Monday, July 31, 2017

Tony Dow and Kurt Hook Up with a High School Boy

I've been asking friends, ex-boyfriends, and ex-boyfriends of ex-boyfriends for gay dating or hookup stories involving Tony Dow, the Baby Boomer icon, Wally on the nuclear family sitcom Leave It to Beaver.

I've come up empty.  A lot of stories involving actors from the 1960s that I didn't know were gay or bi: Jon Provost, Brandon DeWilde, Bobby Driscoll, Jack Wild, Jay North.  I'll have to do some fact-checking before I can post them.

But none involving Tony Dow,  until a few nights ago, when I got a email from Jock, a 69-year old retired landscaper and Uber driver from Tucson, who is a friend of one of Randall the Muscle Bear's ex-boyfriends.  It led to a long conversation on Facebook Instant Messenger, and one of the wildest celebrity hookup stories I've ever heard.

I'll reproduce it using Jock's words as much as possible.

Marysville, California, September 1966

In August 1966 I was a skinny 18 years old with big ears and a big cock, just out of high school in Mission Viejo, working at Martin's, and, like most teenage boys at the time, worried about two things:
1. Where is my next blow job coming from?
2. How can I avoid being shipped to Vietnam?

Joining the California Air National Guard solved both problems.  It was military service, so Dad wouldn't get sore and call me a "coward," but no one would be shooting at me.  The 12-week basic training was held at Beale Air Force Base in Marysville, California, about 40 miles north of Sacramento.

And it was wall-to-wall hunks,  working out together, showering together, bedding down for the night together.

We were all young, hung, and full of cum.  I got more action than the 7th flee on shore leave in Singapore!

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  I have to tell you about Tony Dow.

He was one of the guys in my squadron!  Cute face, smooth tight chest with those pinprick nipples, nice abs,  surprisingly dark tan, nice bulge.  His cock was about four inches soft, thick around, semi-uncut, you know, with the head peeping out from the foreskin.

"Did you ever see it aroused?" I interrupted

"See, or taste?"

My uncle was cameraman for NBC, and he introduced me to a lot of celebrity kids, so I wasn't too starstruck over Tony.  We didn't hang out, except when a whole group of us went into town to go dancing at Chiseler's Inn or to a movie, or to a basketball game at the high school to try to pick up some "girls" (or at least that's what they said).

Tony was a regular guy, not stuck up at all, and not nearly as squeaky clean as his Wally character.  He drank -- gin and tonic, I think.  He smoked pot.  He listened to the Rolling Stones.  And on more than one occasion, he met a Cute Young Thing and took off for some late night hanky-panky, if you get my meaning.

"Male Cute Young Things? He went off with boys?"

Let me set up the picture.  First you need to know that Tony usually went around with his friend Kurt --  a tall guy, curly dark-blond hair, pale, kind of skinny, but all dick, hung to his knees.

Well, one night a lot of us are at the old State Theater on E Street -- I think we were watching Way, Way Out, with Jerry Lewis as an astronaut -- , and Kurt sort of vanishes.  Tony keeps looking around for him, but he never comes back.

After the movie, we're in the lobby, eating our leftover popcorn, wondering if we should go looking for him, when he comes down from the balcony with his arm around a high school boy.  Black hair in a military buzz cut, cute jock's face, thin, so short that he barely came to Kurt's shoulder.


"This is Frankie," Kurt announced.  "He's a senior.  We're going to...um...go get a malted."

Frankie giggled and slapped him.

"Not without me, you're not!" Tony exclaimed.  He looked kind of angry.  "Somebody's got to keep you out of trouble."

Kurt turned to Frankie.

"Can my stick-in-the-mud sidekick tag along, to keep us out of trouble?  He doesn't eat much."

Frankie looked him up and down, and grinned.   "Hey, I know you!  Wally, right?"



"Tony."

"But don't hold that against him," Kurt said.  "He puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us."

"Well, actually, it takes me a little longer to get my pants on," Tony said.  "I have to find a place for everything."

"Was that supposed to be a quip about how big his penis was?"

"I think so.  Comes across as kind of lame, but remember, we were surrounded by straight guys, so he couldn't say anything openly."


Frankie reached out his hand, as if he wanted to shake, but instead he pressed it hard against Tony's chest.

Kurt glared at him.

"You think he was angry at Tony for squeezing in on his date?"

"Or, more likely, worried that the high school kid liked Tony better."

"Well, we'd better get off," Kurt said.  "We've got a lot of malteds to drink before the last bus back to the base."

I was anxious to get some cock myself -- the best cruising in Marysville was on 1st Street, down by the river.  But I was curious about what Kurt and Tony were up to, so I followed them -- at a discrete distance.

They walked right past the soda shop and kept going, up B street to a little playground near Ellis Lake.  It had monkey bars, a slide, and a swing set, with some clumps of trees where I could hide and snoop.

They were swinging.

This was hardly the three-way I was expecting!

I was about ready to turn back and go cruising, when suddenly Kurt pulls Frankie off his swing and starts kissing him.  They don't even look for a secluded spot!

Tony pulls them away, to a little clump of trees.

I can't see very well, but it looks like Kurt has his arm around Tony, and Frankie is on his knees. Going down on both of them.  I see a little flash of what could be Tony's cock.

I keep watching, hoping to see more cock, or at least some more kissing.  But it never happens.  All I see is Tony arching his back: I'm guessing that's his spurt.

After awhile Frankie stands up, and they walk off toward the soda shop.

Later, at the dormitory, I asked Tony, "Did you guys have fun?"

"Sure," Tony said.  "Double chocolate malted, outta sight."

"Why didn't you come out to him, let him know he had a kindred spirit?"

"It was 1966 -- I didn't dare.  Besides, I didn't think he was gay.  In those days, straight guys got blow jobs from guys, too, as I found out later, in the latrine.  But that's another story."

The story continues with: Sex with Jock in the Barracks Bathroom.

Was Jock Telling the Truth?

The details check out -- Jock was probably in Tony's barracks during basic training in 1966.  But I'm wondering how he managed to see a three-way from a considerable distance, in the dark.  Sounds like a fantasy.

But if it was a fantasy, why didn't he make it about himself?

"My Three-Way with Tony Dow and a High School Boy" would make a great celebrity hookup story.

"Spying on Them and Just Seeing a Flash of Cock," not so great.

See also: Gay Dating Stories with Tony Dow; The Glory Hole at the Air Force Base.

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