Sunday, August 21, 2016

Jester, the Blind Boy with the 12" Penis

San Bernardino, June 1997

My friend David and I have driven down from San Francisco to visit West Hollywood, and now we're spending the weekend with Fred in San Bernardino.  He recently broke up with Matt, his partner of ten years, and lost his ministerial job in Fresno.  I want to make sure he's doing ok.

I asked Matt to come, but he refused.  Not just yet.  But they'll get together soon.  In gay communities, exes almost always stay friends.  Often they become your closest friends.  And, when you visit, they always invite you back into their bed.

I'm looking forward to it.  Fred was my first boyfriend, too, and there's always been something warm and comforting about sharing an ex-boyfriend's bed again.

When we arrive at Fred's apartment near Meadowbrook Park in San Bernardino, a Cute Young Thing answers the door.

"Hi, I'm Cody.  Fred is busy cooking, but he'll be out in a minute."

We stammer our introductions.  We didn't expect Fred to have a new boyfriend so soon after the breakup.  And especially a Cute Young Thing: about 20, short and slim with slicked-back blond hair, wearing a red muscle shirt, cut-off jeans with a decided bulge, and no shoes. A bit fragile and fey for my tastes, wearing three rings, one ostentatiously big.  Reeking of cologne.

Fred likes his guys pretty and girlish.  I don't.

We drop our bags in the foyer, say "hello" to Fred, puttering over some kind of pasta salad in the kitchen, and sit down in the living room.  Cody brings us sodas, and iced tea for himself.

Cody in the picture makes getting into Fred's bed a problem.  Fred and Cody couldn't invite both of us to "share": sharing is for three only.  Nor would they invite one and leave the other alone in the guest room, listening to the sounds of sex, lonely and upset.  The only solution is to not share at all.

David and I glance at each other with weak smiles, both thinking the same thing: I've been with this guy before.  He's hot and everything, but I came here planning to sleep with Fred.

We think of a solution at the same time: if one of us hooks up tonight, then the other will be free to be invited into Fred and Cody's bed.

When Fred comes out into the living room, David asks, "So, Fred, what do you have planned for us to do tonight?  A cruise bar, I hope.  Boomer and I are hot for some Inner Empire studmuffins."

"Maybe tomorrow night.  Tonight we have a dinner party planned.  The other guys will be here in a few minutes."

A party?  Even better.  West Hollywood Parties always end with guys pairing off and hitting the bedrooms.  I could share with Fred and Cody, and David could find someone else.

I've met two of the guys before -- Jerome and Mark, older, sagging, not very impressive.  I'd rather sleep alone.

But the third! Jester ("not my real name -- I got it when I came out").  In his 20s, tall, tanned, heavily muscled, with black hair, a round face, and a bright smile.  Blind -- he came in on Jerome's arm, but after that found his way around the apartment with no help.

I nudge David and whisper "How about if we share Jester tonight, and leave Fred and Cody to themselves?"

"Agreed."

Over vegetarian Greek pasta salad, fresh bread, red beets, and cabbage, we have our usual conversations about movies, tv, homophobic coworkers, celebrity hookups, and dates from hell.  Cody tells his coming out story.  Then David  turns to Jester.

"And now the Jester.  I love that nickname!  How did you ever come up with it?"

"Let someone else tell their story," Jester says.  "Mine is really long and boring."

"Come on, don't be shy," David says.  "It can't be as long as Boomer's penis."

Everyone laughs.

"David should know," I say.  "He goes down on me as often as I can talk him into it.  His skill in that area is legendary."

Hardly proper dinner conversation, but we are trying to incite Jester's interest any way we can, without him being able to see or touch us.

Jester still refuses to tell his coming out story.

After dinner we retreat to the living room for dessert and party games.  David and I try to jostle for a position next to Jester, but he sits between Jerome and Cody.

Our main game is "guess the penis," which requires you to stand in a row behind a bench, your penis on display, while a guy who is blindfolded tries to decide who belongs to which just by fondling it (use your hands, not your mouth).

When it's my turn, I guess Fred and David well enough, but the gigantic Kovbasa++, six inches soft?  Your penis shrinks as you age -- it must belong to Cody or Jester.

"Jester!" I exclaim.

"Right!" he says.  "Hardly anybody gets that about me.  They think because you're blind, you must be small."

"Oh, I don't think you're small in any way" I say, stroking him a bit before moving on to the next guy.

Now I really want to spend the night with Jester.  I corner him in the kitchen, put my hand on his shoulder, and ask "Do you need a ride home?"

"No,  thanks.  I...."

Suddenly David is there, putting his arm around Jester.  "So you're the guy with the footlong, an inch or so bigger than Boomer.  Has he been giving you tips on how to fend off the size queens?  Like me, for example?"  He cups Jester's crotch.

"Down, boys," Jester says with a grin, moving his hand away.  "You'll have to ask my boyfriend before squeezing the merchandise."

His boyfriend?  Who...he arrived on Jerome's arm -- he must be dating Jerome!

Surprised and embarrassed, we return to the living room.  Jerome and Mark are just putting their raincoats on to say goodnight.  No doubt Jester will be following them.

But he doesn't.

What's going on?  Maybe Jester is Fred and Cody's roommate?  Then where's his boyfriend?

"Well, I guess we'll go to bed, too," David says.  "It was a long drive down here."

"We still have to discuss the sleeping arrangements," Fred says.  "If you guys want to be in the same bed, you can have Cody's room.  Otherwise one of you can sleep with Cody, and the other with Jester and me."

I stare, open mouthed.  Jester is the boyfriend, and Cody the roommate!

Questions flood my mind. Why does Fred have a roommate, when he never did in 10 years of living with Matt?  Why didn't he let on that Jester was his boyfriend, and Cody his roommate?

"Dibs on Fred and Jester!" David calls.  He nudges me.  "You snooze, you lose, buddy."

Cody smiles at me.  "Which side of the bed do you want?"

On the bright side, Cody was a great kisser, and had a constantly-aroused Bratwurst.  I went down on him twice.

Jester's story continues in The White Knight and the Jester

See also: The Substitute for Sharing; My Sausage List ; and 12 Disabled Dates

12 Disabled Dates and Handicapped Hookups

20% of the population has a disability.  10% has a severe disability, requiring special aids to engage in everyday activities.

10% is a lot.   If you hookup once a week, you'll be going down on five disabled guys in a year.  If you have 10 boyfriends during the course of your life, one of them will probably be disabled.

Most disabled guys don't want to be fetishized, felt sorry for, or complimented on how bravely they have overcome adversity.  They just want to have the things everybody else has: a job, an apartment, friends, boyfriends, and erotic exploration.

Here are 12 disabled dates and handicapped hookups, plus a couple of sausage sightings.











1. Danny from third grade, who I pushed my way into a friendship with in third grade, wore a leg brace.  I ran into him in high school, and was invited to a sleepover at his house.  Nice sausage sighting.

2. Mark, a paraplegic due to a diving accident, was in some of my classes at Augustana.  Nice upper body.














3. Jimmy, the Bodybuilder on Crutches.  When I was in grad school in Bloomington, I started dating Jimmy, a grad student in social work who had cerebral palsy: he had to use crutches to get around, giving him an amazing bodybuilder's physique with 0% body fat.

4. Mario, a very cute deaf leatherman used to be a regular at the Faultline in West Hollywood.  Lane and I had him over for a three-way.








5. Jester, The Blind Guy with the Kovbasa+, who Fred dated after he broke up with Matt.  As a teenager, he tried to commit suicide by shooting himself, but ended up blind instead.

6. Ramon, who had a missing right arm, asked me to go ice skating with him in New York.  I had never been ice skating before.
















7. Raphael, Gay Psychic Angel.  In Florida in 2002, an angel showed up at my door to discuss New Age religions.  He did a psychic reading, we kissed, and he gave me his telephone number, but I chickened out.  His arms didn't work; they hung loosely at his side.

8. Ethan, the Boy in the Wheelchair, who I met in Dayton in 2005.  He wanted an S&M scene, which involved tying his hands behind his back and his non-working legs together.













9. Tommy in Dayton.  Another blind guy I dated, who said he could tell someone's penis size by listening to them urinate.  Or you could just feel your way.

10. Andy, who I met at a comic book store on the Plains in 2015, had more severe cerebral palsy than Jimmy: slurred speech, spastic movements.  He had a Daddy fetish, and wanted to rip my clothes off -- not very easy when your hands don't work well.











11. Robert, who I met on the Plains in 2015.  He was deaf but could lip-read, and wanted a S&M scene.  No blindfold, of course.

12. My Mentally Disabled Neighbor, who took me on a date to see Kansas, and then back to his apartment for the "underwear" stuff.





L

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