This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at johntheartist@hotmail.com. Please Contribute to Nifty.org and keep this wonderful resource going!
In the previous chapter, C'est La Vie! 13, I described how I celebrated my 30th birthday with a trip to San Francisco, and hooking up with a hot high-school coach, at my cruisy motel in the Castro
C'est La Vie!: 1988, Birthday-2
After Dan went back to his room, I dressed in jeans and sneakers and headed out for a little walk. I just wanted to get some air, peruse some of the posters in the neighborhood, and get a sense of what was going on that weekend.
Fifteen minutes later, I was hanging out in a bookstore across the street, on my way back to the room to relax before going out for some dinner, and cruising the bars. There was a lot of evening ahead of me; no need to rush things, and I had had a good start on my week with Dan already.
In the bookstore, I picked up a copy of the Bay Area Reporter, the local gay paper with lots of listings for events and ads for all sorts of gay-oriented places and services, plus news of interest to gay readers.
Back in my room, I scanned the news, looked through a lot of the ads, and circled a couple of events that I thought might be interesting for the week coming up. I turned to the personals at the back and started scanning them. The BAR always has a big number of ads for male escorts, some with pictures and some without.
I had never considered hiring an escort: I had no trouble finding hot guys whenever I wanted. But there in the classifieds was a picture of the sort of guy that I lusted after, and only infrequently was able to hook up with. The picture showed a defined torso from a lean chin, to just the top of his pubes: kind of a gay man's dream, like some of the hottest boys in the porn videos.
He had a fantastic set of pecs, the most defined abs I have seen in a long time, and nicely muscled but not too-bulked-up arms. The copy read: BRAD, 26, 6'0", 165, BR/BLU, AFF/VERS, ENDOWED, $125. There was a phone number, being the days before the internet was the go-to place for such things. Back then in SF, a lot of escorts were charging $125, some more, some less, according to the other ads.
His body was killer, and if his face was less than perfect, well, you could always turn off the lights, right? I wondered about the expertise of guys that do sex for pay: if they were any better, or more accommodating than the average hookup, or if they knew any "tricks of the pros". Hell, it was my birthday, and I felt I could afford a bit of a splurge, and I was always up for trying almost anything once. I decided to give him a call. No need to hire him just because I called him.
I dialed the number, and got his answering machine, said I was in SF from the east coast, staying in the Castro, and wondered if he was available later that night. I thought "With a body like that, I bet he is booked solid, so don't get your hopes up."
To my surprise, a few minutes later, I got the call-back. "Hey, this is Brad. You called me a few minutes ago?" Nice voice. Sincere, or practiced at sounding sincere.
"Yeah," I said. "I wondered if you were available around 10 tonight."
"Well, actually, I had an appointment for an overnight with a regular clien--a doctor--but he got an emergency call and had to bail. He just called."
"I guess too bad for you, but lucky for me," I said.
"No big deal. Goes with the territory. What are you looking for?"
"Well, I gotta say that if your picture is accurateÉ"
"It is," he interrupted.
"Then you're what I want."
"What do you like to do?"
"I'm versatile. Lots of kissing gets me going, a nice soft touch, oral, anal, trading places, lying, sitting, standing, in bed, in the shower, top, bottom, you name it, I guess, but I'm not into pain and humiliation. I like to take my time and enjoy as much of a guy as I can. I'm visiting a week for a birthday celebration, so I thought I would treat myself. I've never been with an escort before, but I do hook up a lot, in case you might think that I have never done it with a man."
"Cool," he said. "You want an hour, or two, or the night?"
"You advertise $125, I assume that's an hour. What if I want more?"
"Additional hours are $75, and overnight is $400 up `til ten tomorrow," he said.
"Can we start with an hour and see how it goes?" I asked.
"Sure, no problem," he said, "unless I get a call for a later appointment or an overnight."
"OK," I said. "I'll keep my fingers crossed about tonight, but take my chances. I'm here a week, so if I want more, I'll set it up with you, OK?"
I told him where I was staying and the room and he said, "I know it well. See you at ten."
This was exciting. New territory, new experiences. This trip was getting off to a good start, I thought.
My cock was semi-hard after that conversation, and I started fantasizing about what would happen at when he showed up at ten. Actually, I felt like a nervous wreck, like a teenage girl on her first date with the quarterback. This was insane. Jesus, I was almost--in a few days--30!
I decided to go out for dinner. There are a lot of restaurants in the Castro neighborhood, and if they are not the best-rated ones in SF, there are a lot of acceptable choices. I got dinner at a Thai restaurant. Nothing special, but tasty and filling. It was about eight when I was done, and I walked up and down Castro for about a half-hour, window shopping, seeing what was at the movies, just taking in the scene.
I settled in at a bar that I had been to many times befor--with some past success, I might ad--and ordered a beer. It was early, but there were a few older guys hoping to hook up with some young meat for the night. Also, a few younger men, cruising what was available at that hour. No problem though, the night was young and there would be a lot of pickings later if my escort date was less than I wanted.
As I stood over at one side of the room, nursing the one beer I allowed myself, so that I would be all I could be when ten o'clock rolled around, a shorter, slight young guy came into the bar, got a beer and wandered over until he was near me. He was slightly effeminate in his affect, but pretty cute: slim with what looked like a nice, tight body, natural though, not the result of a lot of gym work.
We glanced at each other a couple of times, and then he moved closer to me and said "How's it goin', man?"
"OK," I said, "a nice night for hangin' loose and relaxing."
"You from here?" he asked. "I haven't seen you before."
"No, Philly," I said. "Just here for a week vacation. You?"
"I'm from the LA area, but going to school at SF State," he said. "San Francisco is way cooler than where I'm from, especially around here," and he gestured to indicate the neighborhood. "If you're here, you gotta be lookin' for some action, eh?"
"That's what this neighborhood is about," I said. "You looking too?"
"Well, duh," he said flashing a smile. "Actually, you're pretty hot. You wanna go have some fun together?" This guy got straight to the point!
"You're a sexy little dude," I said, "but I have a hot date at ten tonight."
"That's cool," he said. "I'm in here a few nights a week around nine after I'm done studying, so maybe I'll see you some other night." He smiled, winked, and moved off in search of his fun.
I stayed nursing the same beer until about a quarter to ten, talked to a few other guys, but mostly just liked looking at the scene, both in the bar and outside, which was not like any other gay neighborhood in America.
I left the bar, and walked the couple of blocks to the motel, getting increasingly more excited as I got closer to my meeting with Brad. I went into the room, brushed my teeth, put on some more antiperspirant, and threw a bandana over the lampshade to dim the light a bit. I sat down nervously on the bed to wait, my cock getting hard in anticipation, my heart beating faster. I couldn't remember the last date I had had that had me so excited in anticipation.
Ten o'clock passed, and I thought, "oh no, stood up," but a couple of minutes later there was a soft knock on the door. I looked through the peep-hole and there he was. I opened the door, and he smiled broadly at me, held out is hand and said "John? I'm Brad." I took his hand and shook it firmly, and stepped back for him to come into the room.
He looked around, smiling when he saw my collection of sex toys. He was a very handsome guy, chiseled features, curly brown hair, and very blue eyes, like those Italian renaissance paintings of young noblemen. He was wearing a white muscle shirt that fitted tightly on his ripped torso, and a pair of 501s without any belt. Nice bulge down there, I couldn't help noticing. He sat on the side of the bed, and patted the mattress for me to sit down next to him.
"So, it's your birthday?" he said. "Can I ask which one?"
"30, in two days," I answered.
"You are a hell-of-a-good-looking thirty. Good place to celebrate," he said. "Lots of fun in San Francisco."
"I'm glad that you could come over tonight," I said.
"Me too. Most of my appointments are with older guys, often overweight, many married. I make sure they all have a good time, `cuz that's what I do. It's not that often that I get a call from the kind of guy I would pick up myself." And saying that, he leaned over to me and softly kissed my lips. "We're gonna have a good time, I think," he said softly.
He then put his hand around my neck and pulled me into a deeper kiss. He was a helluva kisser, I'll say. His tongue pushed into my mouth, and wrestled with mine, or we separated our lips and let our tongues lash at one another. And while we were doing that, I felt his hand gently move down my back, touching it lightly with his fingertips. I put one arm around his back and felt the hard muscles under his shirt, and my other hand moved over to feel his chest, and then turned to let my knuckles move down over the tight washboard of his abs, and rest on his muscular thigh. It had been a while since I had been with such a ripped guy, with virtually no fat on his body, and I was trembling with excitement.
We made out like that for a few minutes, and then I pulled his shirt out of his jeans and eased my hand under it to feel his smooth skin and taught muscles underneath. He took the cue, and pushed my shirt up and eased it over my head. He pulled away from our kiss and let his eyes move up and down my body. Mine was nowhere near the ideal his was, but, as I said before, not bad, and he smiled appreciatively.
I took my turn to do the same to him, pulling his shirt slowly up, and feeling his torso and chest as I did so. I stood up next to the bed, and pulled him to a standing position as he raised his arms and I pushed his shirt off. His body was truly incredible, even better than the picture in the paper. His erect nipples showed his excitement and poked out of his pecs provocatively. A glance at his pants showed that his cock was ready for action too.
We stood together, pressing our chests against one another and kissing, letting our hands move over each other's bodies and slowly grinding our cocks together like a slow sensuous dance. I held his face between my hands, and looked into his beautiful blue eyes, and we smiled at each other. "Man, this is wonderful. I'm so excited that you could be here with me to start a week I'm hoping I'll remember for a long time," I said. "My cock feels like it's gonna burst, I'm so hard."
"I think we need to help that out a bit right now," he said, and he started to unbuckle my belt, and then undo the button on my jeans and slide the zipper down. As the zipper slid over my hard cock, I moaned loudly from the little tingle it gave me. He pulled me to him and lightly slipped his fingers into my fly, feeling the outlines of my erection while his tongue pushed into my mouth again.
We separated, me gasping for breath, he smiling again, and I unbuttoned his waist and then his fly and did the same: easing my fingers in to feel his boner. Like the ad in the paper said, he was endowed. I estimated about eight inches and pretty thick, curving up just slightly. As I touched him, he moaned softly and nuzzled my neck, then kissed me on the ear and shoved his tongue in, pulling our bodies close again.
"God, I gotta see that cock," I whispered, and moved back to push his 501s down his thighs, shoving them all the way to the floor and helping him to step out of them. When they were off, I rocked back a bit, still kneeling in front of him, so that I could look at him nearly naked. He was wearing low-rise white briefs, and they stretched tightly over his erection, lying to one side. I reached out and traced its outlines with my fingertips, fascinated at its beautiful curve, and its hardness. I bent forward and started to mouth the sides with gentle bites and nibbles, and he shoved it toward my mouth and held my head close as I worked him over.
Then he pulled me to standing again, and we kissed, our bodies and cocks pressing together, his pelvis making slow thrusting motions at mine. "Time to lose those pants," he said, and he bent down to do what I had just done to him, mouthing my erection through my briefs. I thought I might lose it right then, I was so excited, but I shifted my thoughts elsewhere so that I wouldn't go over the edge so soon.
We'd been taking our time, and we were probably fifteen or twenty minutes into our session together when I said, "Sit on the bed." He obeyed, and I knelt on the floor in front of him. Of all the things I can do with another man, this is one of my favorite, even though it is so obvious, regular and, well, common: to start the serious stuff servicing another guy while kneeling in front of him. I love the view: a hard cock, and nice set of balls, a pair of meaty thighs on either side, sometimes a little love trail, and with a man like Brad, the view over his abs and chest to the smile on his face as I work him over.
I gently pushed his legs apart and felt their powerful thighs and the nice coat of straight hair on them, not too heavy, just nice and masculine. I eyed the full sack of his balls, enclosed in his briefs, and the arch of his hard cock lying to one side, looking even bigger, now that it was so close to me. I looked over it, as he leaned back on his elbows, his ripped abs forming a series of hills and valleys, foothills for his beautiful pecs. I leaned forward and started mouthing his cock through his briefs again, soaking them with my saliva, moving my hands up to gently feel his torso as I worked his cock. He was moaning, and I knew that this was no act that he was putting on for his client. He was really enjoying himself, and that made me feel good and even sexier.
I looked up at him, and said "Gotta taste it, Brad."
"What'r you waitin' for?" he asked.
So I hooked my fingers into his waist-band and pulled his briefs over his cock, which sprang up and flopped against his belly before coming to rest pointing up at his chin. I took him in my hand and looked closely at my prize. His cock was beautiful, not terribly veiny, cut, thicker width-wise than from top to underside, a nice head almost shiny from the skin stretched tight by his hard erection. I took it in my hand. There was no floppiness at all, it was so hard. I bent close and smelled the fresh soapy scent of his body, with a slight whiff of sweat from our activity and the warm room. I put my two hands together and held his cock between my outstretched fingers as I kissed the tip.
I looked up at him and he smiled, and said "Go for it John, it's all yours."
I started by kissing the tip, then running my tongue around the glans, down the underside to his balls. I held his cock while I kissed and licked his balls and rolled each one in my mouth before moving back up the underside with my wet lips and then down along the top side. I held his cock up straight and swirled my fingertips gently around the head, smiling up at him. Then I put my lips at the tip, and slowly took him into my throat, inch by inch.
I took my time, moving up and down on his hard cock, swirling and twisting my lips around it, sometimes giving a little action with my teeth. He moaned appreciatively, whispering Yes from time to time as I worked to pleasure him. I would break and kiss his thighs, work my mouth and tongue up over his abs and chest to his mouth, work on one nipple and then the other, and then work my way back down again.
My own cock was throbbing almost painfully in anticipation of what was still to come, and I pulled it out of my briefs and slowly stroked myself as I sucked his cock. His cock was a mouthful, but the more I worked on him, the more comfortable I became and though my jaw ached for a while from stretching wide for his big cock, eventually, it felt just right, and I felt that I could keep it up almost forever.
That was not to be, right now, because after face-fucking me a while, thrusting into my throat, he pulled out, saying "I'm gonna cum soon if you keep that up, John. You're really good pleasuring another man."
"Thanks," I said, taking it as a compliment from a guy who had obviously had a lot of experience with all kinds of guys.
"Your turn," he said.
I got off the floor, and he sat up, pulling me to him. He pulled my briefs down all the way and I stepped out of them. Then, without any prelude, plunged his hot mouth all the way down on my hard cock. I was surprised that I didn't cum right then, my excitement level was so high, but again, I sent my thoughts elsewhere until the sensation went away. He slurped hungrily at my cock for maybe five minutes, before he said, "Why don't you get comfortable on the bed?"
I did as he suggested, and propped myself up with the pillows at the head of the bed, lying with my legs spread. He knelt over me, kissing me as I felt his strong arms and shoulders, and gently pushed him back to working on my cock. He got me in his throat again, working with his tongue and lips, and stretched out on the bottom of the bed, his hips grinding his cock into the bed, fucking the mattress and he worked his oral magic.
"Oh, baby, you're bringing me awful close," I said, and he paused to work my balls, and kiss my thighs. Then he pushed my legs apart and up, rolling me back on my shoulders a little so that my ass was available to him. He worked over my balls and then started working lower and lower until he was poking his hot, wet tongue into my ass. Oh, did that feel good! I moaned loudly and he knew he was at the right place at the right time.
He rimmed me for perhaps five minutes, though it seemed like an eternity since I was aching so bad to cum. He nearly sent me over the edge with his rimming, not even touching my cock, but working with his hands on my belly, chest and nipples as he did so. I took his hand and moved it to my mouth, taking in a couple of his fingers and sucking on them while he drove my ass crazy with his tongue.
Finally, he came back up to kiss me, and pulled me down flat on the bed out of my semi-seated position, and lay down on me full length, grinding my cock against his as our lips locked together again. I wrapped my legs around his strong thighs, and he pushed himself up on his arms, shoving his pelvis against mine, dry fucking me.
"Wait a sec," I said, and reached over to the pump bottle of lube on the bedside table, getting a couple of big globs and spreading it around our cocks and bellies. He resumed his dry fucking, and I put my hands on his shoulders, chest and abs as he worked. All his tight muscles were tensed and defined, and there was a look of pure pleasure on his face.
A couple of minutes of that was more than I could take. "Ya gotta fuck me now, Brad," I managed to gasp.
"I'm not too big for you?" he asked.
"No, right now the bigger the better. Anyway, I can get some help relaxing," I said, picking up the bottle of poppers from the bedside table. He knelt over me, grabbing a condom from next to the bed, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it on, then grabbing a good dollop of lube to lube himself up. He pushed my legs apart and up, as I opened the poppers and took a good long draw from each nostril. Another dollop of lube, and he was probing my ass with his fingers. I was just beginning to feel the delayed hit of the poppers, and begged him "Please give me your cock, baby."
He held my legs apart and positioned the head of his cock at my waiting hole and slowly pushed in, past my sphincter, all the way to his balls. With the rush of the poppers and him lowering his body to kiss me deeply as he bottomed out, I was in seventh heaven. "Oh, man, that feels so fine," I gasped. "Fuck me long and slow."
And that is exactly what he did. For the next ten minutes Ñ ten minutes of incredible ecstasy Ñ he slowly pushed his big cock in and out of my ass, twisting it to one side or the other, bending to kiss me, then lightly running his hands over my chest or legs, making every part of the experience an incredible sensation. His beautiful torso straining against me was like the best sculpture I had ever seen, glistening slightly with sweat. He smiled, I smiled, we were both having a great time.
After ten minutes, he started to pick up the pace a little, and, holding my ankles out, started heading toward his finish. I grabbed one of his hands off my ankle, and guided it to my throbbing cock, took another hit of the poppers, and after a few seconds of his stroking, started spurting cum all over my chin, neck and chest as the poppers hit once more and I almost melted in ecstasy. A few seconds later, he shoved his cock in hard and held it there, bending forward to lock his lips to mine as if felt his hard-on throb strongly in my ass while he climaxed. After the initial shots, he started slowly fucking me again as his climax tapered off, still slowly stroking my cock.
My cum squished between our chests as he lay on me and slowly pulled his cock out. We were both breathless, and wordless for now, just holding each other tightly and kissing like we couldn't get enough. We both kind of dozed off, though kept lightly caressing each other for the next five minutes or so.
Finally, I regained my composure enough to speak. "That was incredible, Brad. What a fantastic experience for me. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."
"Yeah," he said, "that was really good; the best fuck I have had for a long time." Maybe he was just saying it, since his job was to make me feel like the best lover ever, but I think he really meant it.
"After that, I would really love it if you could spend the night," I said.
"I'd like that too," he replied, and kissed me again.
We lay there together for another forty-five minutes or so, just enjoying each other's company, and the post-fuck intimacy. He asked me about my work and I described what I was doing as an artist. He seemed genuinely interested, and asked questions that indicated that he knew a lot about the visual arts. It turned out that a lot of his friends were artists, and he occasionally wrote reviews for some of the local media.
I asked about his life outside of escorting. He said that he studied writing in college, and he was getting work as a freelance writer, doing articles for magazines, sometimes writing manuals when other stuff was scarce, but trying to clear as much time as possible for writing short stories and working on a novel that he had started a few months ago. He said he started working as an escort in college, to help pay his bills, and he not only enjoyed it, but found that he met a wide variety of men through escorting, and that some of them had provided inspirations for characters in his stories and novels, so, not only was the money helpful to freeing his time from freelance work, the experiences helped his inspiration.
I asked about his incredible body: "You must spend a lot of time at the gym," I said.
"Not all that much, really. I work out for an hour three or four times a week. I'm lucky to have good genes, and my brothers and dad all have similar builds. I'm just blessed that way, I guess. I hope I can look as good in a swim suit when I am 50 as my dad does."
"How about a shower?" I asked.
"You're on," he said, and we both headed into the bathroom to clean up for our next session. I was already getting ideas about what that would be.