Hitting The Mats

After I had fashioned my basement into a playroom, I wanted to include a makeshift wrestling ring. Rick, as it turned out, was pretty good at drawing up blueprints as well as working with a band saw...so in the matter of about three weeks, we managed to quarter off part of the basement with an elevated squared-circle complete with turnbuckles.

Rick and I tested out the ring a few times; and not only did it stand up to body slams and suplexes, the mat itself was perfect for some post match action. Frankly, the sight of Rick in boots and a form fitting pair of tights always made me weak in the knees, so the little fucker actually won a few matches by default because I could not wait to rip his trunks off and fuck him. Shit, I'd let him pin me if it meant I could violate him later!

This one time, Andy, dropped by, he'd met Rick before, and they got along great, and I showed him the playroom. His eyes grew wide with anticipation when he saw the ring and he said, "So let's wrestle! Man it's been ages since I've hit the mats."

I decided that we might want a fourth, maybe get into to some tag-team action, so I phoned my fuck buddy, Van, who was always up for a little fun. Truth be told, it would be less a tag match and more a squash job if Van was involved. I filled in Andy and Rick on how we'd play this. Van was a hot guy, and he had a great body, but he liked to be manhandled. Rick was aware of this as the two of us had on more than one occasion had Van over for some three ways, and the third man out was always our bottom boy...he craved being used, and I understood why; you see, Van was currently running a social service agency and was in charge of everything. Nothing got past him, and he ran that place with such finesse that he'd already been cited by the Governor for several awards... he was a take-charge guy in all aspects of his highly regarded work life: but when it came to carnal matters, he liked someone else to do the driving, and that was cool in my book.

Before Van had even arrived, Andy and Rick were already in the ring going at it. Good god, watching these two studs go at it kept my cock at full fucking staff. While Andy was stronger, Rick had youth and stamina on his side. Still, the guys were pretty evenly matched, and while they kept switching headlocks on each other, I noticed that they both sported hardons.

When they fell to the mat, they each tried to dry hump the other's ass. I found myself stoking my own cock when Andy got Rick in a choke hold and reached down into his tights and began squeezing his nuts. Rick cursed him out, and then shocked both me and his opponent by breaking free of the hold and reversing the situation by straddling Andy in a school boy pin and rubbing his crotch on his face...that's when I jumped into the ring and broke them up...they both tried to put up a fight but I manged to pin them both down and told them to save something for the main event...what the fuck, I could have screwed them both right there and have been happy. Nonetheless I subdued them with a double choke hold until they both cried, "Uncle" and then I broke the hold and helped them up. That's when I heard the doorbell ringing upstairs.

Van was wearing a tight pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt with his college's name emblazoned on it. I let him in and we paused in the living room. He looked slightly apprehensive, so I decided to break the ice by grabbing his crotch and pushing him up against the living room wall and said, "Glad you could make it brother, you ready for some fun". I watched as a smile crept across his handsome face, and felt his cock swell through his pants. I held him against the wall for a moment more and then smiled back as I squeezed his bulge, "That's what I'm talkin' bout" I said letting him go and showing him to the basement.


Van and I wasted no time getting into it. We entered the ring and locked up wearing jeans and t-shirts. It did not take long for me to overpower him, and I guess I was sort of hoping he'd put up a struggle, but he really didn't. I pinned him flat in seconds and then gave him a playful, but sharp smack on his ass...I then motioned Andy and Rick over and said, "Strip him down boys!"

Immediately, they both attacked Van, tearing at his clothes while I stood in the center of the ring watching. Van feigned that he was putting up a fight, but he was digging it. When his shirt was discarded, revealing a well muscled chest with pumped up pecs and rock hard nipples, Andy wasted no time pinning his arms behind his back, while Rick undid his jeans. He was wearing a blindingly white pair of tights that accentuated his firm hot ass, as well as his bulge.

Now I stripped down. I wore black wrestling briefs and had black leather wrist guards and a pair of well worn boots that Chris have given me years ago. Then I stood on the lip of the ring and watched the action...

...Andy with his well toned, compact body. His broad shoulders and well developed physique a testament to his New York lifestyle, his hair cut in a conservative manner...a far cry from the skinny hippie kid I knew back in high school...

... Rick tall and lean, with what they used to call a "swimmers build", his bubble butt encased in those form fitting tights, also black, his reddish/brown hair, which he had let grow out, gave him the look of boyish bohemian...

... Van, built like me. Tall, husky, a nice carpet of light fur on his chest, a head full of dirty blond, curly hair, a slight beard that gave him a lion-like appearance...and that ass of his, the one poured into those tight white shorts...I could not wait to make him submit and fuck him...

The boys were still double teaming Van, they had him down on the mat, Andy was choking him with his legs, while Rick was scissoring his chest with his legs ... I could see Van was sporting a major woody while taking the punishment like a man, and that really turned me on.

They continued, Andy being the one who was really going to leave Van hurting come tomorrow morning...at one point he actually lifted him off the mat and into the air(some feat considering that Van must have outweighed him by at least fifty pounds), and then dropped him flat before leaping onto him, crashing his left knee into Van's gut. Of course, this did not surprise me as Andy (like me) learned from the best...hell, Chris had turned us all into pseudo pro wrestlers... nonetheless, I was glad to see Rick manage to get Van into a figure four and actually make him plead for mercy; I leaned over the top rope and high fived my guy for that...then I tagged in.

Rick and Andy left Van crumpled on the mat at my feet. As they climbed outside to wait on the lip of the ring, I reached down and lifted Van up by the back of his trunks and said, "OK pal, fun's just begun" and I flipped him to face me and got my arms around him and put him in a bear hug. He threw his head back and gasped for air... I could hear Andy and Rick howling from the sidelines in approval. I shifted his weight again, and crushed him even harder, bringing my arms around as tight as I could until I felt him go limp and fall onto me like a puppet...his cock being the only part of him that seemed alert and ready for action.

I let go of home, and he fell to the mat. I then reached down and lifted him back up by his hair, and quickly got him into a side-headlock. I applied as much pressure as I could, my bicep crushing the side of his head...I walked him around the ring and taunted him, all the while grinding his head with my arm. Letting go of him for a minute, he looked around, dazed, his face flushed red, and then I locked both of his arms in mine from the back and shoved him over to my boys.

Rick to the opportunity to give him a quick chop to the chest, while Andy, who was barefoot, brought his left heel up and connected with Van's groin; he doubled over in pain, falling into the ropes and this set Rick and Andy into motion as they began pummeling him with cheap shots...I held Van secure and then pulled his head back again, at which point, Rick grabbed his nipples and gave them a quick tweak followed by a double punch to his meaty pecs...then I let him go and tagged in Rick who flipped across the rope with the grace of Jimmy Snauka and began bouncing around Van, throwing punches and slaps until he finally tripped up the big guy. Rick dove on-top of him now and threw an iron claw deep into Van's stomach causing him to howl in pain.

I stood on the lip and causally draped my arm around Andy, the both of us sweaty and charged, and my old buddy said, "That boy of yours is something else, man. He sure likes to mix it up!" I nodded and smiled and Andy put his arm around my shoulder and we stood there cheering on the tough little red-head who was putting a world of hurt on his opponent.

When Rick tagged in Andy, Van was treated to a host of leg splits, and hammer-locks...finally, Andy scoped him up and following my lead, put him in a bear hug. It was hot watching the little muscular stud, crush the bigger beefier guy...my cock was so hard now, it actually hurt, I cheered on my buddy and Rick yelled out, "Fuck him up, man!" Van threw his head back again in pain and pleaded for mercy, but Andy was not giving in, "You like it, bitch, don't ya?" he taunted through gritted teeth, and then Van yelled, no actually he screamed, "I GIVE! I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE!" ... so Andy tightened the hold and made it last for at least twenty more seconds until he finally let go of Van, who fell to the mat like a sack of potatoes.

Andy stood on-top of his victim and flexed once for Rick and I, and we cheered him on... and then we joined him in the ring and started kicking at Van, we asked him if wanted a rematch, Rick pulled me aside, his eyes filled with an almost an malevolent look of glee and said, "One more time, daddy, I want to hear him beg, one more time..." So I yanked Van up and once more put him into another bear hug, crushing him in my arms; Rick laughed, a dark deep chuckle and while I was punishing the beaten bottom boy, I noted that his cock was still as hard as a rock. Finally he submitted again, and again, he was dropped to the mat... and in a matter of seconds the three of us had our tights off, and were standing around the fallen stroking our cocks planning our next move...

**********

I was first, I made myself comfortable, resting my back against the mat's turnbuckle and lifted Van's head by yanking him up by his hair...there were no words as he opened his mouth and went down on my throbbing cock. He sucked me in that familiar desperate way of his...I know this may sound funny, in light of what we just put him through, but I really liked Van, he was a great guy, and these games we played with him were something he dug, and I wanted him to be happy and I wanted to share this brotherhood with him, I knew he liked being used and he liked being roughed-up, and it was cool, it was all consensual, and there were no complaints...

that said...

...as he sucked me off, Rick slipped on a condom and started fucking his ass. Andy was on his knees next to Rick urging him to go deeper, when he kissed Rick , I almost shot my load into Van's mouth, it was that fucking hot...my best buddy and my lover making out; I shoved my cock deeper into Van's mouth and he sucked me off with a wild abandon... a few minutes later, we shifted, Now Andy was getting head from Van while Rick continued fucking Van's ass. I moved behind my lover and the sight of his beautiful ass going up and down was more than I could take, so I slipped into him and we chain fucked...I looked up and my eyes met Andy, and he winked at me and the three of us pumped and fucked at Van until we switched off again...

...now we had Van on his back and I was deep in him, pounding him for all I was worth. Rick crouched down over his face and leaned in and played with my tits while I fucked. I heard him tell Van to "Eat me out, bitch", and I watched as Rick's face morphed into a million faces of pleasure...I leaned forward and kissed my lover and then Andy was at my side and I kissed him, and then Rick kissed Andy and then the three of us exchanging saliva and I pulled out and gave Andy a go at Van's ass..."Oh what a tight hole!" he exclaimed as he began fucking him like a rabid bunny, and while that happened I took Rick in my arms and kissed him passionately and he lay down next to Van while I fucked him, and Andy looked over and watched me fucking Rick and I looked over at him fucking Van and we leaned into each other and kissed and it was just as passionate as it would have been ten years earlier...he still was my best buddy and I loved him, like I loved Rick and like I loved Van...and so we continued...

...and finally we stood over him, the three of us and we jerked off and we came and shot loads and loads of seed all over Van. I can still recall the three of us almost collapsing onto Van's prone body when our orgasm's shook us...and as we were coming, we touched at each other with our free hands, we needed that connection, that touch that electric feeling that we shared ... like brothers, lovers and who knows what all?

When we were done, Andy and Rick were starting to head out of the ring, and I stopped them. I took them aside and whispered to them both and they nodded their heads...

... I gently helped Van up and noting that his cock was still rock hard, I told him to stand up.

Andy knelt down in front of him and said, "Thanks brother" and then started sucking him off. Van through his head back and moaned in pleasure while Rick and I fondled his ass and played with his tits... he shook and moaned while Andy blew him and I whispered in his ear, "Go with it, brother, come in his mouth, make him swallow your cum"... and Van let out a roar, shooting a monster load that Andy tried to swallow, though most of it rolled down his chin and onto his chest...he collapsed into our arms and Rick and I helped him out of the ring.

Later on the four of us crowded into my shower and we washed each other off, we used soap and warm water and kisses and the four of us held each other in that shower and no words were said then... or later...

...when we all crowded into my bed and rested...

...and before I drifted off, I gave Rick a kiss and he smiled sleepily at me, and the last thing I saw that night was his goofy grin as I drifted off into a dark, dreamless sleep...

Winter Idyl

The so-called, Spring semester of 1983, at the college Chris and I attended, had to be one of the coldest and snowiest on record. It seemed to snow every other day from mid January to early April that year. I stayed warm by spending hours in the school library boning up on psychology and sociology textbooks for the various classes I was taking; as well as spending untold hours in the arms of my roommate and lover, Chris.

Being as this was the early 80's, and that our college was situated in a rather blue-collar town, we were discreet. This was long before the days of gay and lesbian campus groups, so it made sense to keep up appearances and play down what one did behind closed doors.

Inasmuch as we had a private dorm room though, we fucked our way through the several years we attended that school. Most of the friends I had on campus had no idea what was going on with my "best buddy"; what helped was Chris's athleticism -- he played on almost every team and was considered quite a catch by most of the women on campus. While he never pledged a fraternity, he was popular with the BMOC's, and so, by default, was I.

All things considered, it was a good time back then.

As I've mentioned before , sex between Chris and I was often a rather brutal affair. We were very physical and flirted with a relationship that did have some S & M overtones to it. At the time, I really didn't know what to call it. I just knew that I liked it, and I liked him, and he liked me, and couple of bruises that resulted in four star orgasms were OK in my book.

But sometimes, on occasion, love making could be slow and sensual. I treasured those rare instances when we kissed rather than punched each other while in the throes of passion...

This one time, as we were walking across campus, late at night after coming back from a party, Chris put his arm around me and pulled me in close to him. It was snowing and the sky had that weird orange glow to it that one sees in late winter evenings. I might have flinched at his display of public affection, but we seemed to be the only ones crossing the back of the soccer field that led to our dorm house (the ancient structure we had dubbed, "Munster hall"), nonetheless I said, "What are you doing, someone might see."

"Screw 'em", he replied as he pulled me closer keeping up with my stride.

I dug that he was not worrying about anything, and I loved his arm around me as we walked. I stole a glimpse of his handsome face, which was going all ruddy because of the cold night air. His eyes glanced out from under the ski cap he had on hiding his mop of unruly curly hair; when he saw me looking at him, he winked and grinned, his teeth offsetting the ever present five-o-clock-shadow that highlighted the bottom of his face... and just then, he pulled me to him and planted a soft, sweet kiss on my lips which I returned. Our tongues met and he moaned and chuckled as we sloppily Frenched, snow flakes falling on our faces...

Back at the dorm, we tossed off our coats and slowly began to undress each other. When we were both down to t-shirts and jeans, we unzipped and our cocks flopped out... and then we approached each other and drew into an embrace and kissed; this time it was a slow, burning kiss, the kind that in-and-of-itself was almost as good as a blow job...we mashed up against each other, I reached behind and pushed his denim clad ass to me while my cock pushed up and met his; we were dick to dick... he moved his hands under my t-shirt and went straight for my nipples and I kissed him even harder, and then his left hand slid out of my shirt to my back to my pants, and I felt him caress my ass. We stopped kissing for a second and just held each other. The only sound was that of our hurried breathing and the occasional muffled sound of a car or truck driving over the packed snow outside. I turned to the huge, curtain-less window and saw our ghost reflection in the frosted glass, and then I turned back and looked at his handsome face and once more we kissed.

Moments later we were on the floor, our clothing strewn about and discarded. Sideways I faced his cock and he faced mine and then we began sucking each off, sixty nine style. His mouth was so hot and he sucked my dick so perfectly, and I went down on him and took his rather large appendage in my own mouth and swallowed him and worked on his cock until I heard him moan in pleasure and felt his hips begin to grind...then he moved to his back and I got on top of him fucking his face while I continued on his cock...he brought his hands up and began to play with my asshole all the while. Every time he touched at my crack I'd shiver with new pleasures and I'd try and go down deeper on his dick.

We switched positions again and now lay face to face, pillows and blankets yanked from the bed served to protect us from the cold wood flooring. Belly to belly, cock to cock, we made out and explored each others bodies. I massaged his stone hard thighs, while he gently played his fingers up and down my chest... then we made our way to our feet and continued kissing until I came up behind him and began rubbing his broad shoulders, my cock nicking at his ass-crack and then I embraced him from behind and grabbed at his pecs and lifted him up slowly while he began stroking his cock and he let out a bear-like growl of approval, and once more I caught our reflection in the window... I let my cock slip into him and he said, "OK, give it to me, baby".

He hunched down over an easy chair and I began fucking him. His asshole tight, the only lube being my precum, and I closed my eyes and for some strange reason I found myself thinking about Aaron and my sordid life in California from some six years before...he shoved his ass up and back making me go all the way in and brought me out of my reverie and I was focused again, and I began humping him like a bunny while he moaned his approval ... then he said, "Don't come yet" and I pulled out, my body shaking while I came back from the edge. He gently pushed me back down to the floor and said, "I want you to come while I'm inside you".

I assumed the position on all fours. Chris spat on my ass a few times and fingered my eager opening and then slowly he entered me. For some reason, his dick felt particularly huge tonight and I let go a deep moan of pain as he went deeper and deeper...Just then, some one in one of the other dorm room began playing music, it was something by Missing Persons, it echoed from down the hall and served as the perfect soundtrack to this winter night's love making...for the umpteenth time I looked over at the window and saw our ghosts, Chris's curly hair flopping, his hips slamming into me with a rhythmic intelligence, his belly almost concave, his abs rippling in the diffused light from the parking lot lamps; then I let out a moan of animal-like pleasure as he reached under my thighs and grabbed my cock with his right hand and began jerking it; with each push of his thighs against my ass, with each sliver of pain from the fucking, he'd work my dick and I was shaking like an epileptic sex maniac.

It went like this for almost another ten minutes, Chris fucking me, taking me to the edge of an orgasm and then slowing down until finally, neither of us could take it anymore and we both climaxed...he let out a loud groan and then said, "Fuck, I'm gonna' come!" and I had no time to say anything as the first spasm of pleasure enveloped my being and I shot my load onto the floor and felt Chris's jizz shooting into me and he fell on top of my back now, his breathing rushed and heavy and I felt his body jerking and I felt him kissing me up and down my back as he jerked the juice from my dick and we fell flat and he stayed inside of me, still rock hard and the music from the other dorm room continued. It was Stevie Nicks singing, If Anyone Fell in Love, and I glanced at the window and this time, all I saw was the snow which was now coming down much faster...

**********

Later on we took a long hot shower together. We washed each other gently with soap and water and soon found ourselves locked in another embrace, our cocks rigid again and ready for more ... he leaned me forward and tongue fucked my ass in the shower and that made me shoot another load, and then I got down on my knees and sucked him off to another climax...

Finally, when we were done in the bathroom he gave me one more kiss and went back into the main room. I remained in the bathroom to brush my teeth and when I walked back into the main room, there he was on the sofa, still naked and he said, "Get over here and fuck me." And I smiled and turned out the bathroom light and as I approached him, I glanced over and saw his reflection in the dorm room window...

Lost in Babylon (part 5)

1: The Werewolf of Topanga Canyon

I'd met him at the Movie-star's house on that fateful night; the same night I'd met Aaron. His name was Lucas Steele and he was one of those behind the scenes guys, he worked for a large movie studio as a script consultant...he explained it to me this way, he said, "They give me crappy movie scripts and I punch them up, make them, or at least I try to make them, better."

He was telling me this while I was lying next to him in his bed in his rather rustic home in Topanga canyon.

"Look, " he said reaching for a pile of scripts that sat on the bedside table, "Here's an example. Do you think anyone is going to want to see a movie about a race car driver?" He handed me a dog-eared script and I remember marveling over how all the pages were held together by staples, like a rather large book report a high-school student might turn in for a senior year assignment. I paged through it and noticed the coffee stains and the amount of notations made in the columns in red ink...

"Nope, no one, but if fucking Burt Reynolds says he wants to make a movie about a race car driver, the studio drops a million and there you go. Now it's up to me to salvage this fucking piece of garbage and give it some sense of coherence".

Late afternoon sunlight lit his handsome face. Natural blond highlights ran through his thick head of hair, his beard was dark, as dark as his intense eyes. His body was carpeted with a fine rug of fur...he looked like a werewolf.

He continued talking as I put the script down on the floor next to the bed and said to him, "Mr. Steele, you seem tense, can I help you?", and then i let my hand fall to his cock which I gently stroked.

He smiled and his teeth were white and blinding (come to think of it, everyone in Hollywood had impossibly bright smiles), "Right you are...so uh, would you mind sucking my cock?"

His request was so polite, it really made him more endearing.

I went down on him and sucked him off to an orgasm. I let him come in my mouth and swallowed him.

Later on, after I had used his bathroom to clean up, he met me in his living room and offered me a cup of coffee. I accepted and sat on the sofa. On the coffee table was a fifty dollar bill, "That's for you, Walt. Thanks, I really needed a little roll." I smiled and wondered why a handsome, successful guy like this had to pay for it. And as I shoved the money into my pocket he said, "Listen, If you ever get tired of hustling, well I could...that is, I would love to hire you exclusively as a sort of personal assistant. You could live here with me, I have a guest room and a pool", he paused and I saw that he was actually blushing and once more I found him endearing, and then he continued, "and if not, well that's cool also."

I got up from the sofa and said goodbye and I was heading for the door he added one more thing, "Oh and Walt, even if you don't take me up on my offer; at least get out of this racket you're in...you seem to have a brain. Maybe you can make something of yourself..."

The whole ride back to Burbank in Aaron's VW Beetle, the werewolf's words echoed in my head. Truth be told, his advice was the most intelligent I'd heard anyone say since I got here...so of course, I paid it no heed.

2: Fucking The Days Away For Pay
Time seemed to be flying away in California...every day there were more parties to attend, or private engagements, and of course street hustling...I was getting damned good at it...my cock would rise for anyone at any time provided money was involved. Like the time this woman picked me up (a first!) on Sunset Blvd. and asked if I would come home with her, she offered me 150.00 if I would fuck her husband while she watched. That was, by far, the kinkiest thing anyone ever asked me to do. I agreed and when we pulled into the drive way of her swanky home in Bel Air she said, "Promise one thing", as she handed me a wad of cash, "Promise me that you'll make him scream in pain...that's all I ask". I figured we had some kind of marriage melt down going on here, or a humiliation scene. Whatever, when I walked into the bed room and saw her fat sack of a husband, I closed my eyes, thought of the money and fucked him until he, begged, actually begged, me for mercy; and all the while, his wife sat silently on a chair across the room smoking cigarettes. When we were done, and she was driving me back to Sunset she gave me another fifty and said, "That was just what he needed"... And then there was the time we went back to the Movie-Star's mansion up on Mulholland and, just like before, Aaron and I were summoned to his bedroom, and just like before there was some guy on his knees giving the Movie-Star head; but this time, I recognized the guy blowing him, it was that beautiful young actor who specialized in playing sensitive young men...The Movie Star had us double fuck the beautiful young actor while he jerked off on his bed. This time, though Aaron and I both got off and the beautiful young actor, later on, asked for our phone numbers...

3: Aaron the Anchor
The only sex I was still enjoying was with Aaron. We'd get it on at least twice a day, and every time it was great...what sealed it, was that Aaron and I had fallen for each other in a big way. I mean, we were crazy in love and I think it scared the both of us to some extent. But more often than not, we acted as stabilizing forces in each other's lives. Anchors in reality so that we'd not drift to far off into a sea of insanity.

For this short, but wild time, I found myself happy, in love, and financially secure. Not a bad deal for a 19 year old punk . I never wanted 1977 to end!

4: The Palm Springs Fuck Fest

It was the first Saturday in December when Aaron and I were invited to a house in Palm Springs. It seemed that this businessman from the East Coast had rented a home in the dessert and wanted to fill it with horny young men for the weekend. According to what we were told, the client was just going to watch and maybe take some pictures as we fucked around and had total run of his rented palace. Aaron told me that we were all going to be paid two hundred a piece, as well as have free food and drink for the entire weekend.

It was maybe ten degree's warmer in Palm Springs so it felt like late summer when we arrived on Saturday morning. The house was a sprawling rancher that was surrounded by a high wrought iron gate on all sides. The parking lot was filled with cars in various stages of disrepair, it was obvious that whomever was inside were not A-list celebrities.

The businessman, a jowly fifty-something-year-old, greeted us at the front door. He wore Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, while around his neck, a Yashica MG 1 camera hung. He shook our hands and said, "Make yourself at home boys, come on in and meet the others"... Once inside we saw many familiar faces; most of the hustlers that I'd met at the first party at the Movie-Star's house were there. A few guys I did not know, but it was all good as I gazed upon the pretty young men...already there was some action going on as a couple of guys were fucking each other by the fireplace and blow-jobs were being given by a a redhead with a peace sign tattooed on his left pec...but most of the others were standing around talking, the smell of marijuana heavy in the air and the golden desert sun illuminating everyone and everything streamed in through the open windows. This was sexual paradise.

Aaron and I took everything but our briefs off. We both wore virginal white BVD's, fresh from the package this morning, and then folded our shirts and jeans and put them on a bureau by the front door. As we made our way through the guest, back slaps and salutations were shouted. A cute little blond came our way and offered us a toke of a joint he was smoking. The kid looked to be about fifteen with his doe eyes and flawless skin. He wasn't wearing anything and I caught site of his cock which looked to be the size of a small long range missile, later on Aaron told me that the kid was known as, "The Tripod" because of the size of his member. I was shocked to find out that he was actually twenty seven!

Feeling mellow and aroused after the joint, we joined a couple of guys who were fucking. It's funny how you do what's expected of you when your are sexing for bucks; everyone knew this was just a show and that we were all just playing a part. Anyway, Aaron sidled up to me and said, "Ready to earn some money?" I nodded my head and followed his lead...the fuckers were near the fireplace, the tall one with the smirk on his face was robotically banging the darker one, the one who seemed stoned and slightly removed from it all. Aaron stood behind the fucker and began feeling up his ass he motioned me over and we both began massaging the top guy's bony butt. Just then the businessman showed up and said, "Don't mind me fellows, just have at it", and he began shooting pictures. Somewhere, in the deepest recess of my brain, I heard a voice say, Wouldn't it be funny if these pictures show up someday and your family sees them...I shook my head and focused on the task at hand, and got in front of the guy who was being fucked. Releasing my cock from my briefs I unceremoniously shoved my dick into his mouth and he began sucking me off. Meanwhile, Aaron pulled the robot fucker away from his quest and took over, seriously pounding the bottom boy. Soon we were surrounded by the others but I just kept looking over at Aaron who would smile and wink at me while we went at it...all the while the sound of a camera clicked away...

Later on I found myself on the sofa while this guy named, Elliot, was kneeling in front of me sucking my cock...he was good and I found myself enjoying it...directly across from me, Aaron was being serviced by another guy, again we made eye contact and again he smiled and winked my anchor...and then I heard the camera clicking again.

Led Zeppelin's Cashmere was playing in the house, while a group of us had made our way to the deck outside. Blankets were spread and Aaron and I joined three other guys who were making out . We shared a joint first and then fell into each other's arms...the pot and the heat had my head swimming and my cock so hard I thought it might burst. The arms, legs, and chests of the others were dripping with sweat. Someone was fingering my asshole while someone else was kissing me... I went with it ... then Aaron was in front of me, his cock in my face, I began sucking it while someone came up from behind and began pinching my nipples...then we all shifted and I was flat on my back while the guys were all feeling me up, their fingers, in unison, worming into my tight ass...I kept stroking my cock while they manhandled me. I turned and saw Aaron, his head of blond hair tousled from the desert wind, his biceps bulging while playing with my ass...one of them leaned down and bit my left nipple...I might have had seven or eight fingers in me when I shot my load straight up...one of the guys rubbed some of my semen on to his chest and we shifted again, and two guys began fucking while the rest of us knelt in front of them, working our cocks and then Aaron leaned over and kissed me and I surprised myself by shooting again, and that seemed to set off a chain reaction of cum until all of us were spent and collapsed on top of each other in a pile. And when I finally turned I saw the businessman with his camera clicking away.

And it went on like this for the entire weekend...you'd fuck, get off, wash up, eat something or drink something, maybe take a nap, then take a shower and start all over again...the businessman and his camera never far behind.

So on Sunday night as we were getting ready to leave, Aaron told me to call the businessman over and ask for our pay. He said he wanted me to distract him for at least ten minutes, but he would not tell me why.

I found him in the kitchen, for the first time in days, his camera was not around his neck, and I told him we were leaving. He smiled and handed me an envelope and then turned back to the sink and I said, "Well, I wanted to thank you for a good time." He smiled again, and in the kitchen, under the neon light, I saw how homely he really was, but I stayed cool, "Why not let me give you a blow job, no charge". The man flushed red and said, "Really?"

I got into his space and moved him until his back was to the refrigerator and he giggled like a school girl as I reached for his crotch...

Just then Aaron popped his head into the kitchen and yelled out, "Walt, come on man, let's get a move on!"

I pretended to be disappointed and said, "Sorry, man maybe next time..." and ran from the kitchen.

In the car, I noticed that Aaron had a towel under his arm that was plainly concealing something. He threw me the keys and said, "Floor it dude!"

We pulled over an hour later and he showed me what was wrapped up in the towel. It was the businessman's camera and about ten rolls of film. We got out of the car and tossed the film cartridges into a ditch just off the highway and then smashed the camera and tossed it into the ditch. We stood for a moment taking in the bare landscape watching the sun go down, and Aaron turned to me and smiled and said, "Well, do you want our pictures showing up in a porn rag?" I laughed good and long and then we headed back to the car...

END PART 5

6 am

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Milk Mail/F.A.Q.

Thanks for the fan mail guys (and several gals). I wanted to take this time to answer a few questions from those who are enjoying these sordid tales of my past.


Q: Why, "The Milkman's Baby?"
A: People of a certain age will recall the old joke about 'The Milkman's Baby' - as it turns out, I am the punchline of that old joke.

Q: What is the basic chronology of these stories?
A: They start in 1976 when I was fresh out of high school. 1977 was the Summer I lived with Stu, as well as the late fall and early winter of my time in L.A. 78 through 80 were a kind of free time when I was trying to "find myself". 80 to 84 were my college years (when I spent most of my time with Chris), and after college, a bit more exploration until I met Rick in 1986.

Q: Are all of these stories true?
A: With the exception of one tale I have weaved here, all of these are true stories.

Q: What was it like to be a gay man in the late 70's?
A: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Frankly, you needed to be much more discrete than gays and lesbians are today. However, there were major burgeoning gay communities that were blossoming in the larger cities; but if you lived in the suburbs, or small towns, you did best to keep a low profile or pretend that you were straight.

Q: Do you still keep in touch with Andy, Stu and Chris?
A: I have not seen Stu since 1990 - he sends an Xmas card every year and an occasional e-mail. Chris is remarried and I have not seen him since his first wedding. I see Andy often. He is doing well.

Q: Have you ever told Andy, Stu or Chris about this blog?
A: Andy has seen the blog and he likes it. He has told me that he has toyed with the idea of creating a similar sexual electronic memoir, but so far he has not (and that's a shame, because he is the most gifted writer I've ever read). Stu and Chris, to the best of my knowledge, know nothing about this blog.

Q: What ever happened to Rick?
A: We are still together -- twenty years this summer! And yes, he's read the blog.

Q: Why do the pictures that represent Rick bear a startling resemblance to Topher Grace?
A: Because Rick looked like (and still resembles) Topher.

Q: In the Lost in Babylon series you make mention of a certain movie-star. Are you talking about Paul Newman?
A: Maybe. Maybe not.

Q: Did you really turn tricks in Los Angeles?
A: Sadly, this is very true. In retrospect I realise how foolhardy my actions were. But I was very young and very horny. I DO NOT condone anyone taking up that profession lest he or she has a strong spirit and stomach. And even then, I'd strongly urge another path.

Q: With all of your sexual escapades how did you not contract HIV?
A: Dumb fucking luck.

Q: What's up with all the wrestling?
A: Stu, Andy, Chris and I always got together to wrestle as a prelude to sex. It was something that the four of us found really hot (as a form of foreplay), this carried on and has been a fetish of mine since.

Q: Did you and Chris really have an S&M relationship?
A: Our relationship was one fucked up affair. There was a lot of anger, I suspect, on both our parts and so sex was often a very physical and violent affair -- but I do want to stress, it was consensual on both our parts!

Q: Actually, your grammar and writing style is very poor...
A: Sorry about that chief, read something else then; I never claimed to be Faulkner!

Q: The pictures used to illustrate your porn are cool. How do you do make them?
A: Free Internet porn and Paint Shop Pro!

Lost in Babylon (part four)

1: Sugar Baby Love

We were at the beach ... mid November, the temperature a balmy 82 degrees, and Aaron and I spent the early afternoon sun bathing and swimming the warm waters of the Pacific in Malibu.

Frankly, I'd never seen a shore line as beautiful as this one. In Jersey we had our beaches, our Wildwoods, our Long Beach Islands, our Atlantic and Ocean Cities ... but this was something else, this was paradise complete with palm trees, and tanned beautiful people and sand dunes ... oh man the sand dunes...

Around three-o-clock or so, the both of us pretty baked by the warm California sun, and the smell of coco butter hanging heavy, Aaron, who was lying on a blanket next to me said, "Want to go find a dune and fuck?" I was shocked for a second and said, "But won't some one see?" He smiled his crooked mischievous grin and said, "Walt, trust me, I know a couple of spots", and with in a few minutes we were packed up heading to a secluded place that was hidden by three foot tall grass and a bramble of palm trees.

We parked Aaron's car, his old V.W. van, behind a tangle-wood of flora and slipped our swim trunks off and immediately began making out. The radio played softly; "That's The Way I Like It"... no argument there, and then Aaron pulled the rear door down, spread the blanket across it and said, "Come on Jersey boy, let me fuck the melancholy right our of you!" And god almighty, did he ever.

Aaron must have noticed the look on my face the past few days, as much as I hated to admit it, I was feeling a bit homesick - But, with his cock up my ass, the sun beating down on me, the music of the Eagles playing now, the warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air, all thoughts of the Garden State were washed away...after he came, shooting his load up my ass, I said, "OK golden boy, let me show you how we do it East Coast style," and I pushed him down and mounted him and fucked him till I climaxed, "Dreamboat Annie" by Heart softly serenading us...

We stayed on the blanket kissing for awhile, and he said to me, "Bro, I can't tell you how much I am enjoying this ... this relationship we've stumbled into."

"It is kind of neat", I said stretching and tousling his hair.

"Neat? Who are you, Annie Hall?" He said roaring with laughter.

"Fuck you, Alvy", I said poking him playfully in the ribs ... and then we kissed once more before we sat up, threw our trunks back on and got back into the car.

As we headed back to Burbank, the sun starting to set, that old song, "Sugar Baby Love" was playing on K-ROCK.

I remember thinking clearly, "Fuck New Jersey" at that moment.

2: Meanwhile

I had opened up a savings account at a small savings and loan on Alameda Avenue in Burbank and in the matter of about three weeks, I had close to two thousand stashed away .... more than I'd ever had in my young life ... sucking and fucking for dollars was a lucrative way to make money I was discovering. I also gave Aaron cash to help with the rent and food and, for the first time in my life, I felt like I had some kind of control over things.

And California was a dream land...a land of potential and fantasy, the land of sex and money...

We had a routine; Mondays and Tuesdays were off days, no hustling on these days...we'd go on road trips or sometimes just lay around the house get stoned and have sex...Wednesdays and Thursdays we'd hit the corners in downtown Hollywood and do some old school hustling; this is where we made some quick easy money. The weekends were were for appointments and private parties, we'd make most of our loot over a weekend.

Yes, the Milkman's Baby had found a way to make a living doing something he was really good at.

3: Barracuda

One morning, Aaron told me that there was this record producer in Laurel Canyon that was interested in a little one on one session with me. "He saw you at the party at the movie-star's house and has been asking around. You game?" I smiled and asked, "What's it pay?"

"That's the spirit", he said handing me the phone and a slip of paper with a number jotted down on it.

*

As I drove Lookout Mountain Ave, I got to thinking about the rock stars that lived in this area...I wondered if I'd see Joni Mitchell or maybe Frank Zappa.

The afternoon was warm, and I noted that the sun seemed particularly bright in this part of L.A.; it was as if the smog never made it to The Canyon.

Per the directions I'd received, I drove up another little side street, and pulled into the driveway of a sprawling rancher. The front gate was opened as I was told it would be. I pulled the van up behind an electric blue Sting Ray and parked, took a deep breath and said out loud, "What the fuck am I doing here?", laughed it off and remembered what Aaron, my mentor and lover had said over and over, "Remember dude, you are in control. These guys are paying you." With that mantra firmly implanted, I disembarked the van and walked to the front door of the house...the smell of pine hung heavy in the air reminding me of home for some reason.

The Record Producer answered the door and I was instantly shocked at how young he appeared. He might have been no more than twenty five or thirty, tops. He had dark hair, and a boyish face and smiled brightly as he greeted me, "And you must be Walt," he said ushering me into his home, "Come in you hot piece of ass, come in."

He handed me a joint and said, "Take your clothes off, OK?" I did as I was asked and watched as he did the same. His body was flawless, though my eye was drawn to his left thigh that was emblazoned with a tattoo of a cross. He asked if I liked his tattoo, and I nodded. "It was a gift for my wife, we both got tattoos when we married instead of exchanging rings", he stopped and sighed for a second, "Yeah, somewhere is a castrating bitch with a crucifix on her thigh, I pity the guy who makes it's acquaintance", and then he laughed and said, "Come on, let me show you around."

The house was big with lots of rooms and windows that let in natural light. It appeared that The Record Producer lived here alone. He showed me into his studio and my mouth dropped as I saw dozens of photographs of well known rock stars that lined the wall just left of the huge mixing board; here were photos of my host and Roger Daltrey, and Mick Jagger, and Grace Slick, as well as various other singers, most of them could be heard on the radio these days...as I stood examining the photos, he went to the sound board and flicked a couple of switches and some unfamiliar music began booming through the room, "These are some tapes of the next Stone's album, Mick dropped them off for me to hear." I nodded my head and before I could do or say anything else, he took me by the hand and lead me on out of the studio, down the hall to the entrance to his patio.

He lit that joint that he'd given me earlier with a pack of matches that sat on a small table by the door at the mouth of the garden. We both took a few healthy hits until he butted it out, and moved in close and said, "You are one beautiful fucker, you know that, don't you?" I think I might have blushed, but I tried to remain cool...whatever the case, his sweet talking was making my cock rise to the occasion and then he said, "If you let me fuck you, I'll give you five hundred".

I nodded, remaining cool but my heart leaped, five hundred! To get fucked by this stud, bring it on! I had no time to answer as he moved in close and said, "So can I kiss you, or don't you like that?" I said, "For five hundred, I'll kiss your wife" he smiled and said, "Oh and a sense of humor" and then we kissed.

After we kissed, he directed me down to his chest and asked me to chew on his nipples, "Bite 'em baby, suck them raw..." he said in a low tone. I clamped down on his left tit and bit at it and he let out a throaty groan and said, "Oh you fucking slut, you are going to pay for that..." Then I moved to his right nipple and did the same and pushed at the back of my head and said, "Fucker, sweet fucker, I am going to nail you so hard...keep at it, bitch".

After I made his chest sore, he pushed me down to his cock. It was uncircumcised and pretty big. It bent slightly to the right was as hard and firm as granite..."Work for your money, cock-sucker", he said as he pushed me to my knees and I happily gave him what he wanted, sucking his rod, bringing my hands around to his ass, pushing him further into my mouth. My hands on his ass, which was a hard as stone, I let a finger slip up his crack and when he felt that he roared, "Oh you little fucker, oh man, you fucking cock-sucker" ... for a moment I wondered if his neighbors might hear, but then again, that music from the studio was still blasting and if that did not bother them, surely some obscenities uttered in the heat of the moment would not... I just kept sucking the huge bent cock of The Record Producer and kept thinking of how much I was going to make for this performance.

My jaw was sore when he finally pulled me off his cock and he pushed me onto a huge lounge chair and said, "Time to get fucked, slut". I raised my ass and said, "So what the fuck are you waiting for?" He met that remark by spitting on my ass and giving me a good hard slap that actually echoed off the patio walls. I let out a yelp of surprise and pain (but you know I was digging it) and then while I lay flat on my belly, The Record Producer mounted me and proceeded to fuck me raw.

No exaggerating here, this was not love, there was no tenderness, this was an animal fuck, pure and simple, and The Record Producer was using me to get off and I was nothing more than a prop for the bastard. Every time I thought he could not possibly hurt me more with his lightening quick speed, he did. He was crushing me while he fucked me. His cock felt like a baseball bat up my ass and I started crying out, not for effect, but because this mother fucker was killing me...at one point he reached under me and started pinching my tits and in a way,that was good, because it kind of worked as a counter irritant to the fucking.

"See what happens to sluts who shake their asses around guys?" he said, his voice crazed with lust and anger.

I bit down at the chair's cushion and called him a mother fucker and he laughed and slapped my ass and somehow, someway, managed to go in deeper and I felt that I might scream so I buried my face in the cushion and thought about the money...and then I heard a dog barking somewhere off in the distance it sounded like a mad dog...The Record Producer was howling, saying something about being god, I figured that this guy was a major nut case and finally he shut up, pulled his cock out of my ass and shot a huge sticky load on my sweat covered back.

When he was through he dashed back in side for a minute, I sat up, sore and slimy and somewhat disoriented and then he appeared with my clothes tossing them at me, "Your money is in your pants pocket, you can use the shower in the pool house if you want...just leave by the back gate". He turned to go back inside and stopped for a second and said, "Oh, yeah your ass is pretty tight, so if you want to make few more bucks call me next Thursday, see ya" and he walked back into the house and I made my way to the shower.

After I was clean, I counted the money and there it was. Five one hundred dollar bills. I dressed and made my way back to the van and headed out back to Burbank, richer and sorer thanks to that fucking barracuda in Laurel Canyon.

Ice Storm

“Hurt me, hurt me real bad,” he pleaded as I secured his bound wrists to the metal pole above his head. “Shut the fuck up”, I said punching him in the face leaving him with a healthy shiner...

This is how we celebrated Rick's 20th birthday on January 11, 1988; while an ice storm was assaulting the southern half of New Jersey.

It had been a long time coming, but it was something he had begged for. For months, he had been telling me that he wanted to explore some physically demanding sexual avenues. He said that he wanted to feel what it was like to be abused; by someone he loved and trusted. I talked frankly with him and, being no stranger to hard-knock-love, warned him about the ramifications. But he persisted, in fact he insisted.

So be it.

That week before he came out to Jersey from Colorado, I set up my basement into a makeshift playroom. I had an old mattress on the floor, a Saint Andrew's Cross slapped together with a couple of pieces of heavy discarded wood planks, a collection of belts and some toys I'd purchased at an “adult store”. I confess, I was pretty turned on by the thought of all of this.

When Rick showed up that next night I told him that I had a surprise for his birthday and took him in my arms and kissed him urgently on the mouth, and then I held him tightly and said, “Are you ready?” and he simply said, “Yes”, and I showed him to the basement. Once down there, I took my shirt off and tossed it aside and smiled and then I made a fist and punched him in the face for the first time that night. He fell to the floor and glanced up at me with a look of stunned amazement; I grabbed him up by his hair threw him over my knee and yanked his jeans down and began wailing on his beautiful alabaster butt. I surprised myself with amount of abandon I spanked him , and as his ass began to glow red, I could feel his cock stiffen as it pressed against my knee cap, “Happy birthday, you little fucking bitch!” I said as I beat him, “going to make you my fucking punk tonight!”

The old furnace in the basement flared to life just then casting an orange hue to the surroundings.

I threw him back on the floor and demanded he take his clothes off, and then I led him to a space near the mattress and told him to raise his hands above his head.

“Hurt me, hurt me real bad,” he pleaded as I secured his bound wrists to the metal pole above his head. I told him to, “Shut the fuck up”, and punched him in the face again, leaving him with a healthy shiner. He remained stoic, though his body trembled and his cock, now freed from his underwear, stood straight up.

Fully secured now, I stood in front of him and spit in his face and then went for his nipples, pulling and twisting them savagely. He jerked and bucked while I continued the abuse on his tits and every time he tried to pull back, I yanked harder on them...I pulled until he opened his mouth and let out a cry of pain. I let go and gave him a second... and then sucker punched him in the gut and watched as his head lolled forward and his body jerked some more. Then I spit in his face once more.

As he hung there moaning, I went behind him and slapped his ass a few more times. Then I went to the small table near the furnace and picked up a leather strap. I stood about a half a foot back and brought the belt up and then down across his back. The cracking sound echoed through the basement and Rick cried out again, I wanted him to savor the sensation so I waited a minute, remaining silent, the only sound was that of the frozen rain pelting at the windows of the basement. Then I raised the belt and hit him again, this time he screamed, I did not wait, I flogged him in earnest; belting him across his back, his ass, his legs, his calves and then I moved to the front of him and gave him a few lashes across his chest. My cock was so hard now that it was rubbing up against the zipper of my jeans...I dropped the strap to the ground and looked as he hung from the ropes, his body covered in welts, his eyes wet with tears, his cock as hard as it could get.

I stepped behind him again, and reached under his ass to his balls and gave them a tug and then with my other hand I grabbed his hair and yanked his head back and whispered in his ear, "How do you like it, punk?" and he sobbed and gasped and said, his voice cracking, "Sir, I deserve this".

I squeezed his nuts even harder and then yanked them again until he screamed out in pain...my cock was dripping and the front of my jeans were getting wet.

I loved him so much, and I knew that he knew this as I drove my fist into the small of his back.

The only sounds now where the sounds of his moans and my heavy breath as the well as the sound of the driving freezing rain.

"Looks like I worked up a sweat, punk", I said softly, bringing my armpit up to his lips; and he obediently lapped at my perspiration, his tongue catching the sweat. I drove my pit down further on his face until his head was bent back and I said, "Good boy, lap it up". Then I let my arm slip down as I worked behind him and brought it around his neck and then choked him with with it, tensing so that my bicep bulged and cut of his air for a second. I released him and snickered as I watched his body swinging from the metal bar.

Once more I noted that his cock was still stiff - he was loving this.

Finally I freed his arms and let him fall to the floor and watched as he crawled to the mattress. I kicked at his ass softly with my work boots until he lay flat and then brought my left foot, encased in the heavy shoe, slowly down on his cock. He slammed his arms on the mattress and began pleading for me to stop. So I brought my foot down even more, with more force, I could see tears streaming down his face now and I waited for a few seconds and then lifted up and watched as he grabbed at his aching throbbing cock which was still erect.

As he lay on the floor I stood over him and said, "Now's your chance. Do you want more or do you want to quit: I'll only make this offer once". Suddenly he sat up and threw his arms around my legs and said softly, "More."

Five minutes later, Rick found himself bound to the Saint Andrew's cross, his arms and legs spread in a figure "X". I took the belt out again and this time I gave him five sharp lashes with the strap across his back - hard enough to hurt, but soft enough not to break skin . I made him count each lash and by the time he got to "Five", his voice was ragged with a timbre of suffering.

I peaked around quick and saw that his cock was still hard, in fact it was dripping a sloppy wet rope of precum.

Standing behind my lover, I reached for a cigar that was sitting on the table near the mattress. I struck a match and lit the stogie and took a deep puff, blowing smoke in Rick's direction. Slowly I wandered around to face him, his eyes, wet with tears, met mine and he licked his lips in anticipation of what I might do next. I reached for his throbbing, leaking cock and gave it a quick tug. My fingers were wet with his precum and I brought them up to his mouth and shoved them in. He sucked at my digits tasting his jizz.

I took another puff on the cigar and said softly, "Going to brand you now, bitch". He closed his eyes wincing at the thought and I leaned up to his ear and whispered, "I love you".

I moved around back and in one swift move, I brought the head of the cigar to his left ass cheek, shoving it firmly so that it would leave a perfect circle mark. He screamed again and bucked and I could hear the sound of his flesh sizzling.

I kept the cigar there for thirty seconds...I counted off under my breath...and then I dropped it to the floor and crushed out the burning stogie with my boot.

Rick was shivering in pain and I was primed and ready to fuck him raw. His ass, now with raised welts and an angry red semi-circle of burnt flesh, the mark of Cain. I spit on my on my hand and began finger his tight ass...trooper that he was, he pushed back onto my hand and his voice filled the basement as he cried out, "Now! Yes! Please sir, fuck me!!" Still feeling somewhat sadistic, I reached around his torso and up to his nipples and gave them both a good sharp pull and his head fell back on mine as he groaned, "Jeeeesuuussssss".

Released from the cross, I hold him by a handful of hair and threw him down on the workout bench and lay him flat on his belly and secured his hands to the wrought-iron legs of the bench. Without a word I dropped my pants and my cock sprang forward and out, and I spat into the palm of my hand and dive bombed his bruised and battered bum.

Like always, he was a tight, but perfect fit and I showed him no mercy; fucking him with abandon...pulling at his hair...slapping his bruised ass...laughing as he screamed out my name as he called me every conceivable abomination he could come up with -- I told him to scream it louder. Then, when I felt myself about to shoot, I pulled out and stepped in front of him, took my cock in my hand and shoved it into this mouth. Motherfucker, but he sucked like his damn life depended on it, swallowing me as I came in rivers down his gullet...he kept gagging, and I kept shoving my cock in to his sweet mouth until finally I was done.

I noticed that he was humping the workout bench, poor little fucker needed to come badly, I figured, so I undid his hands and sat him up and put my still erect penis into his mouth and told him to jerk off...he must have stroked maybe two or three times and like that his cum was shooting up and on to my thighs. He never took his mouth off my dick the whole time

When he was done I brought him forward and made him lick his seed off of me...his tongue all soft and hot worked up and down my thighs as he slurped his juice up...finally I realized the show was over and I told him to lay back on the bench for a few minutes.

"I'll be right back," I told him doing up my jeans and heading upstairs where I drew a bath and lit some candles in the bathroom.

***

Back in the basement I reached down to where he lay and took him in my arms, his body was limp cold and damp with sweat. I lifted him up and cradled him in my arms; he supported himself by putting an arm around my neck, resting his head against my chest. As we approached the steps, the heater kicked on again and for the last time that night, we were bathed in a red glow.

I walked sideways up the steps, careful not to jostle him and he brought himself closer to me by wrapping his legs around my waist and holding on tighter. It was awkward considering that Rick was my almost as tall as I was; what saved me from falling over was that he weighed about eighty pounds less than me.

Upstairs, I looked down at him as I carried him through the living room, his beautiful face, his green eyes looking up at me with such love and trust that I thought my heart might burst...I saw that his left eye was swollen where I had struck him; he looked like a fallen feather-weight boxing champ and my cock began to swell again.

In the bathroom, the only light from the dozen or so candles around the tub and on the sink, I gently lowered him into the tub which was filling with warm water. He closed his eyes as he entered the water and sighed. I took a clean cloth and dipped it into the water and slowly began washing him, soothing him, rubbing his sore abused body. He leaned back into the tub and I kissed his forehead and then I reached up to the sink and put a towel filled with ice on his left eye and he said softly, "Thank you, thank you...so much..that was the most intense thing I've ever experienced in my life" and then he closed his eyes and I took a bar of soap and began bathing him gently and I told him how much I loved him, and it was the truth; and then I looked up and saw that the bathroom window pane was covered in a sheet of ice and the tapping of the sleet sounded like bullets and I continued bathing him...

I'd laid out towels on the bed and he lay down on them and I dried him off; kissing his body as I did so and when he was dry, I lay down next to him, stroked his reddish brown hair, and then I kissed him again, I kissed the welts, the bruises, his eye and then I worked my way down his chest to his crotch to his cock which was rock hard again and before I went down on it I said, "Happy birthday, babe" and I sucked him off until he shot his load into my mouth while the ice storm continued raging outside.

Lost in Babylon (part three)

1: T.C.B.

I called my family first. Speaking with my mother, I told her that I was going to be staying in California a bit longer than I'd expected...she asked a lot of questions, I lied and told her that I just needed some more time ... she surprised me when she said, "Darling, I don't know what your up too, and maybe I really don't want to know. Just be careful and stay in touch; and after you get this, whatever it is, out of your system, just come home ... no questions."

I hung up thankful that I had such an understanding parent, but saturated with guilt that I had to lie to her ... however I could not tell her that her son had taken up with a street hustler.

I called Chris next. We talked for about an hour and he told me that he'd heard about me and Stu. I told him that I was having a ball out west, leaving out the sordid details for now, and he laughed and said, "Call me when you you get back east ... you know you'll be back."

And that was that. New Jersey was, for all intent and purposes, squared away and I was a free man in Burbank.

2: The Job of Sex / Bless Me Father

One morning after we'd smoked a bowl of hash and fucked, Aaron asked if I wanted to earn some money... I was very hesitant, because I knew what it would entail. And frankly, the more I thought of fucking for money, the less I was game. It's one thing to stumble into a situation, but it's a whole other ball game to go at it willingly. So I took a rain-check on his offer and hit the streets looking for some legitimate work.

For three days, I answered every ad in the paper I could find and the best I came up with was a gig at a little record shop off of Sunset Blvd that would pay me the mind-numbingly-outrageous amount of two dollars and thirty cents an hour. What could I do? I took the job.

I moved into Aaron's the day I got the job. That is, I brought my suitcase and duffel bag from the hotel over.

My first week at The Wax Stax, after working almost 70 hours in total, I came home with a paycheck in the amount of 140.00 dollars - no overtime, no benefits - Christ, not even a discount at the store itself.

"You ready to earn some real cash?" Aaron asked over dinner that night.

Reluctantly, I nodded my head.

For the next few days, Aaron tutored me on the fine art of hustling; The Job of Sex, is what he called it. I told him that I was not using my real name, and he agreed, "Don't worry dude, you'll always be Walt". We went shopping one day, and Aaron picked out some jeans, one size smaller than I wore, as well as some form fitting shirts, underwear and even sneakers, "Think of these as your work clothes", he said as we strolled out of the small shop on Hollywood Blvd.

Our first gig, I soon discovered, was one of Aaron's regulars; a catholic priest from a parish in Glendale. "This is as an easy hundred for the both of us, and you won't have to do much more than watch ... see, he likes to give me head while someone is watching," he said going through his closet pulling out some shirts and pants, "I usually give one of the guys a call for this, but fuck 'em, we're a team, dude." He paused for a moment as he tossed me a crisp white shirt and a pair of black slacks, "I think we wear about the same size ... try these on".

A few moments later I was dressed like I was going to a funeral; conservative clothes with a black sports coat and tie. I noted that the pants fit a bit snug and Aaron told me to forgo underwear, so I pretty much looked like the pants were painted on me.

I paced the living room waiting and Aaron came out in the same get up, he looked like a young wall-street banker type. I told him I was really nervous and he reached into his jacket pocket and came close to me and whispered, "I figured as much, swallow this." and with that he placed a half a pill on my tongue which I accepted, "Half a lude, mellows you out some but it it'll keep your cock going..."

"Feed your head, " I said following him to the door.

The lude kicked in about ten minutes later as we drove to Glendale. I felt my anxiety melting away as Aaron told me the set up. I was to sit on the sofa and watch him blowing Father Horny, when the priest looked my way, I was to whip out my cock and start jerking off. Later on, we'd probably both have to stand over his holiness and cum on him while he lay on the floor jerking off. I almost laughed at the business like way he described the scenario. But as mellow as I felt, and as ludicrous and surreal everything seemed to be; I was sporting a major hard-on.

And so we showed up at a small apartment about a block from the church that Father Horny was affiliated with. The priest, a middle-aged man, shocked me when he answered the door in his cassock and collar. He smiled beatifically when he caught a glimpse of Aaron and managed the same smile when he was introduced to me...we were then ushered in to a living room and offered iced tea. Taking a cue from my partner in crime, I accepted some, it was weak and very sweet. As we sat and drank, the priest drew the drapes and went over to the landing by the steps that led to the second floor of his apartment and said, "Walt, do you want to watch as I take communion from Aaron?"

"Yes, father, I do", I said a bit to respectfully, all things considered, and once again found myself trying to stifle a laugh.

The priest undid Aaron's shirt and tossed it aside and then led him to the stair well where he had Aaron stand on the third or fourth step and then he got on his knees in front of him and began sucking and I heard Aaron, ever the professional, say softly, "Take this son, this is my body" and he looked my way and gave me a wink while Father Horny sucked away... I noticed how beautiful Aaron looked in the diffused light that filtered in through the drawn curtains...and then the priest paused and wiped at his lips and looked my way. This was my cue, so I undid my zipper and let my dick pop out, and slowly began massaging it for the benefit of the man of the cloth...once more Aaron caught my eye and winked his approval.

It went on at the stairway for about five minutes and then the priest rose and motioned for me to get up. He said, "Take your shirt off and stand here." So I stood in the middle of the living room and Aaron stood across from me while the priest lay on the floor and hitched up his robe, revealing a pasty white body and a very small dick. I did my best not lose my hard-on considering what I was seeing and stood over him jacking off. Luckily Father Horny kept his eyes closed and I jerked-off looking at Aaron who was jerking off looking at me... we managed to have our orgasms almost at the same time, and as our juice spilt on to the man in black, he did the same and shot his own seed into the air .

When it was over the priest remained on the floor and pointed to a small table by the door where an envelope waited. "Go", he said keeping his eyes closed. So we grabbed our shirts and jackets, zipped up and then headed out; Aaron snatching the envelope behind me...

I began laughing when I got into the car as Aaron said, "Check this out", showing me that the our payment was in was one of the church's donation envelopes. Two crumpled one hundred dollar bills were inside as well as a mass card ... Aaron tossed the mass card out the window and handed me my cut saying, "See, I told you it would be easy!" Then he turned on his radio and we sped away, Fleetwood Mac's "Gold Dust Woman" serving as our get away soundtrack...

We drove about three blocks, flush with excitement and Aaron pulled the Volkswagen down a little side street and parked and looked at me, his smile as bright and dazzling as that California sun, he said, "Dude! You are gonna' be so good at this", and he leaned over and planted a big wet kiss on my lips. My head spun and when he pulled back he said, "OK, tonight we hit the town and drum up some business...me and you, dude! The Glimmer Twins!"

I laughed, and said, "Just like Keith and Mick."

"Something like that", he said as he shifted gears and peeled back out on to the highway...

3: Down The Rabbit Hole

We drove down Sunset Blvd at dusk, the street was glowing all neon reds and purples. Another half a lude was doing it's work on me and once more I found myself at that stage of blessed calm mixed with extra arousal. It was a very warm night, almost eighty degrees after the sun went down...I knew that right now, back home in Jersey, it was cold and raining. Could I ever go back to that when now I was in the land of sex and money and warmth?

Aaron parked the V.W. behind an old warehouse and we got out and hit the streets. We both wore impossibly tight Levi's. Aaron wore a faded Bicentennial shirt that was cut at the waist revealing his taught little belly, and I wore a plain red t-shirt tucked in to my pants. Then we found a corner near an all night deli and stood near the phone both and waited to be cruised by lonely, horny men...this was what Aaron meant when he said we would be "Drumming up business".

On the corner he repeated his safety rules to me; don't get into a car alone ... try and get the money up-front ... if you are getting bad vibes from a john, walk away... I kept a roll of quaters in my pocket, which I learned, would come in useful if you had to throw a punch with a little something extra behind it; funny, for all these warnings and cautions, I felt no fear.

A fat little man with broken glasses sided up to me that first night and asked, "How much to suck you off?" I told him and he nodded his head and we walked over to the alley. I could still see Aaron from my vantage point as I stood propped up against a brick wall, a dumpster hiding me and the man from prying eyes . Before he went down on his knees I said, "Money". And he smiled nervously and said, "Of course", and shoved a handful of cash at me which I flicked through and then put in my pocket. The man got down on his knees and I undid my pants and let him go at it. As I remember it, he was pretty good at cock-sucking and I surprised myself by shooting my load into his mouth. When we were done the man wiped at his lips with a hanky and said, "Thank you" and then disappeared into the night; and just like that, I made twenty five bucks...

...and that's how it went for the rest of the night, and for the next few nights. We'd work a different corner and mostly have guys suck our cocks...most nights we came home with a few hundred dollars between us ... one night this older man, he must have been almost seventy, invited us both to go back to his place, a little apartment he kept in North Hollywood and he paid us both two hundred a piece if he could jerk off while he watched us make out... another time we both took a limo ride with these two middle-aged men and gave them blow jobs while they discussed the stock market with each other; we pulled in three hundred for that gig, plus a couple of stock tips ...

Now don't get me wrong, it was not all cash and cum: one night this guy, a big tough looking bruiser, asked if he could fuck me, Aaron had already made a connection and was in a hotel down the street with his john, but I was feeling brave and told him if he had fifty bucks he could do what he wanted. The next thing I knew I was in another back alley getting fucked by the bruiser ... with the smallest cock I'd ever seen in my life. I wanted him to enjoy himself so I groaned and moaned and put on a good show. When he finished, he pulled out and came all over my back and as I turned around, I was met by his large ham sized fist; the son of a bitch sucker punched me, and as I lay on the ground he went for my pants saying, "Where's the money, faggot?" I was dazed at first, and I don't know what I was thinking but I managed to slam my left foot into his crotch, effectively dropping the bastard. As he lay on the ground cursing and holding his aching balls, I dressed quickly and then reached for his wallet and took out the contents, which was about three hundred bucks. I threw the empty billfold at him and kicked him once more, this time in the face and then ran faster than I had in my entire life until I got back to Aaron's car where I waited (that was our designated meet up spot - the car, we both had a set of keys for the bug so whomever was finished up for the night would hang out and wait for the other to get back)...When he finally did get back and he saw the bruise , just under my left eye, he got a look of panic on his face...until I told him what had happened, "You tough little, mother fucker!" He said wiping my face with a clean handkerchief, "you fucked him up and took his money!?!? Damn, remind me never to fuck with you!" we laughed as he drove the car back to the hotel where he still had an hour before check out. We both washed up and on our way back to the car I said, "Hey, I am so riled up tonight, let's go somewhere"...

...twenty minutes later we were at a disco on Santa Monica Blvd. We ordered a couple of beers and washed down a couple of tabs of MDMA and hit the dance floor and under the flashing lights and pulsating beat, we became like two whirling dervishes. The music, I remember, seemed to be coming from within, and we tore our shirts off and danced surrounded by other men doing the same; like some tribe of pagan revelers, and though I could feel my eye swelling shut, I felt so fucking great and every now and again, Aaron would come up to me, to my face, and kiss me, and the music seemed to grow louder, the thumping bass like my own heart beat, and when he put his arms around me and started slowly grinding, smashing his thighs up against mine so I could feel the pressure of his magnificent cock against me; every time he did this, I felt orgasmic waves ripple through me and when he leaned forward and yelled into my ear above the din, "Man, I want to fuck you so bad now..." I took his hand and lead him off the dance floor to somewhere, anywhere, that we might be able to get down to some serious action.

In the back of the club, was a room. Old sofas where strewn about as well as bodies; this was a place where men had anonymous couplings. We found an empty spot and took our clothes off and I lay on the couch and he mounted me, his beautiful hair flapping about his head while he fucked me, and once more I marveled over his expertise at what he did and the way he did it and he fucked me savagely and passionately while his sweat dripped off of his body on to mine and the heavy bass of the disco music from the other room, along with the drugs and alcohol that were coursing through my veins, lead me down a rabbit hole of pleasure -- and just before he came, he bent down, all the way so that he could kiss me and I could feel his juice shoot inside of me and our kiss was prolonged and it was followed by my orgasm. I came in buckets that only a nineteen year old punk, stoned out of his gourd can. And when I was done, and while I was trying catch my breath, he slid off of me and began licking the jizz from my chest and stomach. I watched him do this and realized that my cock was still hard, that I still yearned for more. And then he kissed me and I tasted him, and I tasted myself and I closed my eyes and thanked whatever obscene twist of fate had brought me to this place.

It was the most sincere prayer of thanks I had ever given in my young life.

END, PART THREE