Old Westbury, New York, October 1999
It's raining hard outside, so Ravi's Bear Party in Old Westbury had rather a low turnout to begin with, and now there are only five of us left:
Ravi and his partner Ken
Yuri and me, waiting for the rain to lighten up a bit.
Ozzie, a NYU undergrad whose ride left, so he's stuck. He'll probably be staying overnight.
We're sitting in the living room, finishing the last of the snacks and swapping stories about the biggest guys we've ever been with, dates from hell, and celebrity hookups.
I tell about my date with Michael J. Fox
Ravi tells about his hookup with Elton John.
Ken tells about his date with Barry Manilow.
Then Ozzie says "Have you ever heard of John F. Kennedy, Junior?"
The jetsetting son of President John Kennedy, lawyer, journalist, athlete, a fixture of New York high society? Of course! He was rumored to be gay or bisexual throughout his life, but we haven't heard about anyone who actually dated him.
"I helped him come out," Ozzie says.
"But..he never actually came out," Ravi protests. "He was married to the end of his life."
"To the end of his life, yes."
Eastside Club, New York, Summer 1999
Ozzie was 19 years old, a biochemistry major from Morocco, newly out, enormously attractive and enormously well-hung. He had a fake id, and he was living in the city with the largest concentration of gay men in the world. Where could he go to meet some? As many as possible?
He wanted to go to the bars, but his friend Jeremy suggested a bath house. No blaring music, no drunks, you could see the guys naked without bringing them home, and you could get with them instantly.
New York had only two bathhouses. The closest was the East Side Club on 56th, a very perfunctory affairs with showers, a small sauna, a video room with bleachers, and rows of small cubicles.
They went on a Friday in July. It was stormy, with black clouds and thunder.
"So, like tonight?" Yuri asks. "Is this a Halloween story?"
Ozzie smiles.
The club wasn't very busy: a scattering of old guys, a few hustlers, and two scared, newly-out teenagers with fake ids.
Jeremy wandered off, and Ozzie checked out the video room, with old porn movies playing. There was only one guy there: completely out of place, neither old guy nor hustler. In his 30s, very attractive, with thick brown hair, an oval face, a moderately hairy, muscular frame, and a Bratwurst beneath the belt. He was dripping wet, like he had just gotten out of the shower, but he wasn't wearing a towel, like most guys in bath houses.
Ozzie didn't know a lot about cruising, but he figured he could play up the Middle Eastern angle. He sat next to him and said "Hi, I'm Ozzie, from Morocco, but now I am at NYU."
Ozzie thinks that the guy murmured the name "John."
He didn't look over, or offer a hand to be shaken. He kept staring at the screen, and in a low monotone, he said "I'm nowhere. I'm in a dark pit. I'm on a winding road with no ending, and all the stars went out."
"Ok, this guy sounds high!" I exclaim. "You'd better give him a miss!"
"I know," Ozzie says. "But there was something about him...I could't move. I couldn't look away."
"It can't be that bad," Ozzie told him, touching his shoulder. It was cold. John must have just come in from outside.
"That's why he was wet -- it was raining," Ravi says.
"All my life I did the things I was supposed to do," John said. "I saw the people I was supposed to see. All my life I waited. And for what?"
"Notice that he said 'waited,' not 'I've been waiting,'" I point out. "This guy is dead."
Ozzie looks annoyed. "You're giving it away."
Back at the East Side Club, Ozzie decided to move on. "Good luck with...that," he said.
John grabbed his arm. His hand was very cold. "No -- wait," he said, still staring ahead. "Stay with me here. Just for a minute. I just need a minute."
He stood. His Bratwurst was fully aroused. Ozzie noticed that his ankle was in a cast, but he didn't use crutches.
John led Ozzie to a dark corner and hugged him -- he wouldn't kiss -- and felt his chest and penis. The cold, wet skin was a little distasteful, but the guy was cute, so Ozzie quickly found himself aroused. John knelt and went down on him, his hands clamped on his buttocks.
Even his mouth was cold!
Ozzie pulled John to his feet and went down on him. John's Bratwurst was very hard, like iron, but still cold from the rain outside. He had shaved pubic hair. He didn't moan, or speak, or make any sound. It took him only a few minutes to finish with a monumental spurt.
Ozzie rose to his feet. "I'm ready now.," John said, still not looking at him.
"Ready for what?"
Without another word, John walked off into the darkness.
Old Westbury, New York, October 1999
"I was with two other guys that night," Ozzie says. "I didn't think anything about it at the time -- I don't know American celebrities very well. But then I saw the pictures on tv the next day. John F. Kennedy Junior, who crashed into the ocean. He was my guy!"
"Wait -- when was this?" Ravi asks.
"I was at the East Side Club on July 16th, 1999, the day of the crash. I saw his picture on tv the next day."
"His plane crashed late at night. He must have gone from the bath house directly to the airport."
Ozzie shakes his head. "No. I looked it up already. We got to the bathhouse at 9:00 at night, and John took off at 8:39. The crash was about an hour later. When I helped him come out, John was dead already."
"You had sex with a ghost!" Ken exclaims.
"Well, at least it was with a famous ghost," I say.
Ok, what happened that night at the East Side Club?
The last few days of John F. Kennedy Jr.'s life are well-documented
He spent July 13th-15th at the Stanhope Hotel on Fifth Avenue, depressed over his financial difficulties and his relationship with his wife, Carolyn.
They were on their way to a divorce. She thought he was a "fag" because of his many male friendships, especially with the muscular Michael Bergin.
Explanation 1: Struggling to come out, to admit his same-sex interests to himself, Kennedy went to the East Side Club sometime during the week, and Ozzie got the date wrong.
Kennedy had an ankle cast, but it was removed on the 14th.
But Ozzie swears that it was the 16th.
On July 16th, Kennedy got up and went to the office of George magazine at 1633 Broadway. He stayed in the office all day, except for lunch with his editors and working out in the gym. At about 4:00 pm, his sister-in-law Lauren Bessette arrived, and they began their trip to the Essex County Airport, where they would meet his wife and fly to Martha's Vineyard.
Explanation #2: Kennedy went to the East Side Club early in the day on the 16th, and Ozzie got the time wrong.
But Ozzie swears that it was in the evening
Explanation #3: Ozzie hooked up with a guy who looked like John F. Kennedy, Jr., who had just come in out of the rain, and who was a little high..
Explanation #4: There are ghosts wandering the hallways of the East Side Club.
See also: The Amazing Invisible Boy; The Boy Who Refused to Leave My Room
This doesn't count as a celebrity dating story since we're not sure Ozzie's guy was John Kennedy Jr.
ReplyDeleteWhat time did he die? I'm pretty sure about an hour after 8:39 isn't before 9. And JFK Jr's body hair struck me as more than "moderate". Shaving would be odd in the 90s, maybe not for someone out but surely closeted, and the one nude photo of Kennedy we have is bush.
ReplyDeleteAt the same time, the cold could indicate one of the undead. I've taken a hot shower after coming in from the cold before, masturbated during said shower, and when I do so (and only when I do so) my dick ALWAYS warms up before the rest of my body.
The other sign of a ghost being the use of the perfect tense. Not imperfect, "was waiting", "have been waiting", "have waited"; not past perfect, "had waited"; but perfect, "waited".
There's also the parting words. Kind of odd to say to someone who doesn't know what you're referring to. And odd to say to yourself right after sex.
(Man, the ghost part is more plausible than the celebrity part.)
More gay ghost stories please.
They got to the bath house at 9 pm, but Ozzie didn't meet "John" until later in the evening, so it was after JFK Jr. died. Apparently there are quite a lot of stories about meeting ghosts in bath houses.
DeleteIn the late 80s/early 90s, before the internet blossomed, there were chat lines. Some time around 1989 or early 1990, I was on a chat line and 'went private' with a guy so we could talk one-on-one. He was soft-spoken. Shy/reluctant about actually following through with a meeting. "I'm told I look like John Kennedy," he said. Due to his age (I believe he said he was late 20s), I assumed he meant Jr. We never did meet. But after the chat, I thought he gave me the "I'm told I look like John Kennedy" line because he was John Kennedy, and if we did meet, he didn't want anyone fawning over him saying "You're John Kennedy, aren't you?" I'll never know for sure if it was him or not. But it was in New York City, and he did live in NYC at that time.
ReplyDeleteMaybe, but I wondering -- if you want to hide the fact that you are John Kennedy, would you bring it up at all? Maybe you would if you were kind of socially inept,but by all accounts Kennedy was very well spoken.
DeleteHow common was shaved pubic hair in the 90s? Like, just about every guy does it when it's over 90 burger degrees, 32 real degrees, these days.
ReplyDeleteSmall guys sometimes shaved, since it's hard to suck a cock that's lost in a forest of pubic hair. Otherwise it wasn't common. It was perceived as rather feminine, something a drag queen would do.
ReplyDeleteBoomer's comment is true. Guys with small penises tended to be the only shavers. Too much "cosmetic" attention down there can ruin a sexy fellow's appeal.
ReplyDelete