Sunday, April 16, 2017

Hookup from Hell on the Plains

Plains, April 2017

I thought all the crazies were back in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas in 1984.

It was my fault: the guy had no profile picture on Grindr, the photo he sent me was a penis only, and his profile said "I'm Up for Anything," definite warning signs.

And I skimped on the interview: his name was Brett, he was 23, ok with no anal, and "you going to invite me over or what?"

But I was mad because a hookup failed to show up earlier after endless emails going back and forth, so I thought "Why not?  He's hung."







The Hookup from Hell

First Brett goes to the wrong building. Then when I direct him to the right building, he can't find the front entrance, and I have to go downstairs and fetch him.

He's slimmer, paler, and younger than the buffed guy in the photo, AND he won't shake hands.

He stares at the building.  "This place is pretty big.  Does anybody know you're...?"

"Some of them.  Why?"

"Don't talk to me or look at me.  Just walk to your apartment, and I'll follow."

A 23 year old in 2017, as skittish as a pre-Stonewall closet queen?  Weird!  But I'm in it this far....

Brett comes into my apartment and looks around.  "Are we alone?  Is anybody else here?"

"Um...no.  Why?"

Great, he's going to rob me!  But I'm three times his size!  

"Just making sure.  Got any wine?"

"No, I have Diet Coke, orange juice, and cranberry juice."

"No, thanks.  Let's just go in the bedroom."

I lead him into the bedroom and start kissing and fondling him.  He says "I'm really nervous" and breaks away.

Mr. "Up for Anything" is nervous?

"Ok, let's talk for awhile." .I sit him on the bed and put my arm around him.  "Where are you from?"

"[Small town nearby]. I'm only 15."

Whoa....

I remove my arm.  "Ok.  Let's go online and find you some gay youth groups."

"I'm not 15, I'm 23.  I just wanted to see how you would react."

 I'd better card this jerk.  "Can I see your id?"

He shows me.  Nineteen.  So he's lied twice...

"Have you ever been with a guy before?" he asks.

"Um...yeah."

"Who?  Show me their pictures."

I'm getting tired of this guy, but I take out my phone and show him some pictures.

"He's young.  You like young guys?"

"Um...yeah."

"You got a wife?"

"No...gay, remember?  I have a boyfriend."

"Does he care if you do things with other guys?"

"No.  We even do things together."

"Call him.  Invite him here."

He's really making me work for it!  "Sorry, my boyfriend is at work."

"Well, call another guy you been with, have him come over here for a three way."

"Why don't you call one of the guys you've been with?" I counter.

"You want to have a three way with my girlfriend?"  Brett asks, grinning.

Girlfriend?  "No!  Gay, remember?"  I put my arm around him again.  "What's wrong with just the two of us?"

"Nothing, I guess. So, you got $20 for gas?"

Great, now he's a hustler!  "Sorry, I never pay for hustlers."

"Hustler?" Brett repeats.  "What's that?"

"Paying for sex."

He brightens, as if the idea has just occurred to him.  "That's right.  You want some of my cock, you got to pay me $20."

"No, no, you can't say it like that.  It's illegal -- you could get arrested.  You have to phrase it like 'can you lend me some money?'"

"Ok...you want some of my cock, you got to lend me some money."  He begins fondling himself.

"You going to show me the merchandise first?"

Brett pulls it out.  Aroused, maybe five inches.

"I don't know, that's pretty small," I tell him.  "Hustlers should have big cocks."

"It gets bigger."

"Let me get my mouth on it, and we'll see."  I reach over to fondle it.  He puts it back in his pants.

Enough is enough.  "Ok, well, it's been nice chatting, but I have a lot to do today."

He laughs.  "You do not!  You're just mad 'cause I won't let you go down on me."

"Well, yeah.  I invited you here for sex, and instead I get a bunch of underage, bisexual three-way, and hustler nonsense,  It's been..interesting, but time for you to go."

He gets up and heads out into the hallway.  I follow, to make sure he doesn't steal anything on the way out.

"You don't have to escort me out."

I stand in the foyer, watching him.

Brett walks toward the door, then turns back, puts his arms around me, and kisses me.  A long, deep, passionate kiss.

I break away, and check to make sure my wallet is still there.

"Just a taste of what you're missing out on, Fool."

And he is gone.

See also: The Worst Date in Ohio History; Dates from Hell.; My Hookup with the Bodybuilder Goes Wrong.

Will the Bondage Boy Hooks Up with Peter Fonda

West Hollywood, April 1993

Every year Lane's mother Rosa hosted a huge Passover seder.  Her house on Crescent Heights was packed with relatives from New York, friends from Temple Beth El, employees, neighbors, and minor celebrities.  I went twice as Lane's roommate or boyfriend (depending on who asked).

Rosa died last year, so Lane has the responsibility of hosting.  Fifty people will never fit into our small two-bedroom apartment, so he's paring down last year's guest list, deleting Rosa's old housekeeper, the great-uncle that he only saw once a year, crotchety neighbors, and the elderly ladies from the Hadassah League.

"What do you think?" Lane asks.  "Should we keep Jane and Peter Fonda?"

I look over his shoulder at the guest list: Jane Fonda and Ted Turner. Peter and Portia Fonda.  "Rosa knew them?"

"Sure. They met when Jane's husband Tom Hayden was running for Senate. She's been to seder several times, [Her brother] Peter only once that I can remember, but Mom invited them every year."

The 1960s counterculture heroes sitting down to Passover dinner with Lane's elderly, kugel-baking mother?   It seemed bizarre.  But, I remembered, Rosa's politics were very liberal.  When she was younger, she wrote for a radical Zionist newspaper.

"Should I continue the tradition?  It means four table settings, and they probably won't come.

"Go for it.  I'd like to meet them."

A few days later, at lunch with Will the Bondage Boy, I mention the Jane and Peter Fonda guest list.

"Can I get an invitation?" he asks.  "It would be fun to see Peter Fonda again.  I wonder if he remembers our trick."  [Trick was our word for a hookup.]

"You tricked with the star of Easy Rider?  Why haven't you told this story before?  You always tell about Keanu Reeves."

He shrugs.  "Nothing to tell.  We tricked, the end.  A jealous-lover bondage fantasy with Keanu Reeves is much more interesting."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Tijuana, April 1978

Will was 20 years old, a sophomore at Occidental College, a Cute Young Thing ready for action.  This was before the fear of AIDS shut down all the bathhouses in Los Angeles, but he was afraid to go to them, lest someone from school see him and have him expelled.  So one weekend he and a friend went to a bathhouse in Tijuana, a seedy affair with musty showers, damp corridors, and leering drug-addled downlow men.

Will recognized Peter Fonda immediately.  He didn't find him particularly attractive: pushing 40, tall and thin, with a receding hairline, a long face, and a Tom Selleck moustache.  But who would turn down the chance to trick with Captain America of Easy Rider, whose homoerotic buddy-bonding gave the 11-year old Will his first glimpse of gay potential?

They went back to his room and collapsed onto the seedy, stained mattress, fondling but not kissing.  Peter went down on Will, but he was too star-struck and couldn't concentrate enough to get aroused.  After awhile, he gave up and moved to go down on Peter.



 Peter was enormous beneath the belt, a good 9", and thick as a beer can.  Will could only manage to get his mouth around the head; the shaft took two hands.  Still, Peter was impressed, groaning, whispering "Oh, yeah, that's great!  Feels great!"

He finished with a monumental spurt and, sweating and out of breath, drew Will into a hug -- still no kissing.  "That was outta sight!  Do you live in L.A.? If you have a place where we could crash, we could make this a regular thing."

"Sure, I have a place," Will said, thinking of his dorm room.  He could put a tie on the door handle to signal to his roommate that he was having a "girl" over.

"But don't tell your friends about me, ok?  I have a reputation of being a macho action hero, and I don't need any rumors ruining it."

"Ok."

Peter wrote his telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Will, then dressed and left.

West Hollywood, April 1993

"I felt like I should call, just because he was such a big star," Will says.  "But he wasn't that cute, and he wasn't that good in bed, so I gave it a miss.  I'm probably the only guy in history to dump a celebrity after the first date."

"No, I've done that, too,"  I say.

"See?  Not nearly as interesting as Keanu Reeves.  The only interesting part was his 9", and I've been with bigger guys since."

Will gets his invitation to the Passover seder.  The Fondas don't come, but Lane gives him Peter's address and telephone number from Rosa's address book.   I don't know what happened after that.

Was Will telling the truth?

1. Most celebrity dating and hookup stories make the the celebrity gorgeous, and the sex energetic and passionate.  Making Peter unattractive and the sex mediocre gives Will's story a ring of truth.

2. But being starstruck over Peter Fonda rings false.  He's not a big star.  During the 1970s and 1980s he starred mostly in car-chase actioners like Race with the Devil and The Cannonball Run.  In 1978 his only movie role was High Ballin', a Canadian attempt to cash in on the trucker craze, with Peter driving, brawling, and picking up a girl conveniently named Pickup.

3. Peter has been married to women three times, and has two children, Justin and Bridget.  He was with his second wife, Portia, from 1975 to 2011.

4. He's a gay ally.  He claims that he chose a black motorcycle jacket for Easy Rider to become an icon in the gay community.

See also: Will and Scott Have a Wild Night with Keanu Reeves; 21 Surprising Facts About Lane

L

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...