Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

[Editor's note: The writer of the following letters is one of the most credible of all the STH writers; he does not write slick porn but ragged reality, with all its imperfections, awkwardness, and unpredictable turns. Although writing is not his profession, he does a better job of portraying reality than most writers do. --B. McD.]

New York-- From time to time, my loneliness has been so intense that I have taken risks that I shouldn't have. When I'm feeling desperate, I usually go to a pornographic theater which has dancing boys. Unlike the Gaiety, this theater has little class (not that the Gaiety has much). Twice a night, the dancers put on a short, perfunctory show that lasts no more than 30 minutes. The rest of the time they aggressively solicit the customers while porno flicks are shown on the screen.

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I've learned to say "no" to these boys in a clear way that makes them leave me alone. But on this occasion I wasn't sure that I wanted to say no.

One of the dancers was a particularly attractive and graceful young man who danced in a way that was natural and sexy. His cock also looked big in his bikini briefs, especially when he worked it up to an erection during his dance.

I had said "no" to him earlier in the evening, but later, as he passed me in the aisle, I stopped him to ask what I would get for his $50 fee. He asked me what I liked to do and I said sucking, and he said that would be fine.

I said I'd think about it and continued watching them vie.

This boy turned out to be very smart. Five minutes later he returned to my seat with his shorts pulled down over his crotch, displaying a full hard on, and told me I could have it for 40. I groped his large cock and couldn't say no.

We went down to the basement to a small, unkempt room. He removed his clothes quickly. It was obvious that he liked being naked and was looking forward to my attentions. Also, I was probably better-looking than his average john, being a youngish 40. I stood in front of him and tenderly felt his body, rubbing my hands over his arms, torso, and buttocks. His cock, which had shrunk on the way down to the room, grew to a hard meaty 8" with several well-placed veins. In fact his thick meaty cock was an exciting contrast to his slender body. He was uncut but the skin was short and could be pulled back onto the shaft.

He clearly enjoyed the roaming of my hands. By the time I knelt and took his cock in my mouth, it was very stiff. I think that he appreciated the fact that I had some finesse.

I gave him my best blow job. Knowing that he was a professional, I didn't want to bore him. I mixed up the rhythm, using gentle pressure and then hard pressure, sucking him slow and then fast. I massaged his halls and the base of his dick while I sucked and I also licked his balls.

Perhaps because I was paying him and could have my way with him I enjoyed the event tremendously.

As I sucked, he stroked my head and hair. After about 10 minutes his body sort of collapsed over me and he came in my mouth. I swallowed. Afterward he commented that he wasn't supposed to cum with his customers.

His name was Leo. We talked a bit and he told me, in broken English that he had emigrated from Brazil only three months earlier In Brazil he had done the same work. He seemed to be a nice boy with a street personality.

I continued to stroke his body for a while and we gave each other a couple of hugs. The sex had ended much too quickly, though I toyed with the idea of hiring him for an afternoon but when I learned it would cost me $200, I decided not. If he had said $100 I might have jumped at the chance.

The evening didn't have a great ending. His cock only whetted my appetite for more and I ended up cruising the theater for several hours, feeling lonelier than over. He was there, but I couldn't touch him again unless I paid him. I hoped he might give me a few more moments with him but I knew that those were silly thoughts. The fact that I couldn't touch him again made me realize that we'd only had a momentary business deal and nothing more. I left there feeling cold and empty.

I had another hot experience with a stranger that also left me feeling cold, this time in a back room. I was cruising the aisle in the Westway theater on a fairly busy weekend night. There was a young, handsome black man standing in the crowd. I groped him and he was receptive, which surprised me because he was so much younger and better-looking than I. We ended up having sex for about 45 minutes, standing up. His cock was long and thick and immensely satisfying. Even more, we kissed passionately as if we were lovers. I repeatedly asked him to come home with me, but he refused.

Toward the end of the 45 minutes he tried to draw another man into our activities, which I didn't like.

After a while, I told him I needed a break. Once I walked away from him, he treated me like a stranger for the rest of the evening, as if we hadn't met. I felt crushed.

I realized then how lonely I was for companionship; my feelings could be hurt by a total stranger. I also realized that back rooms were the wrong place to look for love. That experience turned me off from back rooms for a while.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.