Friday, October 21, 2016

Yuri and the Sausage-Size Contest

Long Island, June 2009

In June 2009, Yuri flies back to the States for a two-week visit. He hasn't been back since he moved to London in 2005, although I went out to visit him two years ago.

I want to see Yuri again, of course, but I also want to see some of my old friends and go to some of my old haunts in New York. Even though Upstate is only five hours away, I haven't gone back.

We meet at JFK, and then drive to a townhouse on Powers Street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where we will stay with his ex-boyfriend Daniel, a history professor into Beat poetry and jazz.

Daniel is a buffed daddy in his 40s, balding, bearded, with thick hard muscles and a few piercings.

He has two roommates:

Brandon, a tall, slim twink with a round face, a bright smile, and olive skin, maybe Hispanic or Asian, a nurse at a hospital nearby.

Tighe (pronounced Teeg), a gym rat in his 30s, rather short with curly red hair and a short beard, who doesn't have a job but does all of the cooking and cleaning to cover his share of the rent.

   
On the first night, we're too tired from our trip to do anything more than go out to dinner, watch tv, and go to bed. We share with Daniel, but not much sharing goes on, just a little kissing and some oral without completion.

In the morning, Yuri and I take the subway into Manhattan to check out the Strand Bookstore, my old gym, Christopher Street, Central Park, and the Museum of Natural History. We return in time for some brief cruising at the Metropolitan before the dinner party.

Daniel and the two roommates are there, plus:

Liam, the boy who gave me a present on his 18th birthday back in 2000, still a cute blond twink, slim and a little swishy.

My friend Barry, the Colonial Williamsburg boy, in his 30s, with a slim compact frame and a square Eastern European face.

His boyfriend, another Daniel (sorry), in his 50s, short-haired, very buffed, with a hairy chest.

Dinner is a grilled eggplant salad, lamb curry, and a Mediterranean fruit soup, discussions of the new Star Trek movie, Ugly Betty, celebrity hookups, dates from hell, and bulge-watching.

"Bulges are nice," Yuri says. "But they lie.  Some big guys don't show, and some small guys look like they are showing.  You look at their hands and feet, talk to them, see their face."

"Face?" Barry repeats.  "What does that tell you?"

"Big guys have a look.  They are confident, fearless.  Small guys are shy.  They look down.  They are afraid.  That is how I always know if the guy is big or small."

"Then how do you end up on dates with small guys?" I ask. "Like the Unhung Hippie. Remember him?"

Yuri shrugs. "I always know if the guy is big or small, but sometimes the big ones aren't worthwhile.   In Russian we say luchsheye vrag khoroshego, if you look for the best, you miss out on the good."

"Well -- " Daniel begins, "If I'm counting right, there are five guys in the room that you haven't seen naked."

Yuri looks around.  "Right.  Just you and Boomer. I met Barry before, but we didn't share."
































"How about a little game?  You guess the sizes of the other five guys, through their pants, without feeling them or seeing them aroused."

"Hum!  Easy!  What do I get if I win?"

"Every guy you guess right has to buy you lunch or dinner while you're in town."

"And if I lose?"

"You have to go down on each guy you are mistaken about.  Two minutes, orgasm not necessary.  Ok, guys?"

They nod their assent.

"Easy!  No problem.  The only guy I go down on tonight is Boomer!" 

He asks them to stand in a row with their hands behind their backs.

Can you figure out their sizes without looking?

Yuri looks at them each, face and crotch, shakes their hands, smiles, asks them a few questions, while they all try to appear confident and fearless.  He writes his size estimate down in a notebook, quickly changes the centimeters to inches, and announces:

Daniel 2:  9"
Brandon:  7.5"
Liam: 8"
Tighe: 10"
Barry:  6"

Next it's time to measure.  Yuri asks them, one at a time, to take it out and bring it to full arousal, with a fluffer if necessary.   I'm ready with a tape measure.  






























Daniel 2: Wrong!  7"
Brandon: Wrong!  5"
Liam: Wrong! 6"
Tighe: Wrong!  7.5"
Barry: Wrong!  8"

"Oh, well.  I am having an off day," Yuri says with a shrug.  "Boomer, help me with these guys.  I cannot do them all myself."

I don't need to be asked twice.  I go down on Brandon and Liam, while Yuri works on Barry, Daniel 2, and then Tighe.

Before long Brandon, Liam, and I are off to one bedroom, Daniel, Daniel 2, and Barry to another, and Yuri and Tighe to a third.  But while Yuri and Tighe are kissing, I grab the notebook from his pocket.

He got every measurement right.

"Hey, you lost on purpose!"  I exclaim.

He shrugs, and his hand moves down to Tighe's crotch.  "Wouldn't you?"



Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Yuri's Sausage List: 20 Super-sized Boyfriends, Dates, and Hookups

Lots of guys like big ones, but Yuri likes them enormous.  If it's not a Mortadella+, he throws them back.

Maybe that's why he hasn't had a lot of long-term boyfriends.  It's hard to find a guy that size who is into you, and who you are compatible with.

I asked him for a list of the most super-sized boyfriends, dates, and hookups he can remember. They have to be someone that he socialized with, no bathhouse hookups or sausage sightings at the gym.

Since we lived together and shared frequently, there's a lot of overlap with my sausage list, but a lot was surprising. 7 Kovbasa or bigger, including 1 Kovbasa++++++ (that's 13 inches!).






Volgograd

Yuri was born in 1974 in Volgograd in southern Russia, about 120 miles west of the Kazakh SSR.  His father was a chemistry teacher, and his mother worked in a factory.  One of his grandfathers was a Kazakh from Astrakhan.

The Kazakh wrestler.  In 1988, when he was 14 years old, Yuri visited his cousins and went to a traditional Kazakh wrestling match.  He had his first sexual experience with one of the wrestlers. Probably a Kovbasa.

Sergeant Andreivich.   In 1992, Yuri graduated from the gymnazia and joined the army.  He began a relationship with Sgt. Andreivich, a middle-aged career soldier with a beard and a hairy chest.  It only lasted a few weeks before Yuri was discharged for having a "psychological deviation. Kielbasa.






St Petersburg

In the fall of 1992, Yuri enrolled in a five-year degree program in geology at St. Petersburg State University.  He had a few sexual experiences, usually with older guys with wives and kids, but didn't think of himself as gay. It was just "guys fooling around."

Pyotr from Mongolia.  A student in Yuri's physics class, the first young guy he had ever been with.  Not actually from Mongolia, from Irkutsk, near Lake Baikal.  Mortadella+




New York

In the fall of 1997, Yuri enrolled in the Ph.D. program in Atmospheric Sciences at Long Island University, and moved into a graduate student apartment on campus.

Boomer.  36 years old, very attractive, with a hairy muscular chest, thick biceps, nice abs.  And openly gay!  Yuri had never met anyone like him before.  After a few months of protesting "I'm not gay," he finally came out on the night of a Holiday Party in December 1997, and shared Boomer's bed.  Not for the last time!  Size classified.

Jock from Australia.  The first guy Yuri landed a date with on his own, without getting Boomer's help.  They had Mexican food, went dancing, and kissed under the stars.  Yuri didn't like him, but his Kielbasa+ was nice.



Kalli the Swedish Bodybuilder.  Yuri met him in Estonia in the summer of 1998, and brought Boomer in to "share" without telling him.  Older guy, very muscular, ugly face, Kovbasa+

Claude the Trophy Boy.  The live-in boyfriend of Ravi, who hosted the bear parties on Long Island, a student at Hostra University.  In the fall of 1998, Yuri convinced them to "share."  Mortadella+

Blake the Opera Buff.  We dated in the fall of 1998, but I was more into his roommate, and used Yuri for a "roommate switch."  They continued dating for about three months. Mortadella 

The Basque Muscle God.  In the summer of 1999, Yuri went to France to visit Boomer, and they looked for the world's biggest penises among the Basques of northern Spain.  The older muscle god Garan took them on a wild date. Kielbasa






Chad from the Help Desk.  Yuri usually didn't like young guys, especially skinny, androgynous guys with long hair and earrings, but Chad, an undergraduate computer science major who manned the help desk, was special.  Kovbasa++

Ozzie from Morocco.  The NYU undergrad who Boomer and Yuri met on Long Island claimed to have hooked up with John Kennedy Jr., and refused to leave Yuri's room in the rain.  Kovbasa+

Daniel.  In January 2000, Yuri met his first long-term boyfriend, a history professor into Beat poetry and jazz. They dated until Yuri moved to Florida, and stayed "long distance boyfriends" for a few months after that.  Bratwurst.  

"See, I don't care if they are small!" Yuri told me.

"Um...Bratwurst is above average."

"Well, small for me."






Florida

In  the fall of 2000, Yuri moved to Florida for a job in atmospheric research.  He moved to Wilton Manors, the gay neighborhood of Fort Lauderdale, and shared a house with Barney, a retired bodybuilder who ran a gym.  It was walking distance to a dozen gay bars and restaurants, with a bath house about a mile away.  Yuri was in heaven!  He did a lot of hooking up, but not a lot of dating.

Andrey the Black Canadian.  3% of the population of Nova Scotia is black, mostly the descendants of American slaves who escaped to the north.  They dated for about a month in the spring of 2001.  Kovbasa++.

Jim the Baseball Player.  They met in the summer of 2003, and dated for about a year, but never lived together.   He was closeted, a source of never-ending conflict for out-and-proud Yuri.   Mortadella








The Alpaca Farmer.  Boomer and Yuri shared the Florida cowboy who raised alpacas and had a small alpaca museum on his property.  Not very attractive, but he did have an enormous Footlong.  Kovbasa+

The Bodybuilder Who Never Got Naked.  "I don't throw them back if they're small!!" Yuri protested.  "What about Keith the Bodybuilder?"  They met in September 2004, and dated for about three months, even though he had some anatomical difficulties.  Average.

The Cop.  Actually a DEA Agent who invited Yuri out on a stakeout for their first (and only) date.  Kovbasa







London

In 2005, Yuri moved to London for a job in ecological systems.  He found a tiny, exorbitantly priced apartment in Soho and immersed himself into London's gay community.

 Nasir the Flight Attendant.  Almost immediately, he started dating Nasir, a flight attendant in his early 30s with a soft, slim physique, a number of tattoos, and a Kovbasa++++++, the biggest Yuri had ever seen.  Unfortunately, it wasn't very functional.  They only dated for a few weeks.

Obnoxious Michael.  I can say that now: I just didn't like the guy.  Yuri's first live-in boyfriend and his longest relationship to date, about three years, from 2006 to 2009.  A bodybuilder in his 40s with tattoos, a little belly, and an obnoxious attitude.  Extra-thick Kielbasa




Minsk

In 2009, Yuri moved to Minsk to become a professor of  atmospheric sciences at Belarussian State University.  He didn't like it, and moved back to London after a year.

The Daddy from Minsk.  In the spring of 2010, Yuri had a passionate, if brief romance with an openly-gay muscle Daddy. Kovbasa

London Again

The Pop Star.  Yuri never had a celebrity dating story before he met Will Young, the British pop star who I had never heard of, but whose albums apparently go platinum.  They dated in the spring of 2016.  Kielbasa

See also: My Sausage List

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Barry Hooks Up with Luke Perry

Sayville, Long Island, November 1999

Yuri and I are in Sayville, visiting my friend Barry, the Colonial Williamsburg boy who escaped from his conservative, homophobic roots through drinking, drugs, and anonymous hookups, but has now been transformed into a health-conscious gym rat who practices Zen Buddhism and goes to gay Catholic Masses.

We're watching Beverly Hills 90210, about the angst-ridden lives of Southern California glitz kids.  I've never seen it -- why should I watch a program about the glitz and glamour of a mythical Beverly Hills, when I lived a mile away from the real one?

But tonight, one of the four subplots is about gay bashing: Dylan (Luke Perry) and his friend Andrew (Rob Derringer) are assaulted outside a gay community center in West Hollywood. Andrew doesn't want to report the incident, because if he is outed, he will lose his job.

"California has job protections for gay people!" I complain.  "And who gets bashed in West Hollywood?  I lived there for ten years, from 1985 to 1995 -- it was a small town, quiet, peaceful, where you knew your neighbors and everybody helped each other."

"That's funny," Barry says.  "I moved to West Hollywood in 1995, just as you were leaving, but I didn't find a small town at all.  It was cold and hard.  Everybody wanted to use you.  I didn't know anybody, for real.  I did a lot of drugs, mostly Ecstasy and crystal.  I danced all night, and hooked up a lot, and hustled."

"Hustled?" Yuri asks.

"Prostitute," I explain.

"You were prostitute?"

"Rent boy," Barry corrects me.  "I had a high class clientele.  They picked me up in limousines, took me to the best restaurants, kept me overnight in the best hotels, brought in the best drugs, but then always sent me home alone."


Barry wants to talk about how empty his life was before his transformation, a standard "I was lost but now I'm found" motif, but Yuri will have none of it.  He's been out for less than two years, he's never been to West Hollywood, and he wants everything there to be bright and shining and joyous.  "That is very exciting.  Do you meet any famous people?"

"A couple.  Him, for instance."  He points to Dylan Walsh, played by Luke Perry.

"Yuck!" I say instinctively.  "That long face, receding hairline, squinty eyes.  I'd go with Jason Priestly.  Much cuter, and we know that he has a big one from that photo of him on a nude beach that's been making the rounds of the internet [left]."

"No, Dylan is cute," Yuri protests.  "And I think he has a big one."

"Mega-gigantic!" Barry says.



West Hollywood, July 1997

Barry was not in the best frame of mind -- not much sleep last night, nothing to eat all day but some stale donuts for breakfast and leftover macaroni and cheese for dinner, no Ecstasy to be had from any of his usual sources.  He had been dancing for six hours on nothing but adrenaline and beer, and an occasional mojito sent over by a Creepy Old Guy hoping to get into his pants.

But his rent was coming due, and nobody was getting into his pants tonight unless he had $50, some primo crystal, or a pornstar-sized penis.

He tried all of the gay dance clubs in West Hollywood, and then he went up the hill to Sunset Boulevard, where young, hip, homophobic straights hung out.  Straight clubs were iffy -- you got cruised by women, you couldn't dance with men -- but if you played your cards right, you could go home with some superstud actor wannabes whose girlfriends were "out of town."

Tonight he hit the jackpot -- he had only just walked into Whiskey a Go Go, when he saw Luke Perry!  Sitting in a booth with an entourage of men.

Troubled loner Dylan Walsh on Beverly Hills 90210.

The outsider who resonated with Barry's life, growing up gay in conservative Colonial Williamsburg.

The glamorous world of Beverly Hills, 90210, where the sun was always shining and the guys were always hot.  Friendship.  Freedom.  Community.

An icon of Barry's childhood.  He even had a Dylan Walsh doll (no penis -- he checked).

There was no question about it -- he was going to trick with Luke Perry!

He walked up, started a conversation, got offered a beer but no crystal.  The entourage moved away, as if they knew the routine, as if Luke had done this before.

After some cruising, he followed Luke to the Parc Suites off La Cienega, and waited in the car while Luke paid for a room.

They kissed in the elevator -- a soft, warm "first date" kiss, not the aggressive, tongue-swallowing kiss of a trick.

Inside the hotel, they collapsed onto the bed, kissing and fondling. Luke's Mortadella+ became instantly aroused.  But Barry didn't.

"We don't have to do anything right away," Luke said with a frown.  "We can just cuddle."

"No, I'm into it.  I just need a few minutes.  I've never been with such a big star before -- or such a big penis -- I've got stage fright."

Luke didn't have stage fright -- he took off his pants and underwear and lay down on the bed with his legs spread.  Barry went down on him while Luke stroked his hair.

When he finished, Barry went to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth, and then returned to bed.  "Could we just cuddle now?"  he asked.  "I'm really tired."

"Sure, whatever you want."  Luke put his both arms around Barry and kissed him twice, once on the lips and once on the forehead.  Then he turned out the lights.

This is what gay life is supposed to be like, Barry thought.  Not endless nights of drugged-out dancing and tricking, wandering mean streets looking for yet another guy with a nice car and $50, then going home alone and empty.  It's supposed to be about caring for each other.  It's supposed to be about love.

Barry stayed awake all night, not wanting to miss a second of the warmth of Luke's arms, his soft breathing, his heartbeat.

He got up early in the morning, while it was still dark out, dressed, gave Luke one final kiss, and left.  You can't go home again, he thought.  It's too late.  Besides, he really wanted to score some crystal.

Sayville, Long Island, November 1999

 "It was nearly a year later when I encountered the Creepy Old Guy in a hotel corridor and started praying the rosary again," Barry tells us.  He went back home to Williamsburg, where his parents were delighted to reunite with him.  He gave up the bars, went to drug counseling, joined a gym, began practicing Zen meditation, and started going to Dignity, the gay Catholic group.

"Sad story," Yuri says.  "Does it mean that we won't share tonight?"

Barry laughs.  "Not until I get to know you a little better."


Was Barry telling the truth?

The guy Barry hooked up with never once said that he was in fact, Luke Perry the actor.

In July 1997, Luke Perry was married to Rachel Sharp.  Their first child, Jack Perry, was about a month old.  Luke has also dated Rene Zellweger, Kelly Preston, Shannon Doherty, and Yasmine Bleeth.

He's a gay ally who has played gay characters many times, including "himself" as gay on Family Guy.  One would think that, if he were gay or bisexual in real life, he would be open about it.

His penis, as we discovered on Oz in 2001, is not nearly as big as Barry claimed, but maybe he's a grower.

It seems odd that Barry would tell the Luke Perry story just as we were watching him on tv, as if he only just thought of it.

But why make up a story about that particular celebrity, when any icon of his childhood would do?

See also: Barry and the Creepy Old Guy

Monday, October 17, 2016

A Crush on the Girl Next Door's Boyfriend

Rock Island, August 1975

When I was a kid, I was pretty aggressive.  In fifth grade, I was dating Bill and inviting cute guys to sleepovers; plus I gave a massage to a high school boy, strategized to see Randy the Golden Boy in his underwear and the Sanderson boys naked, fell asleep in a sailor's arms, and felt three wieners.

But during puberty, it was no longer a vague, amorphous wish to be close to him or see him naked.  I wanted more than that, to touch, taste, and fondle.  The desire was intense, immediate, and overtly erotic.

So I became shy and circumspect, especially around adults.

During the summer after ninth grade, we moved to a new house, only a few blocks away from our old house on 41st Street, but bigger, with a double yard where my parents could do their beloved outdoor entertaining.  They immediately became friendly with the neighbors.

The family next door had a teenage daughter, Julie, who was majoring in business at Augustana College.  We didn't socialize much -- I tried to avoid talking to girls as much as possible, since my parents interpreted the most trivial "hello" as evidence that I was smitten.

 And Julie, though all smiles around my parents, had no use for kids.  Every morning we left our houses at the same time; she swept past me without a word, scowling like the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz.

You could almost hear "Da-da-da-da-da-daaa," the music that plays when the Witch comes on stage (it's called "Miss Gulch," composed by Herbert Stothart).

Ok, she wasn't that bad.  But I wouldn't have socialized with her at all except for her boyfriend Conrad.

He was an education major at Augustana, tall and slim, with a handsome square face and a bright smile.  Brown hair, a severe military haircut -- unusual in the shaggy-haired 1970s.   A little shy and quiet, always deferring to Julie.  But he always had a smile for me and my younger brother, and he always tried to engage us in conversation.

They went swimming several times a week, and Conrad picked her up wearing his swimsuit.  A smooth, tight chest, lightly tanned, an "innie" belly button, and an enormous bulge!  I was desperate to ask if I could come along, but of course they were too old for me to hang out with.

One Saturday in August 1975, about a week after I learned about oral sex in the church parking lot, Mom and Dad held a barbecue for their friends and neighbors.  There were about 30 people on five picnic tables in the side yard, eating hamburgers and hot dogs from paper plates, drinking sodas and lemonade from plastic cups.

The family next door was there, but not Julie.  Or Conrad.

Then, when we were about ready for dessert, they came rushing into the back yard, wearing swimsuits, carrying beach bags.  "Sorry -- we were at the pool and we lost track of time," Julie told Mom.

"No problem, there's lots of hot dogs left, and some potato salad and chips.  Go and change clothes, and come back."

  "Great, thanks.  We'll just pop next door and be right back."

Mom frowned, realizing that they would probably be changing in the same room, and see each other naked!  "It will save time if Conrad changes in our house," she said.  "Boomer, show him where the bathroom is, ok?"

"Um...sure, sure."  My heart started to beat faster, and I felt uncomfortably warm.  I was going to get a sausage sighting!  Maybe Conrad would even let me...

Trembling with anticipation, I led Conrad through the back door and into the kitchen, where one of our neighbors was cutting cake into squares, then through the hallway to the bathroom.  What excuse could I use to go in with him?

The bathroom door was shut.  I knocked.  "Occupied!" someone yelled.

"Um...that's ok, you can change in my room," I said, thinking fast.  "This way."

Back through the kitchen and up the stairs to my attic room.  I sat down on the bed.  Conrad put down his beach bag, turned his back to me, and dropped his swimsuit.

No!  I was too close!  I glanced around the room.  What could draw his interest?  "Hey...see the poster over my bed?  That's Mark Spitz.   He won 7 gold medals at the 1972 Olympics in Munich."

Conrad turned to look.  He stood in front of me, naked.  A gigantic cut Kielbasa, five inches from my face!

"Nice," he said with utter nonchalance.  "I didn't think you were into sports."

"I'm not.  I just like swimmers.  I mean I like swimming.  Or swimmers who are swimming, I mean."

Conrad stood there, immobile, a frown on his face, as if he was trying to figure out a hard math problem.

He's waiting for me! I thought.  Reach out and touch it!  Go down on him!  But I froze.  "Um...um...I took swimming lessons ever since I was a kid.  I have some Boy Scout training manuals, if you'd like to see them."

He was still standing there.  Waiting for me!  I stood and brushed past him, being careful to "accidentally" brush against his penis with my hand.  "Oops, sorry."  I walked, so shakily that I thought I would fall, to my dresser, opened the top drawer, and pretended to rummage around.

"Maybe later -- right now I'm really hungry."  I heard Conrad fumbling around in his beach bag.  Pulling up his pants.

"You ok, Boomer?"

I turned.  Conrad was buttoning up his shirt.

"Yeah," I said, managing a weak smile.  "I can't find my training manuals, is all."

"Let me know when you find them.  I'd be interested in seeing them."  He put his trunks into the beach bag, slid on his sandals, and walked past me to the stairway.  "Ready to go back downstairs?"

"Oh, I have a couple of things to do.  You go on."

"Ok.  Thanks for letting me change up here."  He touched my shoulder.  "I'll see you soon, ok?"

I stayed in my room for the rest of the afternoon.  When my brother came upstairs to see where I was, I told him I had a stomach ache.  Later Mom brought up some chicken soup and told me I shouldn't have eaten so many hot dogs.

When the fall semester started, I was in school all day, and rarely saw Julie -- or Conrad.  Around Christmastime, I asked about him, and Julie said that they broke up.

See also: I Learn About Oral Sex in the Church Parking Lot; Going to Bed with the Boy Next Door.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

Asian Boyfriends, Hookups, Hunks, and Sausage Sightings

When I was growing up in Rock Island, I never saw anyone of East Asian ancestry, ever, not even a face in the crowd.  So the exotic became erotic, and I've been especially attracted to Asian men ever since.  

Here are some of my top Asian dates, hookups, and sausage sightings.  Asian will mean men who can trace their ancestry to China, Japan, Korea, Southeast Asia, or the Philippines.















Childhood

Chi Ehr,  my first Asian boyfriend.  I only saw him for a moment, but his dazzling, seductive smile was an iconic part of my childhood.  I ran into him years later.


Peter, a science nerd from Washington Junior High.  We competed over my boyfriend Dan at a sleepover.

Augustana College

The Korean Muscle Bear who moved in next door.  My bedroom window looked down into his kitchen, where I could see him walking around in his underwear.

Indiana University

Sunan, a bisexual Thai boy who Viju and I picked up at Bullwinkle's.  The next day he picked up his girlfriend, and all four of us went out to breakfast without letting on that we had spent the night together.  

Texas

Dan, a Korean twink who answered my personal ad in the Montrose Voice. Worked in a grocery store, chain-smoked.  







West Hollywood

Huan.  I arrived in West Hollywood with the Gayellow Pages in my hands, and within two days I was at Mugi, a gay Asian bar.  I had never seen so many cute Asian guys in my life, and they were all available!  I ended up accepting a date with the first guy who cruised me, Huan, who had been in the U.S. only a few months and didn't speak English well.  

Jin. Alan moved to Japan in the summer of 1986 to start a gay Pentecostal church, and I visited him for the summer.  We shared a tiny apartment, about 216 square feet (the size of a bedroom in America), so when one of us had a guy over, the other had no choice but to watch or join in.  The most memorable of our hookups was Jin, who kept going back and forth between our futons all night.   









Minoru.  Another of Alan's hookups who played futon-switching. 19 year old student majoring in German literature. 

Tranh.  A gym rat in West Hollywood who I worked on for weeks before a celebrity tried to steal him away.  Alan got him back by asking for the date for himself, with me taging along.  We all ended up friends.  .










Chehay.  The slim, soft survivor of the Pol Pot atrocities, whose Cambodian drag queen Aunti Bopha cornered me at Mugi in an attempt to marry him off.  

Tyler.  A third-generation Chinese-American twink who was the current boyfriend of my housemate Derek's ex.  If that sounds complicated, the story of trying to get with him is even more. 












Ramon.   We met him in Barcelona.  He didn't speak Chinese, but he was fluent in Catalan and a promoter of Catalonian independence.  We had quite a heady conversation for a hookup.  

New York

Prasert.  During my summer in Paris, I hooked up with the chef at the Suam Thai restaurant.  




The Man in Black who accosted me on Christopher Street in a weird paranormal experience.

Shen.  An undergrad history major from China.  We just went on one date, and spent the whole evening awkwardly kissing and cuddling in bed.  

Peter.  An undergraduate sociology major, Filipino.  My professor introduced us in the spring of 2001.  Another series of dates spent mostly in the bedroom.  











Dayton

Tony. I tried to hook up with Bobby Chan, the Chinese food delivery guy, but got his friend instead, a grad student in political science at Ohio State University. 


Chao.  The guy Tony dated immediately after our hookup.  We "shared," my first and only time with two Asian guys at once.  





Upstate

Chad A waiter at the Neptune, the Satyr's housemate and "boy toy."  We dated from October through February. 


Mike.  A twink who came to our bear party, but said he was nervous and asked if we could go off somewhere alone.  He gradually increased the number of guys in the room until it was full.  

Philadelphia

Akamu..  I was staying with friends for the weekend, and their housemate brought him home.  Laotian. He came into my room in the middle of the night.  








The Plains

Nguyen  A muscular gym rat from Minnesota.  I actually hooked up with his cousin at an art gallery.

Phil, a middle-aged bisexual who comes to the M4M Parties.  

See also: My Top Black Boyfriends and Hookups.; 16 West Hollywood Hunks That I've Been Keeping Secret.