Best Gay Erotica 2006, page 6
I liked how his body was pudgy and not gym-toned to death, in contrast to an actual gay boy’s. I did frown at the spiked belt, which to me seemed to hint at the misfortune to come. We shot at the same time, spraying both the glory hole and Doseone’s tag.
But back to the bathroom at LoBot Gallery in West Oakland.
Doseone is wearing camouflage again, which I deplore above all things in the world; this time it’s a camouflage trucker cap. How can Dose have any antifascist critique in his work while unthinkingly choosing to adorn his person in the costume of the military? Here I could win an argument about the ineffectiveness of a liberal ideology. I look at Dose and feel so utterly self-conscious about my art. I remember doing the new listening stations at Amoeba that played Deep Puddle Dynamics and feeling every strained syllable of my D/DC delivery and body language on stage, how I would channel Dose’s inflections. Then I remember the past. Taking my ex-boyfriend to the Imusicast show. Sure, Jo-ey was cuter than Dose—because clearly Jo-ey’s lips were at that time a great deal more hydrated and healthy than Dose’s chain-smoker lips—but I think how an obsession with intention and technique had half-filled the time since I last had a boyfriend. Planning my alibi as the Black Doseone, the triple irony of a black person impersonating a white person impersonating a black person.
So we’re letting the silence pass in the bathroom and I’m witnessing the impression of Dose’s nipples rising up through his nonsweatshop Subtle T-shirt. It’s so hip-hop to wear a T-shirt with your band’s name on it that’s the same as the one you sell.
“I wanna suck your cock,” I finally say.
“You should come to the after party,” Dose says without a beat.
“Now.”
“No sex before the show.”
“What kind of a rock star are you?”
“I’m not a rock star. I’m a poet.”
“Rock star poet.”
“No sex before the show,” Doseone says again, and leaves the bathroom, just as someone enters.
I retreat to the handicapped stall. I think: Freedom penis dipping in a toilet of tears. It’s the hot white boy I saw on his cell phone in the street coming to LoBot. Where do these people come from? This one has sideburns. I’ve been especially enamored of sideburns lately. You know, I had a dream about this white boy before. In it he’s peeing and glances around to find me looking at him. He slips into the stall next to mine. I look under the stall wall at him and he starts jerking off. But I came before he got there, just from looking at him, so it’s too late, and then I wake up.
But this hot cell phone white boy has come into the bathroom to gaze into the mirror. Using the mirror takes her a long time. On the back of her baggy T-shirt is a picture of Bub Rubb going “Whooooo-whoooooo!” White boys love their Internet objectification of black people, don’t they? I find my cock tender and semihard as, for an improbable duration, this boy preens herself in the mirror, just for me. I masturbate, studying her from inside my stall while she anoints her insanely smooth and clear face. She has such good skin. “The no-place of an ache dangles body all around it,” Dose wrote. The sordid and masochistic suburban identification…a body in a mirror. “See me,” I think, as finally being seen feels as close as touching a streetlamp light bulb from a seat on the train poised on the aerial track over a neighborhood in West Oakland. He’ll see me in five seconds. I’m lost because all I can think is, “She’d come into the stall next to me in a split second if I was white.” Conqueror. The giving is dripping off every muscled hormonal gland and pore in my feverish, abject flesh. Or: “He’d kiss me if I was white.” I’m giving every part of my sweaty, mathematical lucubration, tightening around a pencil to go over some really pornographic diagnostics of what it is to want to slide into some skin with a couple of years knocked off mine, to feel whatever unthinkable thing is happening between self and image; to be taking careful stock of all the bone-structured angles that have never experienced worry, never drifted, never been alienated out of the confines of their own extravagant symmetry. Whiteboy: check! Hegemony: check! It’s there…yet remote, desirable. “It’s the boy in me that binds a worldly, gutted man’s angst to change. Celebratory delta paints shit-eating grins on what you and mirrors think my face looks like.” New clothes, she puts her camouflage trucker hat on, slightly off center. They must be giving them away tonight. I hate being black. I do. My cock, trembling hard, continues to drip, and my sense of history numbs. All I can see is locked suburban rooms in rows by the thousands, TV sets, a breathing semidark, and hard white cocks and faces flushed the same color. “Johnny Cock Rocket!” I recite. Skateboard, a doll-like face with impossibly blushed blood-colored lips and ocean-colored eyes…and what I do with my dick disappears into a racial Ventura rewrite, history is traded for a second of an orgasmic pang of oppressive escapism, hardening my resolve to unmake the world like a slap in the face. For exactly one instant it occurs to me that I know the precise and obvious words that would unmake the world. The moment fades. It takes me, like, two seconds to come.
SITE 1 : FROM THE SLUTS
Dennis Cooper
REVIEW #1
Escort’s name: Brad
Location: Long Beach
Age: 18?
Month and year of your date: June 2001
Where did you find him? Street
Internet address: no
Escort’s email address: none
Escort’s advertised phone number: not
advertised, but try 310-555-6112
Rates: I gave him $200
Did he live up to his physical description?
Did he live up to what he promised?
Height: 5’11”?
Weight: 150 lbs.?
Facial hair: no
Body hair: pubes only
Hair color: blond (dyed)
Eye color: hazel
Dick size: 6 inches?
Cut or uncut: cut
Thickness: couldn’t tell
Does he smoke? yes
Top, bottom, versatile: bottom
In calls/out calls/not sure: not sure
Kisser: yes
Has he been reviewed before? no
Rating: recommended (see review)
Hire again: no (see review)
Handle: bigman60
Submissions: this is my seventh review
URL for pics: no
Experience: There are usually a few street hustlers working the blocks around a local bar here in Long Beach called Pumper’s. That’s where they like to hang out and play pool between tricks. It’s a pretty sad scene, so I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw this beautiful, skinny kid with a backpack who told me his name was Brad. He didn’t look a day over fourteen, but his ID said 18 so I’ll let it stand at that.
I took him back to my place. He was very quiet and didn’t seem to want to talk. He wouldn’t give me a price or say what he was into. He also had a slight twitch where he’d crane his neck and open his mouth. I took that to be a drug reaction since he was obviously on something. There were warning signs everywhere but Brad was so hot that I just ignored them. I’m glad I did, but keep reading.
He asked if I had any alcohol. I thought he was high enough already, but he said he had to be “fucked up to do it.” So I gave him some whiskey and he proceeded to get quite drunk but not loud and obnoxious. If anything he got even quieter. He still wouldn’t talk money or specifics. He gave me the impression that whatever I wanted to do and pay him was fine. After about thirty minutes of steady drinking, I decided to make a move.
Here’s the thing. The sex was unbelievable. Brad will do anything as far I can tell, but he’s definitely a bottom. He never got hard, but he sure acted like he was into it. He has the hottest, sweetest little ass, especially if you like them a little used like I do. I must have eaten out his hole for an hour. I got four fingers inside him. I couldn’t fuck him hard and deep enough. I spanked him, and not softly either. I pinched and twisted the hell out of his nipples. Nothing fazed him. All the time his cute boy face looked at me with his mouth wide open and made these sounds like he was scared to death and turned on at the same time. I came twice, first in his mouth and then up his ass. I should say that I never practice unsafe sex, but I just couldn’t help it. I’m HIV–, however.
Here’s where the problems started. He didn’t want to stop. It’s like he couldn’t get himself out of whatever zone he was in. I was afraid he’d lost his mind. It was very spooky. I didn’t know what to do with him. I let him sleep over because he didn’t seem dangerous, but I fell asleep to the sound of him whimpering and thrashing around. I left $200 for him on the dresser, and when I woke up, he and the money were gone. There was a note from him with his phone number on it saying to please call him or tell my friends about him. Overall, it was great, but once is enough for me.
You: I’m a middle-aged, overweight top into teenaged street trade, the cuter and skinnier the better.
REVIEW #2 Escort’s name: Brad
Location: Long Beach
Age: 18 (LOL)
Month and year of your date: June 2001
Where did you find him? on this site
Escort’s advertised phone number: 310-555-6112
Rates: whatever you want to pay him. I gave him $150
Did he live up to his physical description: yes!
Did he live up to what he promised: fuck, yes
Height: 5’9”?
Weight: 145 lbs?
Facial hair: no
Body hair: no
Hair color: blond
Eye color: green
Dick size: don’t care
Cut or uncut: don’t care
Thickness: don’t care
Does he smoke? yes
Top, bottom, versatile: bottom
In calls/out calls/not sure: out
Kisser? don’t care
Rating: what do you think?
Hire again? fuck, yes
Handle: llbean
Submissions: this is my first review
Experience: The earlier review of Brad seemed too good to be true, but I called him anyway. It turned out to be the phone number of a homeless shelter in Long Beach. I left a message for Brad not expecting to hear back, but he called me a few hours later. He sounded unfriendly and bored on the phone, but I told him what I was into and he said that was fine. I offered to call him a taxi, but he said he wanted to walk. It must have been a good ten-mile walk to my house from that location, so I figured right then that he was a little strange. He arrived maybe two and a half hours later. I opened the door and couldn’t believe my eyes. He seriously looks about fourteen, and they don’t get any cuter.
Brad looked and smelled like he hadn’t showered for a while, but from the earlier review I’d expected as much. I personally like my boys a little lived in. I met him at the door with a bottle of Jack Daniels, and he just took off the cap, and chugged about half of it down while I stripped him. He has a very tight, adolescent looking body with long, skinny arms and legs, and the smallest ass and about twelve pubic hairs. The earlier review stated Brad was spooky, and he has some mental problems for sure, but I’m not into being some kid’s father, so I could care less.
I don’t have the space to go into everything we did, so I’ll cut to the chase. Brad let me handcuff him to my bed and I went to work on his ass. I gave him a good finger stretching then started burying bigger and bigger dildos in his ass. I got a fat, two-foot-long dildo all the way inside and he let me churn and pound that ass like I was making butter. The whole time, he screamed like he was dying, but his dick was always rock hard. When I finally got around to fisting him, his hole was so hot that I came within a minute, then sucked the sweetest, biggest load of come out of him that I’ve ever tasted.
It was clear that he could have gone on all night if I’d wanted. I did have to order him to leave, and he was very out of it and acting pretty strange. But let me tell you, he’s worth it. I’ll be hiring him again for sure.
You: Leather daddy type, mid-50s, into restraints and heavy anal sex with young-looking bottoms.
REVIEW #3
Escort’s name: Brad
Location: Long Beach
Age: 18?
Month and year of date: July 2001
Where did you find him: on this site
Rates: not applicable
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 130 lbs.
Facial hair: no
Body hair: no
Hair color: brown
Eye color: blue
Dick size: don’t know
Cut or uncut: don’t know
Thickness: don’t know
Does he smoke? yes
Top, bottom, versatile? don’t know
Rating: not applicable
Hire again: not applicable
Handle: JoseR72
Submissions: This is my seventeenth review
Experience: Call me a caretaker if you want, but after reading Brad’s reviews, I couldn’t help but feel concerned about this troubled young man, and angered by the callousness with which the previous reviewers have treated him. I work in the mental heath industry in Orange County, not far from Long Beach. I made an appointment with Brad in order to encourage him to seek treatment, although he didn’t know my intentions until we met.
Regular visitors to this site know that I’m not against hiring escorts. I will even admit that Brad is my type and that meeting him involved a high degree of self-control on my part. Something the previous reviewers are right about is that he’s extraordinarily cute. Brad is one of the cutest twinks I’ve ever seen, in fact. I don’t know how a boy as cute and young as Brad ended up in the low end of his profession, but it’s wrong to exploit him. He deserves better.
I had a long talk with Brad. It took him a while to open up to me, but he did. My knee-jerk diagnosis is that Brad is probably schizophrenic with an untreated chemical imbalance. He might also be suffering from a mild neurological disorder, as evidenced by the physical tics that the first reviewer mentioned. He allowed me to drive him to the facility where I work and enroll him in an outpatient program. I set him up to live at the home of a female acquaintance of mine. He is no longer at the phone number posted here and with any luck, you have heard the last of him. Shame on you.
You: Hispanic male in my late 30s.
Brad responds: Don’t believe this guy. He’s a prick. I have a new number. It’s 310-555-9876. Call me if you’re a generous man. I’m up for anything. I need a place to live too. This guy’s a fucking prick. I don’t need help. He’s a liar. I’m writing this on his computer. What does that tell you? Guys like him are the worst. They promise you shit and they don’t mean it. Don’t call me if you’re like him.
Webmaster’s message: My repeated attempts to contact JoseR72 and have him confirm this review have been unsuccessful. Until further notice, I strongly advise all of you to stay clear of Brad.
REVIEW #4 Escort’s name: Brad
Location: Los Angeles
Age: 18
Month and year of your date: July 2001
Where did you find him: this site
Escort’s advertised phone number: pager 310-555-9876
Rates: $500 overnight
Did he live up to his physical description: yes
Did he live up to what he promised: no
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 130 lbs
Facial hair: no
Body hair: pubes
Hair color: dirty blond
Eye color: hazel
Dick size: 6 inches
Cut or uncut: cut
Thickness: less than medium
Does he smoke? not with me
Top, bottom, versatile? total bottom
In calls/out calls/not sure: out with me
Kisser: yes
Rating: not recommended
Hire again: no
Handle: bizeeb7
Experience: I read the warning on Brad, but I was in the L.A. area on business and decided to take a chance. I called the number expecting a pager but Brad answered. Despite what has been said about him, he was quite talkative, too talkative if anything. I suspected he was on drugs at the time, but in retrospect I think he was in the manic phase of whatever mental illness he is suffering from. I offered to pay for his taxi ride to my hotel near the LAX airport, and he said he wasn’t far away and would leave immediately. I waited for him in front of the hotel for more than two hours, then gave up and went to sleep after trying to reach him by phone with no luck.
At about 3:30 in the morning I was woken up by a call from the lobby saying a young man was here to see me. I asked the concierge if there was a taxi waiting, and he told me there was. I asked him to pay the driver and charge it to my bill and send the young man up to my room. Big mistake. When I let Brad in, he was a very agitated state. He wanted alcohol but I told him there was none in the room, and that room service was closed. He seemed extremely upset by this and sat on the bed and began crying. I was half-asleep, naked, frightened, and wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. I suggested that we go try to find an open liquor store, but he said no. I offered to call him a taxi and even pay him the full, agreed upon amount if he wanted to leave, but that just made him even more upset. He started saying, “Don’t you like me,” and things like that, which I have to admit I found rather heartbreaking.
I didn’t know what to do, but I told Brad that he could go ahead and get undressed and that we’d give sex a shot. I really wasn’t in the mood, but I thought he might be carrying a knife or something, so it was more of a safety precaution at that point. When I said that, he calmed right down, and took his clothes off, and even made a few jokes about how crazy he’d been acting. Like the other reviewers said, Brad is an extremely cute boy. Without his clothes on, he took my breath away. If it weren’t for his height, I’d guess from his body he was no older than thirteen or fourteen. He has a slim, slight build with tiny nipples and the most precious little ass. It was just too arousing, and I decided that I had to indulge myself a little.
