Polish Dancer
Back in the dim reaches of time, before the plague of AIDS, I lived in New York with my wife and son. We were not getting along well, and she had brought up the subject of divorce and seemed to be moving toward making that decision. I felt the sparkle had long since gone out of our relationship, and made the decision that I wouldn't oppose the split, if I could keep visitation rights with my son. He was 15 years old, and he and I were real buddies. Not having him in my life would be the biggest loss from not having her in my life any longer. Her absence would be a relief in many ways.
I'd moved out of our apartment into the loft apartment of some friends who were teaching for a year in Africa. I had the keys to their place, because I'd volunteered to water the plants and feed their fish. After about the third day, I was getting bored and thought that after work on Friday night, I'd eat some dinner somewhere and take in a movie. I didn't mind the alone time, and wasn't interested in calling any of my friends to get together either.
When I clocked out Friday evening it was almost seven and I decided to grab a quick bite at Nathan's Hot dog deli on Times Square, and try to make the first show of a film I'd been thinking of seeing. After a couple of hot dogs and a soft drink, I left for the theater which was across the square, and uptown about three blocks. I worked my way through the heavy traffic across both Seventh Avenue, and Broadway, and finally stepped up to the theater kiosk to buy a ticket. The woman in the booth was busy counting bills, and glanced at me and said the show had already been running for half an hour.
I shrugged, and put my billfold away. I walked up the street, wondering what I could do for awhile until the next show started. I looked at stuff in windows for awhile, and finally noticed a steady stream of guys going and coming out of a doorway. I got a little closer, and saw the door opened into a long flight of stairs. Several guys were climbing at the time, and one guy was making his way down. I I waited for him to reach the street level, and asked him what was going on upstairs.
"It's a live sex show," he snickered, brushing past me and merging into the crowds on the sidewalk. I looked around and looked back up the stairs, then shrugged to myself, and started up the stairs. I had never seen a live sex show, not even when I'd been in the Navy and stationed close enough to Tijuana, Mexico to visit the sleazy bars there on occasion.
At the top of the stairs, a door opened into a small room with a ticket window in one wall. I paid ten bucks and was directed into the theater, which was behind a heavy black painted fire door. As I approached it, I heard the heavy beat and several voices making cat calls. I pushed through the door, and walked into a smoke filled room with several rows of beaten up old theater seats, most filled with men who were shouting to the people on the stage.
I was dumb struck for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the dim theater and the brightly lighted stage. On the platform, two men were laying on a cot type bed, sucking each other's dicks. Shouts of 'Suck'em, and shoot that cum!' filled the claustrophobic space. Fascinated, I found a seat near the door, and decided to stay for a few minutes. The scene on stage was reaching a climax, and both guys, grunted and moaned dramatically, and grabbing their cocks, stood up facing the audience. Several men rushed the stage, and the two actors, stood egging them on, jerking their stiff cocks. They both stiffened their bodies and started spraying cum on the assembled men in front of them.
The pathetic fags trying to catch the flying cum were fighting over the gobs and sucking it off their fingers when they were lucky enough to latch onto a slime ball. I was disgusted. The two cock suckers, finished, bounded off the stage, and the music changed to more of a dance tune. The cum eaters scrambled for their seats, and the room started to vibrate as the crowd started stamping their feet to the beat of the music.
The lights on the stage turned from deep blue to hot red. The curtain at the back of the stage parted, and five naked young men danced onto the stage, Their long dicks all twirling around like Chaplin's cane. They quickly formed a dance line at the front of the stage and began to grind their hips and thrusting their cocks at the audience. The audience went wild, and I began to get into the antics of the audience. At first, I wasn't the least interested in watching the five guys slinging their butts on the stage, but finally began to notice their lithe young hard bodies, and began to appreciate the buff muscular beauty dancing on the stage.
Too soon, the tune came to a thumping, grinding halt, and the five guys jumped off the stage in a line, and ran into the audience and picked some of the more enthusiastic audience members and sat in their laps. Most of the men who suddenly found a naked dancer in their laps, grabbed cocks, and started sucking, and licking their glistening sweat covered torsos. The dancers didn't allow it to proceed too far, before moving off their laps and danced to the back of the theater and out the door, followed by the hooting and screaming of the audience, following their departure hungrily with their twisted eyes.
The lights on the stage returned to a deep blue, and an announcer's voice spoke over the noise of the audience, offering private sessions with the boys of the Jewel Box Theater. Anyone wishing to indulge in a private session was directed to go to the ticket booth and pay an additional twenty dollar fee, and pick a room from across the hall. The tickets were first come first serve, and the boys where waiting, totally nude and all sexed up.
Four guys got up immediately, and left the theater. The lights went down, and a movie screen dropped out of the ceiling, and a grainy black and white gay porno film began playing across it. Most of the guys got up and started filing out the door. Apparently the show was over for the time being. I sat there, watching the gay porn, not having seen anything like it before, and soon, had the theater pretty much to myself, except for a guy up near the stage who appeared to be drunk or drugged, and sleeping.
The door behind me opened, suddenly, slashing the darkened theater with a stab of bright light. My eyes were dazzled by the light for a moment, and suddenly somebody was sliding into my lap. I put my hands on the body, and felt it was nude. One of the dancers my mind flashed, and I leaned back, trying to avoid the guy's cock. He leaned over, and put his tongue in my ear. I couldn't help the reaction it caused in my body. I shivered under him.
He was whispering something in my ear that I couldn't understand. It sounded like Polish, which I'd heard spoken at the wedding of one of my coworkers who had married into a large Polish family in Brooklyn. I told him I didn't understand him, and that I wasn't interested in sex with him and that he was wasting his time. I pushed him off my lap, and he stood up grabbing my hand. He put my palm over his hard cock, and rubbed it around fucking it with his rocking hips. "Free," he whispered. "Free first time."
He pulled me through the door into the bright lights of the hall. I glanced at the ticket booth, and saw two men inside talking and smoking. Neither of them even bothered to look at us. The nude boy, dragged me to the end of the hall and into a darkened room. He dropped my hand, and turned on a small lamp on a table beside a twin size bed. The room smelled of disinfectant, and something else, I couldn't quite place. He picked up my hand again, and led me to the bed, which he flopped down on, and raised his legs into the air. I could see his stiff cock laying up his stomach, and almost reaching his belly button. His large balls were rolling in their sack, and his little butt hole was winking at me. I stared in fascination, dumb struck at how I'd ended up in this room with a fag who was obviously expecting to have some sort of sex with me.
"Forget it," I said, turning away and trying to open the door. I found it was locked. He waved a key on a band around his wrist at me and laughed.
"Suck mister?" He slipped off the bed, and was suddenly on the floor with his mouth on my cock nipping me with his lips through my slacks. My old dick reacted, and thickened up a little. He felt the change, and looked up at me with his large liquid eyes. He smiled, and using his teeth and tongue, worked my zipper down. His thin warm hand wormed its way into my fly and I felt another man touch my stiffening cock for the first time since the doctor had held it to lop off my foreskin when I was a few minutes old.
"Nize, so nize" he murmured, and hauled my old pecker out of my trousers. I was going totally stiff by then, and jerked my hips involuntarily as his mouth closed over my cock head. Man! I hadn't felt a mouth on my dick since Sally green had blown me in the back seat of my dad's car my senior year in high school. This guy was good, and I began to rock my hips, feeding him a little more dick with each thrust. It wasn't long before he had the whole thing down his throat. He began to take control sucking and bobbing his head on my dick. I raised up on my tiptoes, and began to shake with pleasure I hadn't felt during sex in several years.
"Fuuuck. . ." I moaned, mumbling the word through rigid lips. The kid, who didn't look a day over 18 to me, looked up with my cock buried in his mouth and then popped off my spit slicked shaft.
"You fuck me?" He was grinning, and didn't wait for an answer. He was instantly working on my belt buckle, and in a few moments, I was as naked as he was, and he was rolling a condom down my raging shaft. He laid down on the bed on his back, and raised his legs again. I lost all sense of myself, and stepped up to him and just put my dick to the entrance to his hole, and pushed into him. He wiggled his ass, and began rocking on my cock as I slid into his hot clutching butt hole. He had a big smile on his face, and reached over to turn on a small radio sitting next to the lamp on the table beside the bed.
Disco music filled the room with an insistent beat, and he began to rock his hips in time to the music. He was twisting and turning on the bed, and his long slim legs were writhing in the air. I just stood there buried balls deep in his butt, while he danced to Donna summer on my cock with his hole. I was getting into the scene. It was the most interesting sex I'd ever experienced in my life, and I started fucking him in earnest. In moments the room was reeling around my head, and my breath was coming in gasps. He seemed hardly to notice, and kept up his dance on my cock.
Suddenly, his ass ring clamped down on my cock, and I opened my eyes, to see his balls pulled up tight to the base of his long stiff dick. He was about to shoot. He froze on my shaft for a moment, gasped for a breath of air, and squeezed my shaft tighter with his sphincter, and started shooting his cum. The first gob. flew across his shoulder, and splatted against the red painted wall. I watched it begin to slide down slowly, and I felt him tighten up again and a second gob flew to join the first. There was a third and forth and after a moment, a fifth. He let out a long hiss of air, and his cock began to ooze a thick sticky puddle of cum onto his golden skin.
I hadn't cum yet, but wasn't too far from it, so I started fucking him harder. He kept tightening and loosening his sphincter on my cock, and the sensations were incredible. He suddenly reached under, and squeezed my nuts gently, and used his free hand to begin to tweak my nipples. Before I knew what was happening to me, I was delirious with sexual heat, and over the top. I poured my nuts into the condom, and shivered through a long exquisite climax the like of which I'd never experienced with any woman.
The experience of his tight hole wrapped around my cock was without doubt the best fuck of my life. Without thinking, I pulled my softening cock out of his body, and laid down across his chest, and kissed him with my tongue. He returned the kiss passionately, and put his arms around me and hugged me tightly to his nakedness. I stayed with him cuddling for several more minutes, before he pushed me away and sat up. He looked suddenly sad, and took my hand in his, and examined my wedding ring.
With large eyes misting over, he looked into my eyes, and put my hand with the ring next to his cheek and rubbed it over his slightly stubble covered skin. I sat up, and looked at him in silence. He laid his head on my chest, and I heard a small sob. I raised his face to look into it, and he had real tears in his eyes. I lowered my lips to his and kissed him tenderly on the eye lids. He sobbed again.
"What's the matter son?" I wondered at his tears.
"I alone." he whispered. I didn't understand at first. Then it hit me.
"You're lonely. . ."
"Yes," he said with passion kissing my chest and neck. "Lonely."
"Don't you have anyone here?"
"I Polack," his eyes were watery with passion.
"You mean Polish. You're Polish." I stroked his hair to comfort him.
"Yes. I am Polish alone in America. My Papa send me to school, but my English no good. They don't like me."
I thought about his words for a moment, and said nothing. After a minute, someone pounded on the door. He sat up quickly and wiped the tears off his face, sniffling his runny nose. He looked very young at that moment, and I hugged him tightly to my body, with fleeting thoughts of my son.
"I dance again," he sighed sadly, and stood next to the bed. With a sad look, he unlocked the door and stood in the opening briefly looking back at me still sitting nude on the bed. The soft glow of the dim lamp colored his skin with red tones, and the harsh bright light from the hall, raked across his features from the opposite direction throwing his handsome face into beautiful relief. Then he was gone.
I dressed, and made myself presentable again, combing my hair in a small flaking mirror on the back of the door. I stepped into the glaring hall and stood letting my eyes adjust to the brightness. I saw men paying and going into the theater. Another show was in progress if the pounding beat coming through the door each time it opened to allow a man to enter. I turned and started for the stairs.
two or three steps down, I stopped, and went back up. I stepped to the theater door, but before I could open it, the guy in the ticket booth shouted that I needed to pay again if I was going into the show. I passed him a ten dollar bill, and walked quickly into the darkened theater. He was on the stage again this time alone, and dancing with a slow grinding beat, pulling on his thick cock for the men in the audience. I watched him for a moment before I realized he had his eyes closed, and the expression on his face was too sad to contemplate. He spun around to the music and spread his legs, and began rocking his hips in the fucking motion I'd so recently experienced for real. When he turned to face the audience again, his eyes were open and he saw me standing at the back of the theater.
Just then, the door opened behind me and I must have been suddenly silhouetted by the hall light. He raised his hand to block the light, and I saw him smile as he recognized me. His dance picked up a little, and he was getting into his groove, obviously, all for me. Somehow I was touched and felt my heart flutter at this charming Polish dancer's smile. I took a seat in the back, and watched as he danced for me and me alone even though the room was filled with shouting and groaning men. Before I knew it the song ended and he was gone. The lights changed again, and the two men who I'd seen sucking each other earlier took the stage.
I was about to get up and leave, when the door behind me opened again, and I was attacked in my seat by the beautiful kid. This time he was dressed in Levis and a white tshirt. His loafers were pulled on without socks. I kissed him, and he kissed me.
"I quit," he squealed in a happy boyish voice. "No dancing here no more."
"What will you do now?"
"I go with you. You an' me together; yes?"
My mind reeled at the suggestion, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to explore a gay lifestyle with this beautiful lithe dancer. I pushed him off my lap, and stood up. I took his hand, and we pushed through the theater door together. Down on the street, I looked both ways feeling suddenly lost and cut loose from all I knew to be me. I looked down at him, a full head shorter than my six foot four frame. We stood there breathing the night air of Time Square with its myriad smells of garbage and food and human hunger all around us. I took his hand again and pulled him to me quickly and kissed him on the mouth. He melted into me and kissed me back.
Two men walking by at that moment, muttered "Oh Mary. Look they're so in love." A male and female couple glared at us as they passed, and I heard the hissed word 'Faggots' directed at me for the first time. I cringed at the word, but didn't break off the kiss. The boy needed me to be there for him, to love him and be stable for him. When the kiss broke for lack of air, I took his hand and led him into the square South toward the subway entrance.
On the train to SoHo, we held hands, and he looked at me with his big limpid eyes. I felt him grasp my hand in an ever tightening grip. He was having fears I couldn't imagine, and who knew what thoughts were flying around in his head. A woman sitting across from us looked disgustedly at us, muttering under her breath. The boy closed his eyes, and laid his head on my shoulder. I felt numb with what I was doing. Just an hour before, I'd been on her side seeing something like the picture the boy and I were presenting.
At my stop, I pulled him up and we got off the train. The woman said something negative which I only understood by her body language. On the street again out of the subway tunnel, we were a block away from the loft where I was temporarily staying. He leaned against me the whole way, and we got several black stares from couples walking along the street. I felt I was making a bigger change in my life than I knew by the time we reached my building. I was acting to become a fag, a fag by choice, because deep down I realized I wanted this boy in my life. The rest of the heterosexual world could go fuck itself. I realized I didn't care what others thought. I'd made my choice, so rapidly, my head was swimming.
Marek, the boy's name, I discovered, was happy to the point of tears. His passion floated right on the surface of his psyche. Within days, we had fitted ourselves together as one, and were working to improve his English, to get him enrolled in school. He sang with a beautiful voice, and danced to the music in my friend's collection. He loved all music, and it filled the loft first thing in the morning after he awoke, and he danced through breakfast, eating his toast and drinking his coffee in motion. I was head over heals in love with him, and it had happened so easily. The boy turned me on like I'd never been before. He made me know with every moment we were together that he was as deeply in love with me as I was with him.
I'd like to say we lived happily ever after, but it was not to be. His mother wrote that his father was dying, and was asking for him. He was torn, but I told him he had to go. We saw each other last at Kennedy Airport and he walked onto a plane bound for Warsaw.
He wrote half a dozen letters, in his better English, but then they stopped. His last to me said he had lost his father, and had to take over the family tailor shop to help support his mother in her old age. A sad end to our relationship, but I still treasure the fleeting two years I had with my Polish dancer. They were the best years of my life.
End