Thursday, July 12, 2007

ABC's of Janky Sex A-D

ABC's of Jankey Sex part I A-D

In the name of Sex Blog Thursday, I am going to go all out and reveal a personal sex tidbit...some rather apprehensively...for each letter of the alphabet. This week...part 1. A-D.

A is for Amsterdam Adventure: In March of 1997, at the age of 21, I spent 3 eye opening weeks in of the best places to have your eyes opened...Amsterdam, Netherlands. One destination on my itinerary that I will never forget even though I didn't take a single picture was Thermos Days (the daytime opposed to Thermos Nights which I managed to check out as well.)

This place was so unlike American bathhouses that the only thing they had in common was gay sex. 99% of you reading this probably never have and never will set foot in a bathhouse and at least 50% of you might not even know what one is. Basically its a building where gay and bi men can rent lockers or rooms, cruise the halls in just a towel and have sex. Many American establishments are sleazy "down low" type places where men hardly ever speak to each other and do most of their communicating with eye contact and body language. There is usually a porn room, a sauna, a dark maze(scary) with some being much nicer than others. Like everything there are exceptions, but for the most part these are not social places. In America that is. This joint in Amsterdam was like our rich, out of the closet second cousin, twice removed. It had a full bar where naked men socialized and bought each other drinks (you were given a number to clip on your towel to keep a tab). There was also a swimming pool on the first floor, along with the standard porn rooms and sauna's. The numerous floors above had small walk in closet size rooms that were padded with the kind of floor mats gymnasts use and that you could duck into with anybody you liked to do anything you liked. There were also private rooms if you wanted to pay for them. Oh, and did I mention the gym, hair stylist, tanning salon and restaurant that were also available. And to make the place complete there were incredibly hot men of all types representing countries from all over the world. I met with a representative from quite a few European countries as well as Brazil on that unforgettable day of culture shock.

B is for Bathhouse boy: Another bathhouse story, you sigh. Whore! you whisper under your breath. For your information this time I was doing volunteer work and not sex work. When I first moved to Portland shortly after the story from the previous letter, I volunteered at a group called Cascade Aids project, mostly as a way to meet other socially conscience guys in the area. I ended up helping with a new project called the Bathhouse Outreach. The purpose was to have a place set up in the bathhouse to offer free HIV and std testing, give out condoms, promote the female condom(which was new at the time) for gay men's use, and a few other goals. At this time I was 22 and kinda cute and I was made a "social boy". While other volunteers were doing important things it was my "job" to walk around in my underwear telling guys about the CAP(cascade aids project) room on the 3rd floor. I was bait. If a guy gave me some attention I was supposed to start off flirting long enough to try and lead them back to my trap where they could be tagged, tested and sent off with condoms, condoms condoms!! It would be an understatement to say this was frightening. I was shy, unsure of myself and afraid to talk to these naked guys, the most forward of whom were also the ones that the derogatory label of Troll was referring to. These guys did not want to hear about anonymous testing as much as they wanted to grab my ass and steer me towards their dark caves of depravity. I lasted two Thursdays as a "Social Boy" before I had to hang up my towel.

C is for Cheap Whore: Why am I telling you this? Hopefully I will come to my senses and delete, so with that in mind here is the time I first got offered money for sex. It was the same time period as the previous stories and I was just getting over my fear of other gay men (I was afraid they were all mean bitchy queens who would chew me up and spit me out) and started going to the bars. Of course I had to get pretty buzzed to even go in the bar, and once I go my fresh meat naive little ass inside it wasn't long before some twink loving guy got me drunk. I was thinking I was for once in my life popular, when really (like the t-shirt says) I was just a slut. (Actually I was an insecure young newbie, but it's all the same in the end). There was a nice guy who bought me drinks who said he was in his thirties, but more likely was in his 40's. I went home with him one time that I don't really remember one of my first nights out. The second time we met I got loaded and he took me back to his place again. After fooling around a bit he asked if he could fuck me. I rarely like getting fucked so that usually doesn't happen, so I said no. Now if he asked me again and was persistent I probably would have just said yes. He didn't want to waste anytime so instead he offered me $100! I was broke like a joke at the time, drunk off my ass and kinda flattered. I obviously had no idea how much 22yo ass (I looked maybe 18) was going for, so instead of negotiating higher I kinda slurred the word OK. I was drunk and he had a pretty small cock anyway, so there wasn't much pain, plus he lasted about 2 minutes and it was over before I knew it. In the morning he gave me my money and threw in a telephone because I was getting my phone turned on that day. I was so excited, and shameless, that I went home and called all my friends back home on my ill gotten phone to tell them just how much my ass was worth. There wasn't a lot of judgment on anyone's part, but nobody else seemed to see it as the monumental achievement that I did either.

D is for Disneyland Porn Fiasco. Back up a few years to the summer after 9th grade and I was off to Disneyland with my friend Maloney and her family.

Her dad was an oldish guy always joking, unless his temper was flaring. Her mom was younger than him and from the Phillipines. Also along on the trip was her sister Frankie, who was in the 4th grade. The trip down was uneventful until we got to her uncles house where we were going to stay the night. This guy was a PERVERT with a capitol P.

Every nook and cranny in this place was filled with porno movies and magazines. Kinkier still, most of them were from the lovely niche of incest porn. The tagline on one of the mags was "The family that plays together stays together." They were overflowing from the clothes hamper, the drawers, the magizine racks. They may have even been used as wallpaper. They were mostly stright, but I managed to find one story about two twin brothers who get freaky together (and with their sister, but I skipped that part). This was the first gay porn I had ever read and it stayed with me. To this day I have an unfulfilled twin fantasy. That night, while everyone else was asleep I decided to take a risk and put on a porn. The only place I could watch it was the living room, and Malaney's dad was asleep in the chair next to the TV, but it was a calculated risk. I managed to get one going but couldn't find anything gay. hmmm...I kept looking. The next thing I knew I was asleep. Nobody said anything the next day so I figured I was in the clear. We went to Disneyland that morning and I was in heaven. Finally I was in the Magic Kingdom! Eventually Malaney's bossiness got on my nerves and we started to argue. Quicker than you can say "GangBang Family Reunion 5" her Dad pulled us out of Disney land and out to the parking lot...I believe it was the H for Happy Dwarf section. Thats when he busted out the accusation that one of us was watching porn last night! He woke up and saw it! Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. We were in trouble. I ended up claiming that I had fallen asleep watching a "Dobie Gillis" Marathon on Nick at Night and must have fallen asleep on the remote which turned on the porn which was probably already in the VCR, since there was porn everywhere else.

I don't know if he bought it but he let us go back inside the Magic Kingdom. As a follow up, one of the magazines that I smuggled out of the PERVERT's home was found in the back of the van when we got back to Oregon and nobody would believe me or Malaney's claim that her little sister must have done it. We even had proof because we saw her with it before we left. I still wasn't allowed over at their house for a whole year.

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