escaped me that Cal had just said: “Come on, lover-boy, let’s get back home.” Was it a slip of the tongue that he had used the word, home, rather than saying, my place? After all it was his apartment. Did it imply that, in spite of our brief acquaintance, he saw me as a permanent companion: that his apartment was our home – his and mine – and not just his place, where I was just a bird of passage? I have already told you that I had fallen head over heels in love with Cal. The thing I wished for more than anything in the world at that moment was for him to feel the same way about me.
What was clear was that immediately we arrived back at the apartment we both wanted the same thing: sex with each other. We tore of our clothes and went into the bedroom, where I seized the initiative and pushed Cal flat on his back on the bed. I reached for the tube of Anolube, which was still to hand on the bedside table, anointed my cock, which was totally ready for sex and leaking pre-cum like it was going out of style, generously with lubricant, knelt down between Cal’s legs and forced myself into him in one smooth, powerful thrust. I then proceeded to give his anus absolute hell, as I pounded it like a man possessed, until I could hold back no longer, when with one final thrust, I climaxed into the greatest orgasm I had ever experienced. I deposited, tsunami-like, what seemed gallons of my semen deep inside of Cal.
I knew what I had just done to Cal, bore no relationship to sexual love-making whatsoever; it was just pure raw, rough sex, dedicated to satisfying my momentary, uncontrollable, libido. As soon as I realised what I had done, I felt ashamed, even though I had come to accept that rough sex was part and parcel of our relationship. The fact that both of us – especially me – had enjoyed what I had just done, cut no ice with my ever present conscience, which reminded me that I basically did not approve of one-sided sex, where only one partner achieved orgasm. It was a feeling, which I sensed I would never shake off; it would be like a millstone around my neck for the rest of my life.
But we are the way we are and not the way we would like ourselves to be. Cal’s attitude was quite different to mine, as he had a much more relaxed attitude to sex. He took what I suppose is the rough with the smooth, even if the act satisfied only one partner. It was, of course, Cal, who had introduced me to the concept of rough sex, when he had jumped on me and virtually raped me. I had allowed him to continue as I had quickly found that I was enjoying every second of the cock-whipping he was visiting on my ass. But I also saw his other side: that he was not insensitive to the needs of his partner, as he had shown me that the top could achieve orgasm for both his partner and himself by dint of persistent use of his penis alone.
Having just rough fucked Cal, I did not allow him to address my anus immediately as I wanted to show him just how much I loved him. So after kissing him profusely on the mouth, which I was overjoyed to see he returned equally firmly, I smothered his body with kisses, before taking his cock into my mouth and sucking it lovingly. It was, for me an utterly heavenly moment, when, for the second time, I slid myself inside his rectum, and proceeded very gently to fuck him through to orgasm. When he climaxed, he added still more of his semen to the pool of sweat and jism between between our two bodies. I managed to hold myself back long enough to fuck him through to his climax, before achieving my own second orgasm and adding to the already copious load of semen I had already deposited inside him.
Quite frankly, I was deliriously happy with my performance; I had enjoyed a rough fuck in which I had just satisfied my own libido; but I had then gone on and made true love to Cal, with whom I was now deeply in love. As we lay there in each other’s arms as lovers, enjoying the afterglow of two acts of sexual union, which had satisfied both of us, I whispered those magic words, Cal, I love you, into his ear.
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” he said laughingly. “Well, Tyler, it may be gratifying for you to know that the sentiment is reciprocated. No one who is not in love with his partner, could have given me the tender, loving care, which you lavished on me just now. You have quickly become a master at rough sex, which, in spite of your reservations, you find exhilarating when in the mood, which you obviously were just now. You, Tyler Blaze, you are a gorgeously beautiful young man, with a magnificent cock, which you know how use to perfection and I consider myself very privileged that you share it with me. I can tell you, with my hand on my heart, that the best thing I ever did in my life was to stop in Bakersfield and pick you up, just a few days ago.”
“Well, there we are, Tyler, we both now know how we feel about each other. So after that battering you just gave my ass, I so hungry that I could eat a horse. So, why don’t we get cleaned up and go and find something to eat. When we come back, I can show you how I intend to take care of you during your two weeks’ convalescence, while your cock is out of action.” As was his manner, he then added, laughingly: “Ah, the burdens we are prepared to bear when we are in love!”
I can tell you that it was the happiest man in the world who allowed is lover to soap him up in the shower that evening. I could hardly believe my luck that I had not even been hitch hiking when I had been picked up by a man, with whom I had fallen in love; a love which I now knew was mutual. We ate quickly and returned home – I already thought of Cal’s apartment as our home – and spent a few hours, in which Cal alternated between making love to me and battering my ass with his dick, at both of which he was a consummate master. We finally both fell asleep exhausted, to wake, next morning, to the very day, on which I was to lose my foreskin under the scalpel of Dr. Cohen.
Cal allowed me no second thoughts, as, after another shower, he and I breakfasted together before leaving the apartment for my appointment. My cock was scheduled to go under the knife at ten o’clock that morning and I appreciated the moral support of Cal, who assured me that it was routine, minor procedure and that I had nothing to worry about. Had I been left my own devices, I would probably have chickened out and not turned for the appointment. I frankly admit that I was still shit-scared by what was about to happen to my cock
Cal waited for me while Dr. Cohen did the deed which would change the appearance of my cock forever. Lying there completely naked on the operating table as I was, he began by giving me an injection in my arm of some product which he said would prevent my penis from becoming erect and gorged with blood duping the operation. Another man, who, as I later learned, was the anaesthesiologist, then gave me a second injection somewhere in my lower abdomen, which effectively anaesthetised my balls and penis. As Dr. Cohen had previously assured me, removal of my foreskin was completely painless and half an hour later, I was allowed to get up from the operating table a changed man; my penis had been rid of the annoying foreskin and I was now fully circumcised.
Dr. Cohen had neatly stitched together the two cut edges where he had sliced away the offending foreskin and I stood up with my cock swathed in purpose designed bandages. These consisted of two components. The actual circumferential cut below the cock-head was protected by a thimble-like cap, which fitted glove-like over the head itself and protected the circumferential cut beneath the rim, which needed to heal. A hole had been left in the tip of the cap to permit me to pee without disturbing the bandage. This purpose made device was held in place by two strings which were tied around my scrotum. The whole was held neatly in place by a tube of some elasticised cloth, which had been rolled like a condom over the full length of my shaft.
Dr. Cohen gave me a number of strict, non-negotiable instructions: “For seven day, you must take one of the pills I am about to give you, each morning before breakfast. For 24 hours, they will prevent you from having an erection which could lead to bleeding before the surgical cuts have had time to knit together. Twice a week, you must come here to allow your dressing to be changed and to allow me to see that everything is progressing normally. You cannot, of course, fuck, or more politely put have sexual intercourse, involving your own penis, for the next two weeks.”
“Tyler, it is not usual for me to comment on any patient’s physique, but I have to tell you that I have never seen or operated on such a magnificent penis as yours. I feel quite honoured to have been the one to have been permitted to remove your foreskin, which, quite frankly, being a Jew myself, I see as a ritual obligation for all new born Jewish boys’ and most Americans, whether Jewish or not, agree with me; statistically some 71% of all American males have been circumcised. However in your case it was not a ritual circumcision but a medical necessity, as your foreskin was just too tight and would have caused you perpetual problems with your sex life.”
“But necessity has turned into a virtue; the operation I have just performed on you is by way also of being a piece of cosmetic surgery, which, as you will see for yourself, when the bandages are removed, has turned your already splendid penis into a uniquely magnificent object of which you can and should be justifiably proud. Tyler, believe me when I say that you will never regret never regret losing your foreskin. In my view, categorically, you will be the envy of every guy who sees you.”
“Now, knowing what Abe has told me of his plans for you and seeing the guy, who is waiting to take you home, I can well imagine that you have a very active sex life. I venture to suppose that you and the young man, who is waiting to take you home, are sort of an item. I also can imagine, having seen you and knowing what you do for a living, that to be faced with no sex for two weeks must feel like being exiled to Siberia. However I see no reason for you not to play the passive role in any sexual relationship during the two week prohibition period, provided during the first week you take the pills that I have given you to prevent yourself having an erection. Need I say more?”
I was as happy as a sandboy as Cal drove me home and I recounted to him how things had gone: “Dr. Cohen had the impression that I was already a key employee working at the Club. He also kind of assumed that you and I were an item, which I sincerely hope we are in the process of becoming. He said he did not wish to deprive me of my active sex life for two weeks, which he compared to being exiled to Siberia. So although my cock is off limits for active sex whilst it is healing, he saw no reason to forbid me playing what he delicately described as the passive role in any sexual encounter. In other words, Cal, although I am prohibited from fucking you for two weeks, you have carte blanche to fuck me. I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies; after all, half a loaf is better than no bread.”
For the two weeks of my convalescence, Cal fucked me nightly. But I discovered a different Cal to the hail fellow well met, whom I had previously experienced, as he showed me his gentler side and truly made love to me. Each time he fucked me, which was more or less every night, he made sure that he took me through to orgasm. Even during the first week after the operation, when I was taking the pills to prevent me having an erection, by dint of his persistence during intercourse, he made sure that I always had an orgasm, even when my cock remained soft. I had fallen in love with him the first time we had had sex together; but in playing my enforced passive role, I saw, from the way he had treated me that he was now just as deeply love with me as I was with him. We did not need words to confirm what we both knew: we were an item.
The moment of truth arrived, after two weeks the last bandages came off and I was able to view my modified penis for the first time. I can but say that I was impressed by the visual improvement that the removal of a small piece of foreskin had had on my cock. My cock- head, which, like the sun, partially behind a fleeting cloud, had previously been partly hidden from view by that irritating piece of foreskin, was now visible and positively glowing in all its pristine glory. I saw that Dr. Cohen had performed a masterly circumcision, leaving no trace whatsoever of the offending foreskin. Thanks to his expertise, although my cock was at present flaccid, my cockhead now stood out proudly, set off from my shaft by a well-defined rim.
That evening, back at home, Cal handed me an elaborately gift-wrapped package: “After your enforced spell in the desert, with no active sex possible, I thought I would give you a welcome home gift, which would encourage you to take up your former activity again as an active sex partner, which I can tell you, I have myself missed as much as I imagine you have. I know that you have not been totally deprived of the life-blood of our joint existence during your enforced abstinence. But that having been said, I know how I would have felt myself to have been forbidden to have active sex with my partner for two weeks, which for guys as sexually active as we two are, must have seemed like an age for you.”
“Anyway I thought I would give you a welcome home present, which I hope will help confirm our unity if that is even necessary and will encourage you to resume your former activity as vigorously as ever. I can tell you, Tyler, with my hand on my heart, I have missed being fucked by you much as I imagine you have missed fucking me. I know that neither of us has exactly been totally deprived; but let’s face it; the past two weeks have been a bit one sided. But, Tyler, beggars cannot be choosers; and the alternative, total abstinence, would have been just too awful even to think about.”
“Come on, Tyler, open up your present and let me know what you think. It is something, or perhaps more accurately; some things, which will make our joint sex life, if not actually better, at least less messy.”
I tore the wrapping paper off the package and laughed out loud when I found a box of what the legend on the carton proclaimed were 100 Imperial Condoms. The brand, Ultimate Pleasure, was one of which I had never heard, but which already smacked of China. On the odd occasion I had used a condom, I had always bought the well-known American Trojan brand: Closer inspection showed that they had indeed been imported from that workshop of the world, which seems to produce literally every conceivable – and I might add, every unconceivable – object that man might ever desire. I opened the carton to find 100 neatly packed foil-wrapped condoms, which a message printed on the inside of the lid, read:
You have shown your discernment and refinement by choosing Ultimate Pleasure Imperial Condoms, designed to enhance the sexual pleasure for men of extra-large endowment. Like all Ultimate Pleasure condoms these Imperial Condoms are pre-lubricated and suitable immediate use without additional lubrication. All Ultimate Pleasure condoms are suitable for both vaginal and anal sexual intercourse.”
Manufactured by Rising Sun Latex Products Company.
Shanghai – People’s Republic of China
“You may be laughing right now,” said Cal, “But as head of this household, someone has to take decisions. As we are both as randy as hell and fuck like rabbits, I have decided from now on that we should both wear a condom when having what is politely known as sexual intercourse, casually referred to by the likes of you and me, as having a fuck. We both inevitably seem to emit generous quantities of our semen which makes a sticky mess of everything it touches. The mess made, by whichever of us happens to be bottoming at the time, is particularly annoying, as his whole load is dumped directly onto the bed-sheets, between which we are later to sleep. So, I thought, purely in the interests of keeping the place liveable, if we both used a condom when we fuck, at the point of orgasm might avoid the worst of the inevitable; the highly undesirable, sticky spin-off from what has to be just the most enjoyable pastime of all time. Oh why, oh why does gay sex have to be so messy?”
I could see the sense of what Cal was saying; and let’s face it we were both very active sexually. And so, I went along with his suggestions, which had sounded a bit like a non-negotiable dictum. But I noticed that he had said: “As head of this household,” which obviously included me. It was a statement which reinforced my feeling of permanence; as if in the light of what had passed between us, that was even necessary. And so, I began my post-operation sex life with Cal always using a condom.
Chapter 10
As Cal had predicted, Abe had indeed picked up the entire tab with Dr. Cohen. I had agreed with Abe that during my convalescence I would wait table at the Club. In the event, Abe told me that I should skip coming to work until the the bandages were removed and I was fully healed. Cal observed that Abe obviously saw me as a strong potential performer at his Club, as he was paying my salary for the full two weeks. I felt, justifiably, in meeting Cal and in the events which followed that I had well and truly fallen on my feet. I freely admit that I gave in to my innate, irrepressible narcissism, as I stood, several times, in front of a full length mirror, admiring my own body and my remodelled cock.
Looking in the mirror at what I now had to offer the public, I felt proud of the distance I had come in such a short space of time. I had gained in self-confidence and felt sure that a combination of my physical appearance, sexual ability and fate had destined me for a career in the sex industry, which I now could hardly wait to begin. I realised that I was now about to launch myself into a career, in which being the exhibitionist I undoubtedly was, was a distinct advantage. I had no fear whatsoever, of throwing myself wholeheartedly into live-sex acts on stage, before an audience, which would make the average guy think twice.
On my first day at the Club as a stripper, I was surprised to be required to submit my entire body to a resident barber, who systematically removed every hair, including my pubic hair, from my body, except the hair on my head, which he also, nevertheless, expertly dressed. I have to say I enjoyed being treated to a complete body-makeover, which I had already seen on Cal, to which I had never realise that I too would be subjected. Looking at myself post-penis-operation and post-tonsorial preparation for the stage, I thought how utterly stunning I looked; but then, a narcissistic person like me would think that about himself, hoping for verbal compliments from his co-workers, which I am happy to say came without fishing on my part.
Then there was the question of how to clothe my exceptionally large genital kit for my entry on stage. What the strippers were required to do at the Club was to come onto the stage, wearing only a backless cock-thong; the rather rudimentary, pared-down, male-stripper equivalent of the famous seven veils, of which Eastern female dancers are reputed to divest themselves during their performance. It- should be observed that even in the hypocrisy-riddled, religiously- observant sexually repressive societies of the East, fleshpots abound, where women strip before a strictly all male audience, who, to a man, keep their female family members under lock and key under the motto: do as I say, not as I do. Along with the truth, sex, whether homosexual or heterosexual, will out, everywhere in the world.
But I see I have digressed from what I should wear for my entry onto stage. My greater than normal sexual endowment, which was precisely what differentiated me from most other strippers, was not easily contained in the standard, eye-patch-like cock-strings that were de rigueur at the Club. Abe, who had his eye on absolutely everything, did not allow a little thing like my oversized cock and ball ensemble, my distinguishing assets from all other guys, to deter him. Predicated on what he evidently saw as my future star status, at considerable expense, he called in a well-known swimwear designer, who designed and made for me, several pairs of Lycra thong-posers, which espoused and contained my genitalia in the most eye-catching of large bulges.
By this time I had been working, or rather been paid by Abe for doing nothing for the best part of a month since my operation. During this time I was schooled by Cal in the art of becoming a male stripper, so that by the time I made my first appearance on stage. I knew by heart, the routine, grandiosely referred to as choreography. Let’s face it; there is not awful lot a stripper, either male or female, can do on stage, other than flaunt their (hopefully) physical attractiveness to the audience and finally, having tantalised the audience, reveal all.
My maiden appearance on stage was punctuated from the start, by shouts of: “Get ’em off; let’s see if what’s hidden is worth hiding” and the like. When I finally acceded to the increasingly vociferous demands of the audience and stripped off my cock-thong, to expose my all to the baying clamour of the audience, I received a tremendous round of applause just for exhibiting my exceptional, monumental combination of cock and balls.
It was the first time that I had used my exceptional endowment other than for pleasure for myself and my sex partner. I was overwhelmed by the realisation that people were willing to pay to see me and my co-workers strip naked and ogle our sexy looking bodies. I saw that tonight, I had taken my first step in earning my living in what was the gay porn industry and I had enjoyed immensely every moment of exhibiting myself naked on stage in front of a paying audience. I felt on top of the world at having taken the first step into turning what had hitherto been my greatest pleasure in life into a means of earning my living.
With the exuberance of youth and the resounding applause of the audience ringing in my ears, I felt that I was set to conquer the world as I felt that I had found my place in life. In the weeks following my first appearance on stage as a stripper, it became obvious that I was the star of the show. The club, ever well patronised by the great and the not-so-good of Beverly Hills high society, became packed to the gills every night. Meanwhile, in addition to appearing twice nightly as strippers on stage, Cal and I, and our chosen co-performers workers worked tirelessly on perfecting the tableaux for the the live-sex show, of which Abe, and generously, also Cal saw me as the undoubted future star.
Finally, after some six weeks of rehearsing, the modifications to the small stage of the club, involving the building a proscenium arch with curtains, as in a proper theatre, to increase the dramatic theatricality of what we were proposing to show, were completed. The entire cast of sexy looking studs, was able to stage a dress-rehearsal in front of Abe to obtain his imprimatur of approval. I say dress-rehearsal in the sense that everything was done in front of Abe as it would be done in a real performance. In fact, the word dress has no sense, in that we were all stark-naked from the moment that the curtain rose on the first routine of anal copulation.
Abe expressed himself delighted with what he had seen; he predicted, accurately, as it fortunately turned out, that we would be a great success. It was decided that this innovative, live-sex act, which would set the Club apart from its competitors by a considerable margin, would be restricted to a once nightly performance, on three nights weekly, on which occasions a stiff obligatory cover-charge would be levied from each client. Abe had a list of name and addresses of his key regular clients and circulated them with the details of the Club’s new new act. With money no object to his normal clientele, he predicted a first-night sell-out, to people whose visual palates were sated by a surfeit of male-strippers and the like, and who were now in search of an evening’s entertainment, which would revivify their flagging, libidos suffering from visual atrophy.
Chapter 11
The fateful day had finally arrived, on which Cal and I, as principal protagonists, together with our co-performers, would launch ourselves into the world of hardcore, visual, sexual entertainment involving anal copulation onstage. Hitherto The Extreme Club had restricted itself to providing soft, visual sex, in the form of young, muscular, scantily clad waiters and similar, well-endowed studs as strip-tease artists on stage. It had been the first, plush place designed specifically to cater for the prurient minds of the sexually aware, super-rich of Beverly Hills, of which there were many.
Abe,with the chutzpah so often seen in Jewish businessmen, who have their hand on the pulse of the market, had dared to be the first to open a club initially designed to sell visual, hard-porn gay-sex to the super rich, just off the deluxe shopping-strip of Rodeo Drive, as distinct from in one of the less salubrious areas of greater LA. With The Extreme club, Abe Silverstein had blazed a trail, which many others had followed, seeing the super-rich of LA as a cash-cow just waiting to be milked in an environment which suited them.
The Extreme Club had been the first up-market club, located in an area in which the super-rich of LA did their over-priced shopping and could enter and find their kind people, among whom they felt comfortable. The fact that their minds were burgeoning with the same, sexual, prurient curiosity as were those of the hoi-polloi, with whom they were hesitant, if not loathe, to associate, cut no ice with them. The hoi-polloi could consider themselves as equal as they wished, just so long as they didn’t get too close to the gilded society, to which the super-rich considered they alone belonged.
In many ways the super-rich of LA were like Le Tout-Paris, (All Paris: the expression used to define the fashionable and affluent, old- money elite of the city, who frequented fashionable events and places, and established trends in upper-class culture.) In the same way the LA super-rich disdained the American hoi-polloi because of their lack of money, it is extremely doubtful if any member of Le Tout Paris, would have even given any member of the LA super-rich the time of day, even though the LA super-rich could have bought and sold the lot of them; lock, stock and barrel. For the French, it was not a matter of wealth, but of class, a quality they considered that most of the LA super-rich did not have; and, more importantly, could not buy. So in both Paris and LA, class distinction was alive and well freely accepted, for quite different reasons.
With the new hard-gay-porn live-sex show, The Extreme Club was set to be the first up-market place to offer the ultimate in visual, hard-core, gay-sex to the well-heeled, lascivious debauchees of every ilk, such as those voyeuristic, licentious members of the LA super-rich, of which there were more than you might think. Explicit live acts of anal copulation and fellatio would be performed on stage, by a group of mouth-wateringly attractive muscular, sexually well-equipped young men. As curiosity in sexual perversion does not recognise class distinctions, race or wealth, given such a unique opportunity to see live gay-sex on stage, had any such lecherous members of Le Tout-Paris been around, they would probably have forced themselves to eat humble pie and sit together with the social inferiors and enjoyed the show.
Not surprisingly the club was packed to capacity for what was to be the opening night of the ground breaking, first gay-live-sex show onstage in an up-market, gay night-club in LA. To say the very least, I suppose I should have felt nervous at what was to be my maiden appearance onstage, in a groundbreaking act. At the time the idea had been first mooted, I know I had questioned my capability to get my wayward cock to behave itself, rise to the occasion and play ball. However, now that the fatidic moment had arrived to show my paces, the simple fact of matter was that I did not feel at all nervous, as the exhibitionist side of my character ahd taken over and I was confident that everything would go as planned.
I know I have, elsewhere, fancifully talked about my cock as if it had a mind of its own, when in fact it was the automatic reflex of my own brain, subject to external, visual stimulation, which conditioned its reactions. Whatever one might say, a man’s penis is uncontrollable in that it always reflects what its owner actually wants at that moment. As, at times, self-gratification is inappropriate; a guy controls his sexual urge for action. But he cannot control his thoughts, which condition the state of his cock, which often embarrasses him by remaining stridently erect. Not for nothing is man’s penis referred to as his uncontrollable flesh. However, all such potential qualms had, for some reason, vanished, as I waited with the the live-sex team for our first entry onto the stage.
The three hard-sex scenes which are described below in some detail, are those in which which Cal and I, as stars of the show, played the key active roles As both he and I could not be expected to copulate non-stop on stage, the set-piece scenes, worked out and pre-rehearsed in the greatest detail, were interspersed with more conventional interludes of freestyle stripping and pairs of guys fucking and sucking each other in a more usual manner. But the three undoubted highlights of the evening were when Cal and I were on stage together, exercising our cocks on other guys’ asses or mouths, in a variety of detailed and finely choreographed tableaux of imaginative, live gay-sex before the audience.
The evening’s entertainment began, as usual, with a cavalcade of soft sex, by a group of luscious young male strippers, who aroused the sexual expectations of a very mixed audience which included quite few women, who obviously tried to imagine what it would be like to taste, literally and figuratively, the wares of the gorgeous hunks, who were displaying their all onstage. The curtain was then lowered to allow the stage to be set for the first act of the live-sex drama, which was to follow. In the interval, to the soft sound of erotic music, the quasi-naked bevy of young waiters busied themselves with replenishing the liquid refreshment of the audience. There was scarcely a table without a bottle, or quite frequently, a magnum of Dom Perignon champagne, which was the only brand the Club carried.
The lights in the room were lowered as the curtain rose on a pitch black stage. Quite suddenly, after a pause of a few seconds, intense spotlights suddenly focussed on a row of six sets of muscular, naked buttocks, just crying out to be fucked, facing the audience. The six members of the live-sex-team had been chosen from among many enthusiastic volunteers and were kneeling on a long low bench with a padded top and leaning against a table towards the back of the stage. Their legs were slightly spread allowing the audience to see their tight anal puckers, gleaming with lubricant, just waiting to be shafted by a pair of cocks supplied by Cal and me.
For the first scene, what had been decided was that Cal and I, as chief active protagonists of the evening, would both systematically shaft each of our six team members in turn. Cal would start at one end of row and progress towards the centre; I would do likewise starting at the other end of the six expectant asses. When met in the middle, Cal would continue and fuck each of the the three guys whom I had just serviced and I would do the the three he had just shafted. Thus each of the six guys would have had the pleasure of having his anus stretched by two different cocks to start of the evening of live sex.
Cal and I, who were the chief active protagonists for the entire evening, obviously could not fuck repetitively, even ourselves through to orgasm each time, let alone our multiple passive partners. So Cal and I had rehearsed this first scene until it was almost second nature for each of us to give our six passive partners, five strictly coordinated, full-length cock thrusts each time. I subsequently saw a video, shot by Abe, of Cal and me in the midst of our coordinated effort. Our two asses reciprocated as one, as we battered the anuses of the two guys we were then fucking. Although I say it myself, our whole opening performance was absolute triumph of synchronous, coordinated, anal copulation made possible by endless, repetitive practice.
Cal and I finished this first scene with a final monumental thrust of our rock-hard cocks into the anus of the guy at the opposite end of the six-man line-up to where we had each started. Each of our six team members had experienced a total of ten vigorous thrusts, bareback delivered by two different cocks to the persistent beat of pop music. After that final thrust, in which both Cal and I each left our cock deeply embedded in our final partner, before withdrawing and taking a full frontal naked bow, backed by the six studs whom we had just so so successfully fucked.
No two men, such as Cal and I, who were the two principal active protagonists in the three main scenes in the whole show, could be expected to conduct an entire evening of live sex involving vigorous, anal fucking on stage without being allowed a pause to enable them to recuperate before the next carnal onslaught. So each of the principal scenes, in which Cal and I appeared, were separated by quite lengthy pauses. Each time, the audience was regaled first by strippers, who strutted their stuff to the beat of the disco music. They were followed by three groups, each of two guys, who each proceeded to fuck each other through to orgasm, by the simple expedient of changing places, top to bottom, and repeating the routine.
So the audience was treated twice to the erotic spectacle of three sets of young buttocks attacking the asses of their partners. Needless to say the thrustings of the three tops were in unison and were coordinated with the beat of the the music, which was controlled by an experienced DJ. But in contradistinction to what Cal and I had just done, playing top to a sequence of six anuses, each stud of the pair functioned only once as top, before changing places with his bottom partner and allowing his own ass to be fucked. Thus, as each stud only actively fucked once as top, he was able to fuck himself through to his own orgasm inside his partner. So, the audience had the pleasure of seeing twice, before their very eyes, the top of three groups, of two, attractive, young, muscular, well-hung studs, fuck himself through to his own orgasm and dump his load into his bottom partner.
After each of the above, let us call them respite interludes, necessary for Cal and me to allow us to catch our breath, the curtain was again lowered to allow the dramatis personae for the next scene to assemble
on stage.
The curtain rose on the second, finely choreographed scene, in which Cal and I played the leading active roles, to reveal two groups of three magnificently set-up, naked young studs, the middle one of whom had one arm around the one shoulder of each of his companions. To an enormous round of applause, Cal and I came on naked to perform a sort of aerial fuck. We each, each took one of the middle studs, whose arms were already around the shoulders of his partners and hoisted his legs, one each over our own two shoulders, which resulted in his body being suspended in a curve, with that all important entry orifice, his anus, located at the lowest point. And then, in this fatuously ludicrous position, Cal and I each shafted our respective partner vertically, holding firmly onto his legs. This aerial fuck we did to each of the initial props, who successively took their places in the middle and offered, in turn, their anuses in to the pleasure of being fucked by Cal and me.
As we were each fucking only three guys in this scene, we gave the first two guys twelve full-length, coordinated thrusts of our our rock-hard boners. But on each of our third and final guys, we agreed we would both fuck him through to our own orgasm and ejaculate our loads into his rectum, By some phenomenal piece of luck, supplemented by hard practice, we both managed to climax simultaneously and with one final thrust, dumped our first loads of semen of the evening, deep inside our respective partner: always a satisfying outcome of anal intercourse for both giver and receiver.
Male-male copulation is never an elegant business, due to the inconvenient physical location of the vital parts of the male anatomy involved in its execution: the top’s cock and the bottom’s anus. Add to this the need of lubrication to render the whole operation as comfortable as possible for both participants and one might well ask why one ever bothers when one can achieve practically the same result by manual masturbation. Well the reason why one fucks is because most gay studs find it impossible to ignore the demands of human sexual attraction and the pleasure that body contact with the another like-minded male brings to both parties to the act. It does also seem to be a fact that an orgasm shared with another guy is more intense than one self-induced. Given the incredible feeling, which accompanies the moment of orgasm, that alone is probably a good reason to fuck someone, rather than to masturbate.
It is sad to think that many people, rich and poor alike, find they need to supplement their own sexual activities by watching others perform the act, which, not even by the most charitable of observers, could ever consider an elegant spectator sport. There are thousands of hard, pornographic web-sites, which offer highly detailed close-up, motion pictures of the anal sex act between males; but as with every entertainment, whether a play, a ballet, a football match or a motor race, seeing the event live adds another dimension to that of seeing it recorded; the observer participates in the thrill of seeing whatever it is, actually happen, which is totally missing from a recording; and And that is the reason for the enormous success of The Extreme Club. For the first time, it offered the experience to the audience of sharing visually in the sex act performed live on stage: an act, though visually banal, is, nevertheless, a major part of most people’s lives, whether homo or heterosexual.
Cal and I had both recognised that the basic acts of gay sex, one guy pushing his cock into another guy’s anus, or sucking his cock, were not, in themselves, enough to sustain a floor show. The clientele of the Club, in addition to satiating their prurient curiosity by seeing, before their very eyes, a group of well-set-up young males perform live the two basic sex acts, had also to be entertained. The Extreme Club had to put on a ground-breaking stage show based on the two fundamental acts of gay sex; anus fucking and cock sucking. It was realisation of the stark reality of the visual paucity and banality of the two basic gay sex acts that had led Cal and me to envisage and choreograph a series of imaginatively absurd routines based on the two fundamental acts of homosexual sex: anal fucking and fellatio.
The final pièce de resistance was a mind-bendingly intricate four man demonstration of the art of simultaneous anal and oral copulation. By virtue of having the largest the largest cock among the various protagonists, I myself played the star performing role in this amazingly erotic spectacle, for which a special, leather padded bench had been made. This bench was accompanied by built in a padded stool at one end, on which Ben, the stud we had chosen from many eager volunteers as the passive guy in the act, who was to be well and truly fucked, knelt. The curtain rose dramatically to reveal Ben, a handsome, muscular stud with a large cock, totally naked already I n place. He was kneeling on the stool prostrated with his torso face down across the top of the bench, with his very generous cock and balls dangling visibly accessible through a hole left in the top of the bench precisely for this purpose. His anus was, thus, perfectly positioned for penetration by the cock of the principal actor – in the event, me.
Cal and I, together with the Ryan, the fourth active stud of the group, all of us totally naked, made our entry onto the stage, to a thunderous round of applause. although the audience did not yet know it, we three, were all destined to play active roles in the realisation of what was to prove an almost unbelievable, phantasmagorical drama of live sex on stage, which, in its own way, was to prove almost as exciting as the gladiatorial combats of ancient Rome. I should emphasise that as the purpose of what we were doing was to entertain the clients and satisfy their voyeuristically prurient curiosity to observe homosexual sex acts, the bench on which Brian, the passive, fourth member of our team was already prostrated, awaiting our joint ministrations, was place side-ways on, to ensure that the audience could see everything that happened in real time.
As copulator in chief, so to speak, Cal and I had decided to heighten the dramatic theatricality of the occasion, that my twelve-inch boner – incidentally, the only active cock to be involved in anal sex in the act which was to follow – should be anointed with lubricant in full view of the audience. This simple, desirable act, necessary to facilitate anal intercourse had the effect of raising the status of my fuck-stick to a level of veneration reserved normally for the Holy Grail. The audience wet wild as another attractive young stud, gently massaged the lubricant onto my penis.
The audience went wild with enthusiasm at what they saw as preparation of my unbelievably large cock being prepared to penetrate the anus of the waiting Ben. They really had no idea at all of the complex sexual scene that they were about to see enacted before their before their very eyes.
Ryan first lay on his back, with his head supported by cushion, on a small purpose-built flat trolley, similar to those used by mechanics in a garage when they are working flat on their backs beneath an automobile. He then pushed himself underneath the bench, on which Ben was passively waiting. Ryan then took Ben’s cock, which was dangling there in thin air beneath the bench, into his mouth. Then Cal, went to the end of the bench, stood in front of Ben’s head and thrust his own cock, which was already stiff and primed for action was stiff and primed for action, into Ben’s mouth. I then completed the ensemble by driving, my twelve inches of well lubricated boner to the hilt into Ben’s fundamental orifice: his expectant anus.
The audience applauded loudly as they saw what was intended for Ben, who as the passive, key player in the present scene, was now completely immobilised. Ben’s two fundamental orifices were blocked; his anus was speared by my cock; his mouth had been forced to espouse Cal’s cock; and then, to cap it all, his own cock was led firmly in Ryan’s mouth. So effectively, Ben was like a chicken, trussed for the oven, totally incapable of helping himself. But there the analogy ended, as the audience was about to witness a never-before-seen, four-man, anal and fellatio fuck, in which all four participants would reached orgasm. I should tell you that the audience was about to see the first public performance of a highly erotic, hard-sex routine ,which the four of us Cal, Ryan, Ben and I, had practised times without number; and which, in spite of its physical complexity, we could all have performed in our sleep.
But now that the critical moment for action had arrived and we were about to give our maiden performance of what I considered to be a highly innovative act of live gay-sex on stage, I confess that in my role as principal copulator, on whose cock the eyes of the entire audience would be focussed, I felt a shiver of nervousness flash through my body as I stood behind Ben and prepared myself to penetrate his expectant anus. Everything else was already in place; Cal had already forced his cock into Ben’s mouth and was set to face fuck him; Ben’s own cock, hanging down below the bench, on which he was lying face-down, was already in Ryan’s mouth, waiting to be sucked off. Ryan lying there on his back, in addition to sucking Ben off, already had his hand on his own erect member, to give it some essential manual assistance, without which would not himself reach orgasm. All that remained was for me, as in my role of copulator-in- chief and mastermind behind the whole routine, was for me to get the show on the road, by sliding the full length of my twelve-inch boner into Ben’s anus. It was a scene which stretched the imagination beyond the real.
As I touched the tip of my cock against Ben’s anus, which had become a good friend by dint of endless rehearsals of the routine which we were now poised to unveil, any nervousness I had previously felt suddenly vanished. I suddenly was on top of the world, as I prepared to seriously strut my stuff in public for the very first time. I knew that the audience would never have seen the like of the four-man live sex show, which we were about to perform before them.
I flourished my twelve-inch boner in front of the audience, before, to the accompaniment of tremendous applause, gently thrusting my full length, in one smooth, uninterrupted movement, into Ben’s anus. At a sign from me, the DJ switched from the soft music, playing whilst we had taken our places on stage and had each readied our sex kit for the copulative masterpiece, which we were about to enact, to something more purposive, with a regular, audible beat. This enabled the three of us, Cal, Ryan and I, to coordinate our movements, as if one, in a the miracle of synchronisation, which we had practised repeatedly, until it had become akin to second nature for all three of us.
So here was Ben immobilised as completely as if he had been strapped down onto the bench. My own penis was up his ass; Cal’s erection was in his mouth; while his own cock, which had by now become totally aroused and stiff below the bench, was firmly imprisoned in Ryan’s mouth. And to add to the unreal aspect of Ben being well and truly fucked every which way, Ryan was additionally jerking himself off to the beat of the music. It was a scene, never before seen scene, which must have boggled the mind of everyone, who was observing it take place live, before their very eyes. This was gay group-sex, carried beyond the limits of anyone’s imagination.
The beat of the music to which we were synchronising our copulative movements, by arrangement with the DJ, had started slow, but then gradually increased in speed, as we, the three prime movers, became gradually sexually more aroused by what we were doing. It does appear to be a fact that even though one might begin any sexual in full possession of oneself, the moment inevitably arrives, when one loses control of one’s actions to the sex urge, to bring the act to its climax and experience fleeting pleasure of orgasm oneself, which is the ultimate aim of all sexual intercourse.
What we aiming to do, was for all four of us to achieve the goal of orgasm in the briefest of time frames. We had discounted the idea of achieving simultaneous orgasms for all four of us, as being pie in the sky: a completely unrealistic goal. So what we had had rehearsed many times was the best way for each of us individually to reach orgasm in a brief a time span as possible. Our aim, which we had achieved in rehearsal many times, was for one ejaculation of semen to erupt after the other, as in an aerial fireworks-display, when one shell after another bursts into the night sky thereby giving the impression of simultaneity.
So it was that in this, the first public airing of what was soon to become the talk of the the town and the signature routine of The Extreme Club’s unique live sex show, that Cal, who was actively deep-throat fucking Ben, was the first to climax. He shot his jism in a short series of generous, jerking, ejaculative loads, partly down Ben’s throat and partly all over his face, which finished up awash with Cal’s thick semen. Just a few seconds later Ben followed suit with his own climax, as Ryan, an expert in the cock-sucking style of fellatio, brought him to orgasm, in which Ben sprayed his load over Ryan’s face and the floor. However, Ryan had somehow miraculously succeeded in synchronising his own, hand-generated orgasm with Ben’s and deposited his enormous load of semen all over the floor, in series of almost explosive, ejaculative spurts accompanied by audibly murmured grunts of pleasure and relief, which orgasm often brings in its wake.
Ben, Cal and Ryan had all reached orgasm, with copious emissions of semen, all three within ten seconds, which was quite a remarkable achievement, given that three different guys were involved.
We had agreed during rehearsals that as I was the lead operator, the only man actually to be fucking Ben, I would hold myself back and and that my orgasm would be the climax and end the routine. All eyes were now focussed on me and my cock. I had zealously ensured that I, as sole, anal copulator, had provided the audience with a view of almost full length of my cock, each time I withdrew myself from Ben’s ass as I was fucking him. As time progressed, we all became ever more aroused and our movements increasingly frenetic and I found myself uncontrollably banging away at Ben ass, as if my life depended upon it. By the time Cal and Ryan had succeeded in bringing both themselves and Ben to orgasm, I was literally so sexually aroused that I was reaching the end of my tether on holding myself back from my own climax.
Once I saw that Cal and Ryan and completed their part and had both brought themselves and Ben to orgasm, I held myself back no longer. I completely withdrew my cock from Ben’s ass, held it for three seconds in thin air to allow the audience to see it, before plunging it back to the hilt into Ben’s anus, at great speed and with all the force I could muster. I immediately climaxed and dumped my load deep inside of Ben in a series of jerks.
But then, much to my, and I must say also to my co-copulators, extreme surprise, Ben’s body shook, as he quite unexpectedly and un-programmed, reached a second climax and ejaculated his second load of jism within a few moments, onto the floor. I take no personal credit for this serendipitous event, other than to say that it must have been conditioned by the vigorous attack, which I had visited on Ben’s ass to bring the routine to its dramatic close. Needless to say, the audience went wild with enthusiasm, as the four of us, Cal, Ben, Ryan and I, stood up, our cocks still hard and acknowledged the applause. I am proud to think that we four had effectively just performed what must be counted as the most erotic routine of gay sex ever performed onstage.
What happened next was that a number of strippers again came onto the stage and strutted their stuff to soft DJ music whilst the stage- hands mopped up the sticky mess left behind by us four, performing what had probably been the most erotic bareback routine ever.
This first ever show of live sex was brought to an exhilarating close, when ten of the strippers, including the four of us assembled on stage. This in itself was erotically quite something to behold: ten muscular, sexually well-equipped, handsome, young hunks, each sporting a sizeable erection, pointed directly at the audience. Each member of the team then allowed his cock to be lubricated by one of five assistants, each of whom anointed two cocks. This act in itself added an erotic touch to what was already an extremely erotic occasion. With our cocks duly lubricated for action, the ten of us then formed an unbroken penis-to-anus ring, with one guy’s penis thrust into the anus of the guy in front of him.
The soft music then gave way to a more strident note, with a persistent beat, to which the the ten of us began the reciprocating movement, which characterises the act of anal copulation. As the ten of us each repeatedly thrust and withdrew almost fully our penises from the anus in front of us, with the precise, mechanical synchronicity of a bicycle chain engaging with the sprockets of the drive-wheel, ten sets of buttocks controlled ten, rigid fuck-sticks so that they moved as one. As the beat of the music became ever faster and louder, we were each hard-fucking the anus of the man in front of us with our cock, whilst simultaneously having out own anus battered by the cock of the man behind us.
This glorious scene of group sex came to a sudden end as we each achieved orgasm by our individual copulative efforts on the anus in front of us. I wish I could tell you that we all climaxed at the same moment, achieving the unachievable: the simultaneous orgasm of ten guys. Alas, of course, we did not! We had searched for that holy grail of group sex, which is hard enough to achieve when there are just two guys copulating, but had not been able to find it.
However, the ever increasing speed of the beat, to which we were all thrusting and withdrawing, led all of us to ever more frenzied thrusting and sexual arousal. The result was that all ten of us reached our own self-induced climaxes within a time frame of fifteen or so seconds: if not quite ten simultaneous orgasms, a good second best. In rehearsal, we had agreed that when a guy could no longer hold himself back, he should withdraw himself from his bottom partner in front of him, whilst allowing is rear partner or partners, who might still not have reached the point of no return, to continue fucking to completion.
So what had commenced as a well synchronised, unbroken, ten-man, group-sex ring, united cock-to-anus, was, at climax, allowed to break into several smaller groups of two or three studs, each of whom was able to fuck himself to orgasm. It was an awesomely erotic sight to be able to witness ten, muscular, young studs, each with a sizeable, erect fuck-stick, shoot his load in quick succession partly into his partner’s rectum and partly onto the floor of the stage. The audience went wild, as in quick succession as in full view of everyone, ten, sexually very desirable, young men ejaculated their heavy loads of jism, thereby bringing The Extreme Club’s first performance of its new Live Sex Show to a successful conclusion.
Chapter 12
After the opening night of what was to prove the greatest draw ever to The Extreme Club, the place was full every evening, including those where we did not perform the live sex show. As I have already observed, the clientele had only one characteristic in common; it was composed only of wealthy people: the great and the good – and the not-so-good – of Beverly Hills. and greater LA. Other than their extreme and overt wealth and their willingness to spend it lavishly to entertain themselves, the clientele of the Club had little else in common. They were extremely diverse, ranging from the obviously rabid homosexual, to the connoisseur of the young, muscular, sexually well-endowed male-body, to those just out for an erotic night on the town. On my first visit to the Club, before I had started working there becoming its start attraction, I confess I was surprised to see a fair number of females in the audience, which brings me to the most surprising part of my story.
During the Live Sex Show, I had regularly noticed a well-set-up middle-aged woman, old enough to be my mother – or, even just possibly my grandmother, who seemed to have her admiring eyes permanently focussed on that part of my nether anatomy, my penis, which sets me apart from most other studs, muscular or not. The other surprising thing was that she always sat alone, in the front row, unaccompanied by anyone of either sex, apparently completely without embarrassment. She was a regular customer and was obviously fixated on me.
One evening, one of the waiters handed me a large, expensively engraved visiting card, identifying my hitherto silent admirer as Mrs. Amelia Vanderhof, who, even I, wet behind the ears when it came to naming the super-rich of LA, knew was one of the wealthiest women in Beverly Hills, if not in the entire USA.
On the back of the card was written; I have a proposition which might interest you. I will send my chauffeur to bring you to my house after the show tomorrow evening. It was signed Amelia D. Vanderhof, Obviously surprised to have received such an intriguing message from someone I did not know and to whom I had never even spoken, I showed the card to Cal and told him the next to nothing I knew about the writer. Cal raised both eyebrows and then, with that infuriatingly laconic grin on his face, which always annoyed me, said, laughingly: “If, as you say, she regularly ogles your cock, she has probably got the hots for you and wants you to fuck her.”
“Don’t talk such rot, Cal! The Extreme is a gay night-club and she must know that all the studs she sees on stage are gay and would never even look at a woman in that way, let alone go as far as having sex with one. Frankly, I find just the thought of having sex with any woman quite repulsive. Anyway this bird is old enough to be my mother. If I wanted to fuck a woman – which I definitely do not – I would choose someone nearer my own age. Just try to imagine what it might be like to fuck someone the same age as your mother; it would be completely disgusting; quite unthinkable.”
“No, no, no, Cal. It is quite definitely a non-starter for me. As I have just said; I do not want to fuck any woman at all. But if I did, then I repeat what I have just said; I would choose someone nearer to my own age; not someone who is old enough to be my mother. So, just in case I have not made my views clear, let me repeat what I had already said several times: I do not want now or ever in the future to fuck any woman at all.”
“Don’t be so emphatic, Tyler. You might be surprised, given the opportunity, even the most die-in-the-wool gay, as you claim yourself to be, might, on the spur of the moment, decide to seize an unexpected opportunity to satisfy his curiosity and confirm to himself, in a practical way, that he preferred men to women. Of course, it might cut the other way and make him realise what he had been missing by not fucking women. Given the excessive repetitiveness and vehemence of your views, I think that I detect an uncertainty on your part as to your true sexuality. So if the opportunity presented itself, it might just be as well for you to take the plunge and confirm, by committing the very act with a woman, that you do, in fact, prefer men to women. That way, you will erase any doubt in your mind you have concerning your sexuality.”
“Cal, I love you dearly; but, for some reason or other, you are just winding me up. I don’t, or didn’t, until you threw a spanner into the works just now, have any doubts at all about my sexuality. Just to make things quite clear; I DO NOT HAVE ANY DOUBTS ABOUT MY SEXUALITY. I am a homosexual man and always have been. I am gay, from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes. So kindly stop your shit stirring. And anyway, amore mio, we do not know if she wants to see me to make me a business proposition, which could have nothing to do with sex.”
“Tye, there are times when it is difficult to believe that your head is correctly screwed on; and this, my friend is one of them. You must have lost your marbles to think that this old bird, whoever she is, has invited you to her house to discuss business. She has seen you perform naked on stage; as sure as eggs is eggs, she wants to sample what she has seen. Get your feet firmly on the ground, Tye; she will want you to fuck her.”
“And why indeed should she not? You say that she always comes to the club and sits alone. One should not think that older people stop having sex after a certain age; most of them, most emphatically, do not. In spite of her wealth, she probably feels lonely and sexually neglected and sees you as an attractive, sexy, young guy with a big cock and fancies you; and let’s face it, Tye; you are, without doubt, a super-attractive, sexy young stud, with a cock to die for, whom many women would welcome into their bed.”
“Tye, at the Club, we sell the young, glamorous face of gay sex to an audience, which is, on average, much older than we are, as that is what they want to see. It turns them on sexually: it gets their juices running, as they probably imagine themselves looking as good as we do on stage when they are fucking their partners; and that goes equally for male-male and male-female relationships. Make no mistake; to coin a phrase, Tye; this dame’s intentions are definitely not honourable; she’s seen your dick and wants to sample it. I bet you a dollar to a dime; the lady is going to ask you to fuck her.”
“And if you are right, Cal, and I am invited as as a sort of rent-boy for the evening and if, as you evidently think likely, I do compromise myself and succumb to her charms and agree to fuck her, how would you feel about our relationship; would you feel that I had betrayed you or what?”
“I would feel vindicated that my take on the situation had been correct and that you had finally satisfied your curiosity and confirmed to yourself, what I already know to be true, which is that you, Tyler Blaze, are exactly like me. You, my dear sir, are an out-and-out gay, as am I, who has no sexual interest in women, however beautiful they might be. If you think for a moment that I would allow a flea bite of one minor sexual deviation from the straight and narrow of our monogamous relationship, to destroy what we enjoy together, then you are barking up the wrong tree and had better think again.”
“You see, Tye, I know from the way we make love to each other, as we frequently do, that our relationship is as solid as a rock. Note that I said make love, rather than fuck or have sex together, as that is precisely what we do; we make love as distinct from just having anal and oral sex together. In a very short time, you and I have developed a very unique relationship together, in which we are very much equal partners, not only sex partners, but in life. Simply put, I believe we were meant for each other and fated to meet that day in Bakersfield and fall in love.”
“So go ahead and meet this lady and fuck her, as I predict you will, if can shelve your abhorrence of even contemplating fucking a member of the female sex long enough to perform the act. That way you will satisfy yourself, when the chips are finally down, that you did not missed out by not fucking your female classmates, whilst still at school, as I am sure many of your male contemporaries did. Tye, go ahead and meet this wealthy lady. Who knows? Perhaps she will offer you a small fortune to become her lap-dog. But I am quite sure that once the dust has settled, you and I will still be together and you will be content with our status as a fully paid-up member of the gay-male community.”
“Cal, I don’t know how can be so sure of yourself. The scenario you have thought up is all a figment of your imagination. I don’t know when – or even, if – the propose meeting will take place.”
“Tyler, just accept that my view is that this dame has got her sexual sights fixed upon you and that she will not let you escape: But we shall see; I may be proved wrong.”
Chapter 13
Cal’s observations had both disturbed and pleased me. Disturbed me, because he had foreseen a scenario, in which I had sex with a female, an act, which filled me with horror just at the thought. He had put his finger on a very critical point, when had said: “If you can shelve your abhorrence of even contemplating fucking a member of the female sex long enough to perform the act.” As a confirmed and practising gay young man, I recoiled with horror, just at the thought of having sex with any woman, even one whose company I enjoyed and liked personally, no matter now beautiful. As a confirmed homosexual man, I view having sex with a woman, with the same nauseating repugnance, in which most heterosexual men view – or or at least claim they do – having sex with another man.
But Cal had, at same time, also pleased me, because he had uttered the most positive unequivocal declaration of his love for me ever and given me his blessing to fuck Mrs. Amelia Vanderhof, if indeed he was right about her designs on me, describing the act as flea bite. Of course neither of us knew if this would ever happen, or even if Mrs. Vanderhof invitation to see her was sexually motivated. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that Cal was probably right and that she would invite me to have sex with her, an act which basically filled me with foreboding. However, Cal had been right when he had said that I was curious and that if the opportunity arose, I knew I would satisfy my curiosity.
I confess that I did not sleep much that night thinking about what might happen. I asked myself, if push did ever actually come to shove with Mrs. Vanderhof, if that uncontrollable piece of flesh between my legs, which was what obviously attracted me to her, refused to rise to the occasion and left me high and dry, so to speak; not to mention highly embarrassed into the bargain.
I had not responded to Mrs. Vanderhof’s first message, which I had only received the previous evening. However, when Cal and I arrived at the Club next evening, I found another note from Mrs. Vanderhof awaiting me, this time typed on expensive stationery, addressed to me formally as Mr. Tyler Blaze. Evidently she had enquired after my surname, as all the photographic publicity outside the Club identified all of us performers only by our first names. She informed me that her chauffeur: “Would be waiting at midnight in front of the Club to drive me to her residence.”
I was struck by the use of the word residence, so beloved by realtors, who qualify every property that they are attempting to sell as a desirable residence, rather than referring to it as a house or apartment which said something about the lofty mind-set of Mrs. Vanderhof. She also had presumed that the proposed time for the meeting was convenient for me, giving her message a somewhat imperious note, as if it were a command, rather than confirming a mutual pre-arranged appointment, which did not exist; evidently she just assumed that I would be there.
I showed that note to Cal, who observed that the lady was clearly intent on sleeping with me. He made the valid point that one did not normally conduct business meetings at midnight. “I told you,” he said, “The old bird has got the hots for you and will have you in bed with her before you have had time to refuse. But then, if I am right, which I think I probably am, you are not going to refuse her, as in spite of your inbuilt repugnance as a gay man to having sex with a woman you are curious to see what it feels like. Believe me, Tye, if you allow the chauffeur to take you to her, you will be as putty in her hands. She’ll have your cock, which believe me, Tye, is what she wants, before you can say Jack Robinson.”
“If you want to, go ahead and see her, which I am sure you have already made up your mind to do, as you are also flattered at being singled out from the rest of us as someone special, which you don’t need me to tell you is something, false modesty aside, be both already know that you are. The old dame will have you by the balls in a brace of shakes and will, in all probability literally and figuratively suck you dry before discarding you like a wrung-out dish cloth. So don’t say that you have not been warned when you come back to me, with your tail limp between your legs, looking for sympathy.”
I laughingly replied: “There are times, Cal, when you are full of shit and this is one of them. So kindly piss off.”
Sure enough, when I emerged from the Club just after midnight, I found that nec plus ultra of conveyances, an enormous, custom-built, chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce, waiting to take me to me fate. Needless to say, the chauffeur was in livery. Mrs Vanderhof clearly did things in style. I, who did not even know how to drive a car, sat in isolated splendour in the back, suddenly feeling more alone than I had ever felt in my life, for the ten minute ride, which took me to Mrs. Vanderhof’s house, where if Cal’s predictions were to prove correct I would meet my sexual Waterloo, The house, or rather, the mansion, was absolutely enormous, but relatively restrained for Beverly Hills, which is littered with huge properties in the most diversely varied of architectural styles.
As I approached the front door, it was opened by a handsome, youngish butler – Mrs. Vanderhof obviously had a taste for attractive- looking young men – wearing the immaculately cut formal attire of the office of over half a century ago. He welcomed me formally, saying: “Good evening, sir; Madame is awaiting your arrival on the second floor.” He then led me upstairs via a staircase, which could have graced a royal palace somewhere in Europe, which knowing Americans’ penchant for buying-up authentic European artefacts of the past of the and installing their own houses, it might well have done, opened a pair of ornate double doors, and formally announced me to Madame, as if I were visiting royalty. “Mr. Tyler Blaze Madame.” he then left me standing there, as he withdrew and closed the doors behind him, leaving me in the presence of Madame: Mrs.
Amelia D Vanderhof.
I had never actually spoken to Mrs. Vanderhof, having only seen her a few times at the Club; but I had noticed her intense gaze fixed on me, or more precisely on my cock, during my live sex performance on stage. I had no idea of how to address her, especially after the somewhat intimidating formal manner of the butler. So I adopted the usual respectful language of obeisance of young Americans of both sexes, but more especially males, when addressing their female elders. Mrs. Vanderhof was lounging on what I later learned was called a chaise longue. I advance towards her and said: “Good evening, ma’am. From your messages, I understand that you wished to see me.”
I realised looking closely at her for the first time, reclining there wearing and almost transparent negligee, which in upper class terms is called a peignoir, that I was the presence of a middle-aged – fifty at a guess – good looking woman, who took care of her body and was not averse to flaunting it before newcomers. My first real shock – others were to follow – was when she first spoke. Given the sumptuousness surroundings in which she lived and the obvious wealth, her voice was quite jarring. It was a voice which was more suited to someone from some hick neighbourhood of Chicago, Illinois than to the heiress to banking fortune, living like a queen in Beverly Hills, California. It had all the attractive of the sound of a nail being slowly dragged across the teeth of a wood saw.
“Quite right, Mr. Blaze, I did want to see you; or may I call you Tyler? By the way, you can drop the ma’am bit and call me Daisy, my middle name, which is what my friends call me, as I hate obsequiousness, especially in a hunk so young and sexually attractive as you, Tyler.”
I gulped at her directness. From her opening remarks, as Cal had predicted, she obviously had designs on my body.
“Tyler, I believe in coming directly to the point. You must have noticed that I often sit in the front row at the Extreme Club and watch you and your team perform your live sex act on stage. I confess that my eyes are fixed on you, as you must have realised that with your magnificent body, not to mention your quite exceptional sexual endowment that you are the star of them show.”
By this time, she must have seen that I was ready to crawl up the wall with embarrassment, but she continued with her frank remarks, which made what she wanted from me, which was exactly what Cal had predicted, abundantly clear.
“Some people might think that a woman of my age, is too old for sex; In my case they would be quite wrong; believe me, Tyler, in spite of being fifty years old, I still have the sexual appetite of the girl of eighteen, who married Cornelius Vanderhof, then 27 years older than me. And so, since the death of my dear Cornelius, I have lived here alone. My husband, who died suddenly, aged 75, of a heart attack, in my arms, was to the absolute end, everything that the sexually motivated woman, which I freely admit I am, could ever have wished for. On his death, as we had no children, I became outright owner of the private bank, Vanderhof & Co, founded by my husband’s grandfather, which as you can see, provides me with a life style which many envy.”
“However, I confess that living here alone, without the man I loved through 30 years of marriage by my side, I have felt rather lonely and have, from time to time, sought comfort and solace in the arms of other men. From the moment I first saw you perform on stage at the Extreme Club, I was immediately attracted to you, as I realised that you were a totally extraordinary and experienced young man, which is why I decided to invite you here tonight. Now, in the light of what you do for a living, together with what I have just told you about myself, I don’t think I need spell out the reasons for this meeting.”
Too bloody true, I thought to myself. Cal was dead right about her wanting me to fuck her. But what he had not known, at the time he made his prediction, was what I had just learned now, directly from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, that the stinking rich Mrs. Amelia Daisy Vanderhof, was in all probability a middle-aged nymphomaniac. I though over what she had just told me. Her husband, with whom, in spite of a considerable disparity in their ages, she had had regular sex, had obviously had as great a libido as his wife. Reading between the lines of her account of his sudden death in her arms, I was as sure as anyone could be that they had been having sex, when the fatal attack had occurred.
But I had to face up to the rather delicate situation in which I now found myself, due entirely to my having accepted her invitation. Well, push had now come to shove with a vengeance and I desperately wanted some way out. What our brief acquaintance had taught me, quite unequivocally, was that I, a diehard, totally committed homosexual, had not the slightest interest in having sex with Daisy, or for that matter, with any other member of the female sex. I simply was not programmed nature that way. Looking at a female, even one who had come on to me, as Daisy had just done, did not turn me on in any way. My cock, that ever faithful and oft embarrassing indicator of my sexual arousal, had shown not the slightest sign of stirring.
But I had to respond to Daisy’s proposal, so I said, putting things as as delicately as I cood to avoid giving offence: “Ma’am,” ahem, “I mean Daisy; I am of course flattered by your compliments, but if I might be permitted to draw your attention to a fact, which you might just possibly have overlooked, I, together with the rest of the guys, whom you have admired performing onstage at the Extreme Club, are all practising homosexuals. As such we tend to have sex only with other men, both in our professional and private lives. It is the prospect of having sex with another male which arouses guys like me, just as it is the prospect of having sex with a female that arouses a heterosexual male. We are just programmed by nature differently; that’s all.”
What I did not spell out to her, was that most homosexual men, including me, view having sex with a female with the same degree of horror and disgust as most heterosexual men – at least they profess to do – when they think of two men having anal or oral sex together. They think of buggery as an unnatural perversion, whereas we homosexuals consider it as completely normal. In spite of changes in the law, the attitude today although often unspoken, still persists that homosexual acts, although not now illegal are, nevertheless, not normal. But then, if you think about it, neither are most heterosexual acts normal. If one considers that sex is the means of propagation of the species, most sex between men and women is for pleasure. So I think that the aversion to homosexual sex is hypocritical and is a case of the pot calling the kettle black.
If I had hoped that my remarks about all the Club performers being homosexual men would deflect Daisy from her goal, I was sadly mistaken as she said: “I fully understand that being gay as you are, that you are basically aroused only by the sight of other men and the prospect of having sex with them. However, I thought possibly if I offered you a little incentive you might be able – how can I put it tactfully? – to raise your flag and astound me with your ardour. If you cast your eyes onto that table over there, you will see a little pile of $100 bills; there are ten in all, totalling $1000, which may encourage you to reconsider your position.”
“What I suggest you do, whilst I prepare myself for our union, is that you move to the adjoining room and relax for half an hour. You will find a packet of Viagra there, a sex aid with which you are probably familiar. I suggest you take one immediately. Within half an hour, I think you will find that any earlier inhibitions you may have had as a gay, about having sex with a woman, have disappeared.”
I realised then that the old bird was really desperate to have sex with me, for which pleasure she was prepared to pay me $1000 to prostitute myself. Did she not realise that guys like me, with or without Viagra, were just not turned on by the prospect of fucking a woman. I would not even have been interested in fucking the most beautiful and sexually attractive young nymph in the world, let alone an apparently sex-starved nymphomaniac old enough to be my mother.
The prospect of $1000 cash did nothing to encourage me; indeed, quite the opposite. She had presumed, with her tremendous wealth, to be able to buy my services, which were definitely not now, and never would be, for sale. If I had been able, which, in the light of my cock’s adamant refusal to play ball, I now knew I was not, I would have fucked her, free, gratis and for nothing, as I had kind of taken a liking to the lady. But I now knew for certain that no female, however attractive, would ever arouse me sexually. I was a congenital, dyed-in-the-wool homosexual and nothing would ever change that fact. My sex life would always be with other men.
But I saw no reason to offend Daisy, by telling her that it was no go, from the word go; and so I went along with her suggestion and took one tablet of Viagra and waited and waited and waited for it to take effect. I was mightily relieved, when, half an hour later, the miracle product, which had been trumpeted as the the great white hope of many men, who could not as the saying goes, get it up, had had absolutely no effect on the state of my penis, which remained defiantly flaccid.
I suddenly saw that Viagra did exactly what it was billed to do: it corrected erectile dysfunction, but had no effect on a guy’s libido. Evidently, to be effective, the taker of Viagra had to desire to have sex with the object, male or female, of his immediate attention. Viagra then corrected a physiological insufficiency in the taker. However, as I had no desire whatsoever to have sex with Daisy or any other female, the Viagra had had no effect on the state of my cock. At least, rightly or wrongly, that is how I explained to myself my non-reaction to the product.
I figuratively saluted my penis, which, all too often embarrassed me, by trumpeting my readiness for sex when I would have preferred it to have remained silent. But, on the present occasion, it showed its reliability in reflecting the true state of my libido, by remaining resolutely flaccid. I heaved in internal sigh of relief that my dick, as ever faithfully reflecting my state of arousal – at present nil – had refused to budge, allowing me to tell Daisy, quite truthfully, that all her efforts had been in vain and that I was physiologically unable to fulfil her carnal wishes.
She initially received the news that I was incapable of performing, as if I had announced that the end of the world was nigh. But then she calmed down, recomposed herself, and became extremely gracious in the face of her disappointment, saying: “Tyler, I owe you an apology; I must have been out of my mind to have got you here on a fool’s errand in the first place. I knew that you and your companions at the Club were all gay. I should have had more sense to think that $1000 would persuade a leopard to change its spots. I now realise it was crass of me to offer you money for sex; it was insulting to you, as I was relegating you to the ranks of a rent boy, a male prostitute, which you are certainly not.”
“Although I regularly see you perform at the Club, I know that there is great deal of difference between what you do professionally on stage and a guy selling himself for sex to people like me. You and your co-workers at the Club have elevated gay sex almost to an art form. What you do on stage is very different from prostituting your undoubted talents. Anyway, take the money in compensation for the embarrassment I have caused you. I see now that I was stupid in thinking that I could bend you to my wishes, as you are really an admirable young man who is true to his sexuality. East its east and west is west and never the twain shall meet. I see now that it was pie in the sky, thinking that by offering you money I could change what is, in fact, your nature.”
“So put put your clothes back on, pocket the money and I will summon my chauffeur to take you home. But before we part, let me just add that you are, without doubt, the most handsome and sexually desirable young man I have ever seen and I am contented with having had the privilege of a private viewing of your assets. If you live together with someone, as I hope you do – and it has got to be another man, in light of our discussion – then tell him from me, he is lucky to have you.”
I was completely touched by Daisy’s gracious acceptance of the fact that, with the best will in the world, I was unable to oblige her. In fact, at that very moment, if there had been any way of galvanising my cock into action, in spite of my inbuilt horror of having sex with a woman, I would have fucked her there and then.
“Daisy… Ma’am, I am extremely sorry that things have not worked out as you had hoped and that I have not been able to serve you. It is kind of you to offer me $1000 for doing nothing more than meet you and swallow one Viagra tablet, and so I must respectfully decline to accept your generous offer. If I might add just one thing; had things worked out differently and had I been able to serve you as you had hoped, I would, nevertheless, not have accepted payment for my services, as to do so would have would have introduced a sordid financial note into what, I am sure, had I been able to rise to the occasion, would have been a highly agreeable and intimate occasion together.”
In retrospect, I regretted making that last remark, which was vaguely critical, in that in offering me $1000 for my services, she had already reduced me to the status of a prostitute. But I had said it and it could not now be unsaid. It was a mild rebuke, but I did not want to hurt her feelings. Anyway, we parted friends, by my giving her a peck on each cheek; quite frankly, that was as intimate as I had ever got with a woman in my life.
It was four in the morning by the time I arrived back to the apartment, but Cal was agog to hear how my meeting with Mrs. Vanderhof had gone. After I had told him all, in the minutest of detail he said: “Well we now you know where you stand in the sex stakes; your affiliation to the gay community of California is no longer in doubt. So, if you feel up to it and still find me sufficiently attractive to make the effort for, let’s fuck.”
We did just that!
To paraphrase the ending of the classic fairy tale: And they fucked together happily ever after.
The End