My New Year's Eve Sex Party with the College Track Star

Indianapolis, December 2016

I had been looking at pictures like the one below, and reading sext messages, for three months, ever since I met Ryan H., the college track star, in a diner in small-town Illinois.  Finally, just before Christmas, I drove into Champaign, and he took me out on a date, which involved meeting his parents, a wrestling meet, a mediocre dinner, hanging out with his friend, but NO SEX.

Three months of anticipation, and I didn't even get to go down on him!

Ryan asked me out on a second date, to a "21 and Under" pizza party in Indianapolis on New Year's Eve.

I never go out on New Year's Eve.

I definitely didn't want to go to a teenage party at age 56.

And I DEFINITELY definitely didn't want to go to a teenage party that results in nothing more intimate than a kiss on the doorstep.

But take a look at that combination of face, physique, and Mortadella+!  Maybe there's some way  I can talk the conservative Ryan H. into dropping his drawers.

I texted him and offered to take him to a "Real West Hollywood-style Gay Party" on New Year's Eve.



"I've never been to a party with all gay guys before," Ryan said.  "Sounds exciting, but I'm also a little nervous.  There won't be any drugs, will there?"

"No drinking, no drugs, just some desserts and party games."

Now I just had to arrange the party.

I asked Tyler to be the host.  He's the "son" of my ex-boyfriend Fred (actually the son of his roommate): a chef, 33 years old, very tall, with a tight physique, curly black hair, a scrubby beard, a hairy chest, and a cut Bratwurst+.

I contacted the other two gay guys I knew in Indianapolis, Ryan the museum guard and Simon the church organist, but they were both busy.

 "I'll take care of the party guests," Tyler offered.  But by December 28th, he had managed to get solid commitments from only two of his ex-boyfriends (Jesse and Sandoval), both bears in their 50s.

Tyler likes them older.

Five guys is enough for a West Hollywood-style party, but there should be a mix of sizes, shapes, and ages.  Ryan H., at age 19, would be the youngest guy there by over a decade.  I needed to get someone close to his own age.

Fortunately, I'm a twink magnet.  On December 28th, I got cruised by the waiter in a crazy retro restaurant: Mike, age 23, medium height, on the thin side, with a round face, heavy eyebrows, and short brown hair (top photo).  We went out on the 29th (oral bottom), and I invited him to the party.

That made six, a perfect number.

Most West Hollywood Parties begin at 6:00, but since it was New Year's Eve and we would be up until midnight, I picked up Ryan H. at the Sheraton at 7:00 pm, shook hands with his parents, and kissed and groped him in the elevator on the way down to the lobby.  Then we drove to Tyler's apartment.

Pre-Dinner Conversation

The usual coming out stories, dates from hell, enormous penises, and celebrity hookups.  I told about my date with Michael J. Fox, which impressed the older guys but not Ryan -- he looked away.  I started telling about my hookup with Justin, the supersized guy at the gym, but stopped when Ryan picked up a magazine.  Bored? Embarrassed?

This was the guy who had been sending me nude selfies for three months.

Dinner

Tyler served a traditional Greek New Year's Eve dinner: a lamb-macaroni dish, a cabbage salad, and vasilopita  There was wine, but Ryan, Mike, and I drank Diet Coke.  Then he passed out bowls of green grapes.

"Have a mouthful of grapes when the clock strikes midnight," he said, "For good luck in the coming year."

"What if my mouth is already full?" I asked, looking at Ryan.  He looked away.

Embarrassed?  Was I doing something wrong?

The Entertainment

We played Gay Trivial Pursuit, in teams: Ryan and Mike, and Tyler and his bear friends.  I was the moderator.   In what year was Stonewall?  What gay-themed movie won the best picture Oscar in 1982?  What was the name of the first gay character on prime time tv?  Which famous American writer was gay?

Tyler's team won easily.  Ryan and Mike belonged to the post-gay generation, with mostly straight friends and little knowledge of their history and culture.

The "Guess the Sausage" Contest

Here's where things would get erotic.  Everybody had to go into the bathroom and snap a picture of their penis, flaccid, then text it to Tyler, who printed them out.

The one who guessed all five correctly got to spend 10 minutes alone in the bedroom with the guy of his choice.

It's not easy, even if you've been with the guy before. I had been with Mike and Tyler, and I had no trouble guessing Ryan's gigantic Mortadella+, but I got the two bears mixed up.

But Tyler got them all right, and chose to go into the bedroom with -- me!

I dutifully followed him into the bedroom.

"Why me?"  I asked.  "I'm staying here!  We had sex this morning!"

"I know.  Why do you think I want some more?"  He pushed me to my knees.

"Ok, but we need to do another penis contest.  I want to get with Ryan before the night's over."

"Sure, sure."  He unzipped.   I shrugged and went down on him.

When we returned, Ryan was glaring at me.  Had I done something wrong?

The Arousal Contest

For this contest, everybody had to get naked and stand still.  The first person to get fully aroused without touching himself or being touched by anyone else won, and could ask anyone he wanted to go down on him.

Older guys and guys who are well hung don't get fully aroused easily, but Mike the Waiter sprang to life immediately. And chose -- me!

"You've already been with me," I protested.  "Are you sure you don't want one of these other guys instead?"

"I made my choice," Mike said, grinning.  "Rules are rules."

I dutifully followed him into the bedroom, where we kissed and fondled, and he went down on me.

Auld Lange Syne

By this time it was nearly midnight, so we gathered around the tv, still naked, to watch the ball drop on Time Square.  I sat on the couch between to Ryan H. and Jesse the Bear.  At the stroke of midnight, I grabbed Ryan and kissed him and fondled his Mortadella+.  He smiled, pushed me away, and started eating his grapes.

"Grapes for luck in the New Year."

"Right.  I should eat my grapes, too.  I wonder where..."

At that moment, Jesse enveloped me in a hug and kissed me.  He was a good kisser, and I became aroused.  I felt someone go down on me -- Ryan, probably.

No, it was the other bear, Sandoval.

Sharing

Desperate, I pushed his head away.  "Ok, time for the sharing," I said.  "Ryan, you and me, and who wants to join us?  Mike?"

"Actually, I'm a little tired," Ryan said.  He was pulling on his pants. "It's been a fun party, but I'd like to go home now, if that's ok?"

"Um...sure.  Just let me get dressed, and I'll drive you back to the Sheraton."

"The downtown Sheraton?"  Sandoval asked.  "Jesse and I are going that way.  We'll be happy to drop you off."

A few minutes later, Ryan H. was gone, along with the bears, leaving me alone with Tyler and Mike.

Mike grinned.  "About that sharing..."

I wasn't really in the mood, but I dutifully went down on Tyler while Mike was going down on me, then bottomed for interfemoral -- Mike on top of me with his cock between my legs, and Tyler topping him.

But all the time, I was thinking of Ryan H., the college track star who I somehow managed to offend.

He unfriended me on Facebook, and he hasn't responded to my texts since that night.

See also: My Christmas Date with the College Track Star.; I Spend the Night with Fred's Son; Cruised by the Waiter in a Crazy Retro Restaurant

Jerzy Has 24 Hours to Pick Up a Twink

West Hollywood, August 2017

I'm back in California for a week to visit my old friends and old haunts, staying in West Hollywood with Infinite Chazz.  We're having dinner at Sammy's Thai restaurant on Santa Monica: Chazz, Will the Bondage Boy, Lane, and their partners, plus two other guys.  Most of us are over 50.  Lane and Ben's friend Jerzy is the youngest one there: he just turned 40 a couple of days ago.

Jerzy immigrated from Poland with his parents and baby sister when he was eight years old, went to Cal State Los Angeles and now works in an office down in Lakewood .  He's tall and big-boned, with a rugged face and a severe military haircut, his muscular physique going to fat.  I haven't seen his penis.

We start talking about the problems of being a twink magnet, being approached by young guys constantly, having every hookup turn into a romantic date, being forced into the role of anal top whether you'd much rather be an oral bottom.

"I call b.s.!" Jerzy exclaims.  "Gay culture values youth -- when you turn 40, you're over the hill.  Certainly the twinks don't start lining up to get into your bed!"

"How do you explain my dating a 19-year old college student?" I ask.

"You're a professor, around college students all the time, so what else are you going to meet?"

"I met him at the dentist's office."


 "Expectations.  You think young guys are going to be interested, so you remember the one exception, and forget about the 99% that don't cruise you back."

"Ok, but...I picked up young guys at a restaurant, at the comic book store, at the grocery store, at Lane and Ben's wedding...."

"Well...you live on the Plains, where everybody is El Tubbo.  In L.A. the competition is fierce."

"I get cruised by twinks all the time, too," Chazz says.  "You can't get away from them."

"That doesn't prove anything.  You're Infinite Chazz.  Everybody is interested in you."

"Me, too," Will adds.  "I'm a bondage bottom, but they keep saying 'f** me, Daddy.'"

"You just haven't tried," I say.  "I guarantee that if you went to a twink bar or gym, or LGBT youth center, you'd be getting a phone number a minute."

"Yeah, right," Jerzy says.  "And I guarantee that if you went to a twink bar or gym, you'd die of frostbite from all the shade they'd be throwing."

"That sounds like a challenge."

Chazz smiles.  "How about this: I'll bet that Jerzy can find a guy under age 25  --- no, under 21 -- in the next 24 hours.  At the gym, at the Rage, on Grindr, whatever.  All you have to do is get his phone number."

"What do i get if I succeed?"

"I know you're the world's biggest oral bottom.  We'll meet at my apartment tomorrow night, and if you can prove that you got the phone number of a guy under 21, you can go down on each of us, one at a time -- and let me tell you, there are some massive cocks in this group.  But if you fail, you have to top one of us, whichever asks.  Ok, guys?"

Lane and Ben bow out, but the other guys agree.

Jerzy grins.  "Six cocks just for getting a twink's phone number.  How can I say no?"



Wednesday Night

Chazz offers to let Jerzy spend the night, so he won't have to drive all the way back to Lakewood.  After dinner the three of us hit the Rage, the biggest twink bar in West Hollywood.  Naturally, two guys in their 40s and one who's 56 are ignored by the munchkins buzzing about on the dance floor.

Next we go to the Faultline, the leather/bear bar where Lane and I used to spend many Sunday afternoons.  Not very crowded on a Wednesday night, and the guys there are mostly aging, seasoned leathermen.  I do manage to get cruised by an 20-ish otter, a young, thin guy with a hairy chest.  We make out for awhile, and he gives me his number.  But that's my pickup; Jerzy is mostly ignored.

When we get back to Chazz's apartment, we have a three-way.  Jerzy is good at kissing and very well hung, with a thick uncut Kielbasa.  Chazz and I both go down him, but we won't let him go down on us.

"That's for tomorrow night," Chazz says.  "If you can overcome your aging guilt enough to cruise a twink."

"What you need is a place to show off your muscles," I tell him.  We'll get up at 6:00 and hit the gay gym."


Thursday

Unfortunately, the gay gym is a little short on twinks at 6:30 am.

"Well, where do you go to meet the young guys?" Jerzy asks.

"Everywhere.  Today I was going to go to the Getty Museum, UCLA, and the Santa Monica Pier.  I'm bound to get cruised by a few guys there."

"Ok...I'll take off work today, and go with you.  We'll get the phone numbers of ten Cute Young Things before lunch."

At the Getty Museum, I am cruised by a high school boy on a field trip, but I don't get his phone number.  Jerzy is ignored.

Classes haven't started at UCLA yet, so there aren't many students around, but a cute blond in a UCLA t-shirt strikes up a conversation in the library.  He thinks Jerzy and I are gay dads checking out the campus for their kid.  When he discovers that I'm visiting from the Plains, he offers to take me on an "insider's tour" of Hollywood tomorrow.  Jerzy is ignored.

At lunch, the waiter cruises me.  Jerzy is ignored.

At the Santa Monica Pier, a skateboarding teenager almost runs into us.  In the ensuing conversation, I try to act as Jerzy's wingman, praising him to the hilt.  The skateboarder ignores him.

It's 4:00 pm.  We're suppose to meet at Chazz's apartment in three hours.

"How about a tea-dance at the Toy Tiger?" I suggest.  The bar where every boy is available, for a price.

"No hustlers.  That wouldn't be honest," Jerzy says.  "But I have one more place in mind.  Let me drop you off at Chazz's apartment.  I'l be back at 7:00 pm."

Thursday Night

Six guys gather at Chazz's apartment for snacks and sodas.  Stonewall is playing on tv.   We talk about life on the Plains, how West Hollywood has changed, and the current fascist government, and check the time, waiting for Jerzy to show up.  I tell them about our tour of Los Angeles, and his constantly striking out.  We have no doubt that he will strike out again on his last attempt, and show up empty-handed, and have to act as an anal top instead of an oral bottom.

Then there's a knock on the door.  Jerzy comes in -- with a kid.

A literal kid!  Preteen, maybe ten years old.

Our jaws drop in shock.

"Guys, this is Hunter, my sister's son.  I wanted to stop in and introduce him to all of my friends, and show you the smartphone I bought him.  By the way, I'm the first one he gave his number to."

Hunter politely shakes hands with each of us, and then demonstrates the features of his new phone.

"Ok, we're off for ice cream."  Jerzy grins.  "I'll be back later, after I take Hunter home, to collect my prize."

The deal was: the phone number of a guy under 21.  We never said that it had to be for a date.

See also: How to Attract Twinks