Sunday, August 20, 2017
Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star didn't like telling celebrity dating or hookup stories: "Does being on tv automatically make guys hotter? Does it give them a bigger cock? What's the point?"
But when he set his mind to it, he had some good stories: he dated David Johnson, son of the professor on Gilligan's Island; two of the cast members of M*A*S*H (not Alan Alda); and Land of the Lost star Wesley Eure.
West Hollywood, June 1979
In May 1978, three days after graduating from ultra-fundamentalist Waynesburg College in rural Pennsylvania, Alan arrived in the gay ghetto of West Hollywood. It was the halcyon days of sexual excess, after Gay Liberation but before AIDS, when there were enough bars and bathhouses in town to fill every night with dates and tricks. And he dated and tricked with the best of them.
In the spring of 1979, he met Donnie, a production manager/stage manager/general factotum at CBS. They had sex once, then became friends, as was the custom in those day. He told Alan about his gay sex party with Sid Krofft and Jack Wild, star of the Saturday-morning kidvid show H.R. Pufnstuf.
"I always thought those boys on the Krofft shows were gay. Butch Patrick on Lidsville...Johnny Whitaker on Sigmund and the Sea Monsters...."
"Well, there was some casting couch stuff going on with Sid, but those guys were mostly straight. Other than Jack Wild, the only one I know for sure is gay is Wesley Eure."
The last of the Krofft Shows, Land of the Lost (1974-1976), was the most ambitious. A whole family -- father, son, and daughter -- trapped in a prehistoric world with dinosaurs, evil reptilian Sleestaks, and helpful humanoid Pakuni.. They hire Star Trek alumni as writers, and a UCLA linguist to invent the Pakuni language. And instead of their usual fey prettyboys, they got a real rugged outdoorsman to play the son.
A little old for a Krofft boy, age 23 when the show began, Wesley Eure was tall and buffed, with black curly hair and a dazzling teen-idol smile. He was a talented singer, selected to replace David Cassidy on The Partridge Family, and a classically-trained dramatic actor who had performed Shakespeare and Eugene O'Neill. Yet he didn't balk at being chased by dinosaurs every week.
"How do you know he's gay?" Alan asked. "Have you tricked with him?"
Donnie laughed. "Not tricked, no -- we dated. Candy, flowers, a soda with two straws, a kiss on the doorstep, the whole romantic bit. But he dumped me after the third date."
"Things getting too real for him?"
"I was getting too out for him. He's strictly closeted."
"Closeted, in 1979? That's ridiculous!" Alan exclaimed. "Being gay is legal now. Willie Brown is on our side. There are gay characters on tv all the time. What's he got to be afraid of? Give me this guy's number, and I'll pull him out of the closet."
"What makes you think you're his type?"
Alan grinned. "Have you seen my cock lately? I'm everybody's type."
So Donnie called Wesley and arranged for him to met Alan for dinner at the Formosa Cafe near Plummer Park.
Wesley was 27 years old, but too big and buffed to be a twink. Since Land of the Lost ended, he had done some soaps and guest spots, and he was very excited about the movie C.H.O.M.P.s, a superhero spoof about a boy who invents a robot dog.
"It could become a tv series!" Wesley exclaimed. "And I'd get to kiss Valerie Bertinelli every week -- nothing wrong with that, right?"
"Sorry -- it's my cover. I'm so used to pretending to be straight..."
"Well, tonight you're gay through and through. I've got a whole tour of Hollywood planned: the Bunkhouse, the Rawhide, Circus Disco -- then, if you're up for it, the baths."
"I can't go to gay bars, or the baths. What if someone recognizes me?"
Alan sighed and allowed himself to be invited home. The sex was hot. Wesley had a hard smooth chest, a tight belly, and a beautifully shaped 6-inch penis. They kissed and fondled for a long time, almost to climax, and then Wesley went down on Alan -- he could take it all without gagging. After he finished, he moved into the 69 position for the second round, and then interfemoral.
Later, as they were cuddling in bed, Alan said, "So, dating you will involve just going out to dinner and talking about Valerie Bertinelli? No dancing, no movies, no cruising?"
"I can't be seen in any gay places," Wesley said. "Not if I want a career. If this is going to go any farther, you'll have to be cool with that." He began kissing Alan's chest, and slowly moved down to his belly and crotch. "I can make quiet nights at home worthwhile."
"Sounds cool," Alan said. "But for our next dinner, I get to pick the place." He moaned as Wesley began going down on him for the third time that evening.
Two days later, Alan picked up Wesley at his apartment. "We're meeting some of my friends -- I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," Wesley said. It was traditional to introduce your boyfriend to your friends on the second or third date. "Gay or straight?"
Alan glared at him. "What do you think?"
They drove to a large, open restaurant near Santa Monica and Fairfax, down the street from Temple Beth El. "I figured a Jewish neighborhood would be closeted enough for you."
Donnie and two other guys were sitting at the table waiting for them.
"Shouldn't there be some girls with us, just in case?" Wesley said doubtfully.
Alan shoved him to the table and made the introductions: Morris Kight, president of the Stonewall Democratic Alliance, and Troy Perry, founder of the Metropolitan Community Church!
All Wesley had heard of were bars and bathhouses -- he was astonished to discover that there were social clubs, political clubs, churches, magazines, newspapers, even a bookstore that specialized in gay literature.
While they were talking, a cute twink came over to ask for Wesley's autograph. "You helped me come out!" he exclaimed. "Watching you on Land of the Lost in those cut-off jeans made me realize that I was gay."
After he left, Wesley turned to Alan. "He was awfully open about being gay. Is this a gay restaurant?"
Alan grinned. "You got me. This is the French Quarter, the nicest restaurant in the gay ghetto."
"Gay ghetto -- I thought this was a Jewish neighborhood."
"We share," Troy said. "There's plenty of room for everyone in West Hollywood."
Alan reached over and grabbed his hand under the table, then slowly raised it up to the tabletop, so that they were holding hands obviously, in public. The other guys ignored them.
"After dinner we can go back to my apartment," Alan said, "Or we can go to the Circus Disco. I'll have to warn you, though, there won't be any girls there."
"Well, maybe a few drag queens," Donnie said.
Wesley thought for a moment, but only for a moment. "The disco."
Alan and Wesley dated for another month or so before breaking up. When gay rumors caused him to be fired from Days of Our Lives in 1981, Wesley returned to the closet, and did not come out publicly until 2009.
See: Donnie's Gay Sex Party with Jack Wild; Alan's Top 20 Tricks, Scenes, and Dates
Saturday, August 19, 2017
But I've been defining a sexual experience as contact between one partner's penis and the other partner's mouth or butt, to orgasm (that's the one) or not (that's the half).
What if I include sausage fondlings, gropes, and grabs? I had at least 12 of those before my 18th birthday.
Grab: You just feel around for it.
Grope: You manipulate it through his pants.
Fondle: You take it out of his pants.
(All models are over 18)
Mark. December of fifth grade, my wild night: a cute boy named Mark talks me into crossing forbidden 18th Avenue and then going back to his house, without telling my parents where I am. Before I know it, it's dark out, and I'm in big trouble. But I do get to fondle his wiener.
Javon. In April of fifth grade, I visit my Indian cousins, and we play a game involving tying up my older cousin Javon and "torturing" him for information. I unzip and fondle his sausage before he is "rescued."
"Only fools wear pajamas." And grab each other.
Marty. At Nazarene camp the summer after sixth grade, Marty shows me how to "hit a home run" with a girl, and pushes my hand against his pants. I get a major grope of his baseball bat.
The Corpse Boy. My friend Craig's older brother works in a funeral home, so of course we importune him for a tour. One day he agrees, but cautions us that corpses are called "stiffs" because they're always aroused. I was pretty sure we were being pranked before I fondled the corpse boy. But not entirely sure.
Cousin Buster. One night I burst unexpectedly into Cousin Buster's room and caught him in the act. He invited me in, but I refused. Ok, that one doesn't really count.
Cousin Phil. At Thanksgiving in 9th grade, my brother and I spent the night with Cousin Phil. I got a sausage sighting, and briefly fondled his penis while he was asleep. Does that count?
David. The summer after ninth grade, two twelfth grade best buddies named Terry and David teach me about oral sex in the church parking lot. The lesson includes incidental groping.
Aaron. I build a private place in the attic of our new house for the purpose of sexual exploration, and soon start inviting other guys there. My conditions are: no girl magazines visible -- hide the covers -- and I get to watch. Tom, Aaron, Craig, and Marty (not the same Marty as in #4) do it in my room at different times, and once Aaron invites me to help him out. He seems embarrassed by the incident, and doesn't come up to my room again.
Todd. I fondle Todd before going down on him that night at music camp during the summer after my sophomore year. He doesn't want to do it again later.
Verne. We date all through the spring of my junior year, breaking up only when he gets a girl pregnant and has to marry her. Sometimes we fondle each other while "thinking about girls."
Tyrone. In the school parking lot after the Harvest Dance, Tyrone takes it out and lets me work on it for a few minutes.
a guy-only party with Dino, and we play naked Slip N Slide. There's some "accidental" groping in the mass of naked bodies.
I've lost contact with 3 of the boys, 3 are gay, and 7 are straight (or at least they married women and had children). Does that mean that both gay and straight men spend their childhoods fondling each other?
See also: My Sausage List and My Sausage Sighting List.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
When I was growing up in Rock Island in the 1960s and 1970s, there were no Chinese restaurants in town. I knew only a little about Chinese food:
1. On a 1967 episode of The Andy Griffith Show where Andy and his sidekick Barney go to a Chinese restaurant. Andy orders a steak, a baked potato, and green beans, but Barney is so stupid that he actually orders from the menu, and receives platesful of disgusting horrors.
2. My mother's cookbook, Meals with a Foreign Flair, offered a Chinese meal: chow mein, cucumber salad, asparagus, and fortune cookies.
3. Chinese food was cooked and served by Chinese men. I had never met anyone of Chinese ancestry before, except for the mysterious boy that Bill and I played with a long time ago.
I hadn't even seen many guys of Chinese ancestry! But doubtless they were amazingly attractive.
With tree-trunk penises!
When I was in eighth grade at Washington Junior High, a Chinese restaurant, the Mandarin Kitchen, opened in the Quad Cities.
I was anxious to go, but it was across the river in Davenport, Iowa. I wasn't allowed to cross the river by myself. Besides, no buses went over, and it was too far to walk.
My parents wouldn't take me:
"It's too expensive," Dad said.
"And you wouldn't like it," Mom added. "I had Chinese food once, in Long Beach. It was awful! What's wrong with Harris Pizza?"
Then I thought of my birthday excursion!
My birthday is in November, when everything fun is closed, so every May I got a "birthday trip": I could invite two or three friends to go anywhere I wanted in the Quad Cities. We went to Mother Goose Land (it's not as lame as it sounds), the Niabi Zoo, the Putnam Museum, the "Little Bit O' Heaven" at Palmer College. Why not go out to lunch at the Mandarin Kitchen?
I invited Dan and Darry, my boyfriend and my best friend, plus my brother by default and Peter, the only Asian guy at Washington Junior High. He was of Japanese ancestry, not Chinese, but I thought he might give us an air of authenticity, so we wouldn't look like tourists.
On a Saturday in May, shortly before the streaking incident, Dad drove us across the Centennial Bridge and into Davenport. We turned down River Drive and drove through a rather seedy neighborhood, past shabby office buildings, taverns, tattoo parlors, and the Col Ballroom where sinners went dancing, until finally we reached the Mandarin Kitchen.
It was next to a dirty bookstore!
There was a neon cocktail-glass in the window. They served booze! Nazarenes weren't allowed to go into places that had alcohol.
"Do you want to go to Harris Pizza instead?" Dad asked.
I screwed up my courage. "No, this will be fine."
"Ok. I'll be back in an hour." He handed me $20 to pay, deposited us on the curb, and drove away.
I took a deep breath and led Darry, Dan, and Peter through the glass door.
It was dark inside after the bright light of a May afternoon. Red sashes everywhere. Waving ceramic cats. Rows of small tables. And a lady holding menus!
She led us to a table, where another lady brought us tea.
It was only ladies in the whole restaurant!
When she came back to take our orders, I asked "Are there any men working here?"
Sighing with disappointment, I ordered almond chicken, fried rice, and potstickers.
It was good -- but I didn't come all the way to Davenport and use up my birthday trip to look at Chinese ladies!
I was going to the kitchen!
I got up, walked down a hall marked "bathroom," and saw a beige door marked "employees only."
A silvery space with a lot of black and silver pots. Hot, steamy. Two Chinese men.
My heart sank. Neither was very attractive.
A short, dumpy guy with glasses was bent over a sizzling pot. A tall, gawky, rather geeky-looking guy was chopping vegetables.
"You want apply for job?" he asked.
"No...um...." Thinking fast, I said "The bathroom is out of toilet paper."
"Whats the matter?" the short guy said. "You don't like Chinese food, gives you the runs?"
They both laughed.
The tall guy said "Ok, I show you toilet paper, but keep out of kitchen! State law!"
He put his arm around my shoulders and ushered me to the door. I felt the heat from his arm and chest, smelled the onion from his hands. Cute or not, the proximity of his body was exciting.
He led me to a supply closet, grabbed a roll of toilet paper from a shelf, and then pushed me into the bathroom.
It had a toilet and a urinal. There was a roll of toilet paper sitting on the tank.
The tall guy picked it up, grinning at me. "You didn't see?"
"I guess not," I said, even more embarrassed.
He shrugged and sat the rolls down on the urinal. "While I'm here, I go too. You mind?"
"Um...no." Suddenly I was interested -- maybe I could get a sausage sighting!
Slowly I dropped my pants and sat on the toilet. The tall guy unzipped -- but he was facing away from me.
"Hey, I still need the toilet paper!" I said.
He laughed. "I'm silly. Here..." He turned around. I saw his cock -- not tree-trunk sized, but a good four inches soft, uncut.
"That's ok, I get it." He walked over, got the toilet paper, handed it too me, and returned to the urinal -- his cock hanging down the whole time! I sat there in awe until he finished and washed his hands.
"You shy, huh? Well, I lock door on the way out."
The moment he left, I stood, washed my hands, and walked out into th main room again.
'What were you doing back there all that time?" Dan asked.
"Applying for a job," I said with a goofy smile on my face.
See also: The Hookup at the Sleepover.