MANAGING MANHATTAN MASSAGES
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From my memoir:
by Endoman
I grew up in Jackson Heights on the #7 line of the IRT. It would deliver me to a great education and later to many encounters with gay guys giving massages. I took it to high school, college, and professional school. Later to a few young guys who I made friends, and to many one hour stands. some were decent; some a waste, and a few memorable.
Two of my favorite venues, now long gone, were the Adonis Theater and the Gaiety Theater. Mayor Giuliani wrought havoc to the 42nd street district, and to those theaters. I had my first public BJ at the Adonis. As I walked in I was stopped by a kid who offered a BJ for $10 and repeats for free if you wanted it. I took him on it and the option as I was leaving. It was all accomplished in the lobby before you paid the entrance fee, in broad daylight.
Inside the theater I sat for the performance. After each guy did his strip he entered the audience for a lap dance. One guy came through. I fondled his ball for a fiver. He had only one. That attracted my attention. After activity I was about to leave when the guy in front of my seat started panicking. Someone stole his pants, basically leaving him naked. He was hysterical. On my way out, neatly spread on the floor were his pants. I returned to my seat and told him to go and get them.
I saw one guy on stage, and later for a bj. On a different occasion. I also saw him at our community recreation facility. I did not approach him; he would not recognize me.
The Gaiety was another theater. When I first started going you could get a HJ in the theater, but not a BJ. I forget the cost. Then the crackdown came. The guys needed money and also had to have a hotel residence to be available for performances. Hotel rooms are great for sex. You circulated amongst the performers and arranged with them for a private showing. One guy I followed back to his hotel was on the bed sucking his thumb when I arrived at his room. I assured him I would not hurt him and that we would only play nice games. BJ's were in order. I may have gotten my money's worth.
On another afternoon at the Gaiety I connected with a handsome young man and went with him to his room in a rooming `house'. The queen bed covered all the floor space and I had to get up onto it to enter the room. Horizontal activity, slow motion grinding, entwining limbs, and schtupping. We both enjoyed the encounter. I managed to get dressed and adjusted myself after I left the room. I left his money on the blanket. Handsome came out naked running after me requesting his pay. I returned and we found it amongst his bed linens. He was not a performer when I next went to that theater. His apartment had other very noisy occupants.
I found a guy in Washington Heights. I left the subway and followed directions to his very nice apartment. Nice furniture and lovely pictures. It was his grandmother's and he got to occupy it full time. We kissed to start after the obligatory hug. He sat and chatted with me in the living room, stripped me there and then we proceeded to the big bed. I got a decent massage and then we had sex, loving slow sex. Equal partners in joyful activity. Over the course of the next few months I saw him on a regular basis. It was during the day and it had to stop as g'ma was returning. My loss.
Another happy encounter was in the Times Square district. One of the few remaining old houses had a handsome American student who was in need of cash. I supplied the cash, as did others, and he supplied a very willing and friendly body. We met for massages and sex over the course of a few months. He was fascinated by the way I put my underwear on; he had developed the same maneuvers. I went from his place to have dinner with my spouse so I always showered. In fact it was necessary for me to shower after all my encounters. I had to be free of oil and sweet smelling.
Nearby on Ninth Ave I found and entered a disturbing situation. I answered an ad. When I arrived it was the wrong building. I called and was given the correct address, around the corner. The apartment was hung with blankets on cords,, creating separate enclosures. I should have been suspicious. My host was a brute of a guy, not the twink I wanted. Had me strip, he did too. After I got onto the bed he sat on my chest, fed his cock into my mouth after he told me to open up. He proceeded to face fuck me and shot wads into my mouth. He got up which allowed me to get up and run to the kitchen to clean out my mouth. He informed me that we were done and put out his hand. He got his $50 bucks (it was decades ago). I had heard other voices in the apartment and had no wish to get beaten up.
A better engagement was with an oriental guy who lived in a basement apartment east of 8th Ave. He was pleasant, indulging and cooperative. He actually initiated most of the moves, gently and without drama. I tried to be a regular for massage and fucking him. After a few months of frequent visiting he told me he lost his lease and would probably be moving away. We cuddled and he cried. As a dedicated bottom he was used to being submissive and as an oriental that was his attitude throughout. We did not stay in contact and I could not give him lodgings as we had 6 bedrooms , all occupied. . Another guy in Washington Hts. was about my son's age. Tall and handsome and just the type I loved. He had a big hallway and that was set up with thick pads so that we had lots of room, but not in a room. The massage was excellent and he liked to bottom, occasionally to top. We did well together for quite a few visits. I had to call it quits as it was a very long walk for me.
Then there was the strapping black guy whom I latched onto. First in his apartment and then when he rented `office space' in an office building. Again it was basically on the floor. He paid rent by the hour and I had to bring bills in a certain combination as it had to be left in a special box, exact as to the amount. The massage had been good and remained as good, But the final fuck, me receiving, was supposed to be an extra charge. I got it free on the last visit, but that was the last visit!
I had another black entertainer, a cross dresser who sang in costume. Actually he lived in Astoria when I first met him. I followed him to Manhattan but it was too difficult so we had to part as I could not park. I used to take him on his errands, gave him clothes, and watched him do nude modeling with them. Lovely guy whose straight apartment-mate threw him out because my guy was too gay. He looked like the straightest arrow in all my finds.
I had decades to go into Manhattan until my spouse retired about 5 years ago. Towards the end we went to theater less frequently so there were only 2 or 3 trysts a month. Many of them were not memorable. One involved an unemployed guy who knew nothing about massage and less about gayness.
Another troublesome encounter was on the east side of Manhattan. It was an active business with 2 guys in one location and only one bed. I got there a little early and was told to wait outside until the apartment cleared. I actually waited, but it was not worth the wait.
A better time was had in the West Village. i arrived early and rang. I was welcomed as a long lost friend. We chatted, had wine (his) and after a while of making out on the sofa he converted it to a bed, a comfortable one at that. Since he kept the apartment warm we did not use covers. We did the dance `afternoon of a fawn'. We repeated that scenario for a visit a month for a while. As usual I looked around as I did on alternate weeks. He did not want to use the master BR.
I actually found three keepers. I reviewed them in other essays. There was J with whom I still correspond, we spent more that 2 years seeing each other. Then there was Tony who had run away from home at about the age of 15, but who I did not meet until he was into his 20's. He called me at the office one day and told me he was leaving and that I was not to look for him or call his house. The latter was so that I did not aggravate his savior who was usually around the apartment when there were visitors. I do miss Tony and J.
The third is a Chinese guy from Flushing who was my companion (more than a boytoy) for a few years. We had superstorm Sandy, I ended up in the hospital, and our house was without electricity for over 10 days. He has refused my calls, did not answer letters and otherwise made me understand some things about a divorce.