Ryan's Three-Way with Harry Styles

Plains, October 2016

In search of celebrity dating and hookup stories, I've been asking all the gay men I know, with little luck.  But I got a good one last night, from of all places, Ryan H., the college track star I met two weeks ago while driving through small-town Illinois on the way back from a funeral.

Last night we were chatting on Facebook's instant messenger:

Ryan:  I have one for you.  Me and Harry Styles.

Me: For real, or a fantasy?  

Ryan:  Real.  Summer before last.

I quickly wikipedia Harry Styles.  Born 1994, member of the boy band One Direction from 2011 to 2015, five albums, five Brit Awards and four MTV Music Video Awards, "Live While We're Young" hit #3 on the U.S. charts, and "Best Song Ever" #2.  Just signed with Columbia as a solo artist.  

Google images shows Harry at several points in his life.  Rather cute in One Direction, but now he has androgynous long hair and a body-full of gross tattoos.


Me: So summer of 2015.  You were...17?  

Ryan:  Right.  Just after my junior year in high school.

Me: So how did you meet Harry Styles in your small town in Illinois?

Ryan: No, LOL, it was in Indianapolis [two hours away].  My family goes down for the weekend several times a year.  We go to a Pacers game or a concert, go to the Children's Museum, that sort of thing.  Well, this time my friend Sam came along, and there were so many of us that we got our own hotel room.

Me:  Were you and Sam a couple?

Ryan: Sam?  LOL.  He's a year younger than me, and straight!  I just like older guys.  But he's a sweetheart, my cuddly bae.  So we had it all planned out.  After they were all in bed, I snuck out -- Sam covered for me, right -- and I walked about seven blocks to the Metro [a gay club on Massachusetts Avenue].

Me:  You got in ok?

Ryan:  I had a fake id, and besides, look at me!  I've been flashing a smile to get whatever I want since I was little.

Me:  Well, you are rather cute.

Ryan: Def!  So I'm into silver foxes, hot ones like you, and this one really hot guy piques my interest -- in his fifties, tall distinguished, white hair and beard, nice muscular chest.  But he's already hitting on this cute, long-haired twink.  I don't care -- I go up and flash my smile anyway.

Me: Planning to steal the Silver Fox away?

Ryan: I don't know.  I thought maybe a three-some -- I never had one of those before. So I flash my smile, and Silver Fox gets that dopey grin -- the one you got when you saw me, right?  And the guy he's with looks a little jealous.  And I see it's Harry Styles from One Direction.  I was never a big fan, but every girl in school was into him, so I recognized him instantly.

Me: What was Harry Styles doing in Indianapolis?

Ryan:  I didn't ask.  I pretended I didn't even know who he was.

[A quick look at One Directions' website reveals a concert in Indianapolis on July 31st, 2015.]

Me: Did Silver Fox invite the two of you home?

Ryan:  We went to the Sheraton -- the same hotel my family was staying in!  So we waste no time -- the minute we get inside, Silver Fox and Harry start kissing.  I unzip Silver Fox and -- OMFG!  #Hung to his knees  #Super-stud.  Almost as big as you.  Can I see a cock pic?

[I send him one.]

Ryan:  Hot!  So I go down on the Silver Fox -- I'm really, really good at oral, by the way.  My mouth and tongue are legendary.  I unzip Harry, too, and go down on him to be polite.

Me:  How big was Harry?

Ryan: Kind of small, but nice anyway.  Very firm.  When you tell the story, make him a Mortadella, ok?

Me:  Ok.

[This bulge pic suggests a probable Bratwurst]

Ryan: Anyway, I decide I want some kissing action -- so I stand up and try to kiss them both at the same time, you know.  But they ignore me, strip off their clothes, and Daddy turns Harry over onto his stomach and starts topping him.  I take off my clothes and sort of hang around.  Daddy reaches out and gives me a feel.  Come on, I have the biggest cock in Champaign County.  I deserve more than that!

Me: Then what happened?

Ryan: I kind of kneel over Harry, and he tries to go down on me.  But it's a weird position, and he gags.  So I kiss him while he's being topped by the Silver Fox.  Really nice, by the way.  Are you into kissing?

Me: Sure, I love kissing.

Ryan: I can't wait until Christmas.  I want to spend Christmas Eve on the couch with you, wearing fuzzy sweaters, drinking eggnog and cuddling and kissing.

Me: Sounds great.  So, what happened next?

Ryan:  Nothing much.  I kind of crawled under Harry and went down on him while he was being topped. Then Daddy finishes with a gigantic roar and goes into the bathroom to wipe off.  I keep going down on Harry, but he pushes me away and goes into the bathroom, too.  I figure he's going to pee and will be back in a few minutes.  Then I hear the shower going -- Silver Fox and Harry are taking a shower together, leaving me alone on the bed, aroused, all by myself!

Me: Not cool.

Ryan:  I mean, I think I'm pretty hot, don't you?  And I have a gigantic cock.  Why weren't they into me?

Me: I don't know.  I'm into you.

Ryan: So I got out of there and went down to the fifth floor to my room, and sort of started crying in Sam's arms. #Miserable.  #Jealous.

Me: Not a positive experience?

Ryan:  Not at all!  I'd rather have the guy all to myself.  I want to take my time, kiss him, fondle him, get to know him.  And cuddle!  If you don't spend the night, what's the point?

Me:  I hear that.

Ryan: I can't wait until Christmas.  There'll be a package for you to open under the tree.  [Sends me a selfie, aroused.]

Was Ryan telling the truth?

Harry Styles was in Indianapolis in the summer of 2015, and he has been the subject of gay rumors, but there's no evidence that he's into older guys, or is in the habit of hooking up with random strangers in bars.

Ryan's story was obviously a cautionary tale about what to do and not to do on our upcoming Christmas date, and an attempt to pique my interest with references to his penis size, proficiency at oral sex, and attractiveness to men.  But he could have used any sexual experience -- why invent a liaison with Harry Styles, who I don't find attractive in the least?

Unless he really did have a three way with Harry Styles and a Silver Fox the summer after his junior year in high school.

See also: Picking Up a College Track Star; West Hollywood Stories of Dating and Hookups with Celebrities; My Christmas Date with the College Track Star.

Oliver Hooks Up with Andy Taylor and Opie

West Hollywood, September 1985

I've been in California for only a couple of months, but I'm completely star struck!  I've met a dozen gay or gay-friendly stars --  Michael J. Fox, Scott Valentine, Robin Williams, Dean Paul Martin, Chris Makepeace -- I can't even keep track  -- and heard about a lot more.

I'm asking every guy I meet about the celebrities they dated or tricked with.  Sylvester Stallone, Scott Baio, Rob Lowe, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Ted Danson...I could write a book!

It's the morning after my date with Artie, a chubby older guy with weird rings and gold chains around his neck, reeking of cologne -- not at all my type.  I just accepted the date because I thought he would have a lot of celebrity dating stories (he didn't).

While Artie is frying bacon and eggs, his roommate comes out of the bedroom.  Naked.

A black guy in his mid-30s, slim, short black hair, round face, bleary-eyed.  His thin Kielbasa+ semi-aroused!

I'm not used to seeing naked roommates, especially ones who are cuter than the guy I'm on a date with, and I flash him a cruisy smile.  Artie notices and frowns with obvious jealousy.

"Boomer, this is Oliver.  He was just leaving."

"Pleased to meet cha," Oliver says.  He crosses over to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee, then sits at the table, his knee "accidentally" pressing against mine.  "Are you in the business?  I'm an agent -- Cloris Leachman is one of my clients.  I definitely could get you some work."

Before I can answer, Artie brings over the bacon and eggs on a plate and squeezes in between us, trying to defuse the cruise.  "Boomer's studying Renaissance Italian at USC,  He can speak five languages.  He's not into anything so low-brow as movies."

 "Actually, we were just talking about celebrity dating stories," I tell him.  "You must have some good stories."

"I'm afraid Oliver doesn't have time to..."

"I got plenty of time, bro."  He thinks for a moment.  "How about this one: the very first big stars I ever got down my throat.  Andy Griffith."

"No way!" I exclaim.  Not The countrified hick of No Time for Sergeants!  The harbinger of conservative American "just plain folks" values on The Andy Griffith Show, about a small-town Southern sheriff in the days when folk loved Law and Order just as much as Aunt Bee's prize-winning apple pie!

"Please!" Artie exclaims.  "He trained to become a Moravian minister, and released an album of Country Gospel songs.  No way he's gay!"

"Well, maybe not gay for white boys, but definitely into dark meat."

Hollywood, September 1970

Oliver wanted to be a dancer as long as he could remember.  When he was only fifteen, he was dancing on American Bandstand and on The Swinging Times Review at the Palm Theater in Detroit.  After high school, he enrolled in the Dayton Dance Academy, but after a year he dropped out and moved to Hollywood, where he crashed with a friend and made the rounds of auditions.

In the summer of 1970, his lithe physique landed him a walk-on role on The Headmaster (1970-1971), with 44-year old Andy Griffith trying to escape country-hick typecasting by playing the headmaster of an elite private school in California.  Oliver played a track star who jostled his buddy and said something like "Dig the cool cat."

Just one line in an annoying jive -- did the writers really think that Afro-Americans talked like Sambo? -- and Andy Griffith wasn't even in the scene.  But Oliver saw him watching all during the taping, and figured he must be doing something right.

Sure enough, he was immediately cast in the next episode, as Normie in "The Experiment."  This time he had a whole conversation with the Headmaster, and a hand-on-shoulder moment that, for some reason, took a dozen takes -- Andy kept flubbing his lines and laughing.

The next day Andy called Oliver's agent and asked him to come to his house to discuss "making Normie an ongoing character."

This was rather unusual, but he figured, big stars are eccentric.  And he had the chance to play an ongoing character in a show that was sure to run for years!  So on Saturday he drove out to the house in Beverly Hills.

Andy answered the door in a swim suit  -- not very attractive, old and out of shape -- and escorted Oliver out to the pool.  "Feel free to take a dip," he offered.

"I didn't bring my swim suit."

"That's ok, the neighbors can't see anything.  Here, I'll show you."  He ripped off his swimsuit and dove into the pool.

"How big was he?" I ask.

"Kind of small.  For some reason, the bigger the star, the smaller the dick.  You ever notice that?"

Oliver stood and watched while Andy did a few strokes, then climbed out of the pool and sat on a cabana couch.  "I have some nice old Scotch, if you're interested."  He patted the seat next to him.

Suddenly Oliver realized that this was a casting couch.  He had nothing against going down on guys to further his career -- in fact, it was one of the perks of auditioning!  But an old, out of shape guy who was not his type at all, and didn't even have a very big cock....

The doorbell rang, and Andy said "Excuse me" and put a bathrobe on to answer it.  Oliver heard voices from inside the house -- "No, Barbara moved back to Anaheim, and took the kids with her.  It looks like this might be the end of it..."

Then Andy came out with Ron Howard, the 18-year old actor who played his son Opie on The Andy Griffith Show, and would go on to Happy Days and a career in directing.

"Um...This is the Oliver.  I'm thinking of making him a permanent cast member of The Headmaster.  Oliver, meet Ronnie Howard."

Oliver stood up to shake his hand.  Now this was a casting couch he could support!  Ron was tall and goodlooking, with broad shoulders and an impish smile.

"We were just going into the pool," Oliver said.  "Do you want to join us?"

Ron grinned.  "You're pretty eager, aren't you?"

"Well, it's a hot day."

"Well, I suppose I could use a dip," Ron said, ignoring Andy's "cut it" motions.  He took off his shirt -- not muscular, but solid, with a thick chest and a little hair on his belly.  Then he saw Oliver watching and slowly lowered his pants.

A huge, thick, uncut Kielbasa!

Oliver didn't even wait for an invitation.  He fell to his knees and went down on Ron, squeezing his legs and butt and balls while the instantly-aroused cock slammed against his throat.  He became aroused himself, and started beating off while sucking.

After a few moments, Andy said "Ahem.  Whose party is this?"  Oliver looked up to see Andy beside them, naked, playing with his own cock.

Oliver politely leaned over and went down on him for a few minutes before returning to Ron, who spurted down his throat with a monumental "Yeah!"  Then: "That was outta sight!  You should give up acting and make that your career."

Smiling, Oliver stood and tried to push Ron down on his knees to reciprocate, but he refused:  "We should be polite.  This looks like a job for Super-Andy!"

But Andy was walking into the house.

"Want some of this action?" Oliver called.

He didn't turn back.  "Not my style, boys.  But you go ahead.  Let yourselves out when you're done."

Of course, Oliver didn't get the job -- but The Headmaster folded after half a season anyway. He dated Ron Howard a few times, but seeing a teenager was just too difficult, so he called it quits.  After a few years of making the rounds, being cast as Black Thug #2 a lot, Oliver became an agent and publicist.

West Hollywood, September 1985

"Why didn't you say this was a story about Ron Howard?"  I ask.  "He's the one you actually dated."

"Just goes to show," Oliver says, reaching around his roommate to squeeze me on the shoulder, "That what you came for isn't necessarily what you gonna get."

Was Oliver Telling the Truth?

Andy Griffith was starring in The Headmaster in 1970, and there's an Oliver listed in the cast in two episodes. His wife Barbara would divorce him in 1972.   He played a gay character later in his career, and he joked that he and Don Knotts were so close, "You'd think we were gay."

In September 1970 Ron Howard was 16, not 18, and he seems rather homophobic, peppering his movies with heteronormativity and erasing gay characters.  In 2010 he got in trouble for putting a homophobic joke in The Dilemma.

I can see Andy Griffith having an interest in black men, the "forbidden fruit" to someone who grew up in the segregated South.  But I think Oliver made up Ron Howard to create a parallel with our own situation, on a date with an older guy when a younger, more attractive one wants in.

By the way, nothing happened between me and Oliver.

See also:Looking for Muscles on the Andy Griffith Show

Three Guys in My Bed in Baltimore

Baltimore, November 2015

People think that professional conferences are about getting drunk and having orgies, but in fact you're very busy with presentations, meetings, book sessions, and a little sightseeing, so there isn't much time left for bars and boys.

When I was in Baltimore in the fall of 2015, I was staying right in the conference hotel.  What would be easier than bringing somebody up during my hour or two between sessions, or in the evening?

Easier said than done.

Friday night, the last night of my trip.

6:00 pm: I go on Grindr.  Back home I get inundated with hookup requests within minutes.  Here, nothing.

6:15 pm.  I take a new shirtless photo to post.  Maybe that will help.

6:30  I go on Scruff, Adam4Adam, and Hornet.

6:45 pm.  Guys start to approach me, but they're not visitors staying in any of the dozen hotels in the area.  They're all locals.

7:30 pm.  I settle on Alix, age 35, slim, Asian, in the medical profession, with a very provocative selfie.  He lives in Cold Springs, about six miles away, so it will take about half an hour to get here.

8:00 pm.  In this hotel, you have to have a guest room key card to go up the elevator.  So we agree that Alix will text me when he arrives, and I'll go down and get him.

8:15 pm.  I'm still waiting.  While I wait, I chat with other guys.



8:30 pm.  I go downstairs and look.   I text him "Ok, you're a no show."

I invite another guy on my list. Rob, also in his 30s, bearded, hairy, muscular, Middle Eastern-looking, with a job in finance and another very provocative selfie.

"I live in Glen Burnie, about 10 miles away," Rob says.  "So, with traffic and parking, plan on it taking an hour for me to get there."

"Great!  I'll see you at 9:30 pm."

8:45 pm.  Alix texts.  He's downstairs.  He was delayed.

What do I do now?  Cancel with Alix?  He's already here. Cancel with Rob?  He's on the way. 

I go down and get Alix, hoping for a quick, half hour hookup, and out the door before Rob arrived.

Alix has a nice physique and an exceptionally large Kielbasa beneath the belt, but he doesn't want to kiss or do oral.  He wants to top me, but I don't have any condoms.  So I go down on him, while he moans "I want to f*** you, I want to f**** you."

9:15 pm.  We're finished.  He holds me in his arms so tightly that it hurts, and starts talking.

How can I get him out of here?

At that moment, Rob texts.  "Traffic was light.  I'm in the lobby."

Embarrassed, I tell Alix, "I thought you were a no-show, so I invited another guy over."

He says, "Well, invite him up! The more the merrier."

I go into the lobby, pick up Rob, and bring him upstairs.  I tell him, "Pay no attention to the naked man in the bed."

"Oh, is this your roommate?" Rob asks.

"Hookup from earlier in the evening," I admit.  "But I'll kick him out if you'd rather have a one-on-one."

He looks at Alix.  Alix smiles.

"No, this is fine."  He quickly takes off his clothes, climbs onto the bed, and takes Alix in his arms.

Wait, Alix didn't want to kiss me, but he'll kiss Rob?

I go down on Rob while they're busy.  Alix murmurs "I want to f*** you, I want to f**** you."

Fortunately, Rob brought condoms.

At least I get to kiss Rob while Alix is working.

Afterwards they seem to fall asleep in each other's arms.  At least I get some cuddling.

10: 30 pm.  I can't have two strangers spending the night!

I wake them up.  "Um...it's been fun, but one of you has to leave."

They both get dressed and leave.  Together.

Which, I suppose, make sense.  Alix and Rob live close enough to date, whereas I'm getting on a plane tomorrow and flying away.

Still, I hadn't planned to be a match-maker!  Besides, I didn't get a chance to do much.  I'm still in the mood.

It's against the rules of cruising to hook up with more than one guy in an evening, but....

10:45 pm.  I invite a third guy over.  Christian, a Johns Hopkins student, 20 years old, with an athletic physique, and again, a very nice selfie.  Looks like he has a Kielbasa beneath the belt -- they make them big in Baltimore.

Just as we finalize the hookup, he says  "Do you mind if I bring my boyfriend?  He's into older guys, too."

See also: The 20 Most Beautiful Men in the World; My Most Embarrassing Hookup; My Saturday Night Special

Five Celebrity Hookups from Hell

I moved to West Hollywood in 1985 after a childhood of seeing no famous people in real life except for Jonathan Frid (Barnabas on Dark Shadows), former Tarzan Jock Mahoney, and the King of Sweden, so I became a veritable celebrity fetishist.  If I saw you on tv, I wanted to date you (or, after I moved in with Lane in 1990, hook up with you).

In part it was due to envy: my friends were all apparently giving blow jobs to Sylvester Stallone, making out with Rob Lowe, getting tied up by Keanu Reeves, and after a year, all I could brag about were Lee H. Montgomery and Douglas Barr, plus a hug from Michael J. Fox.  

I was meeting -- or seeing -- tv stars quite often, but none of them seemed interested in dating.  So I made the rounds of the lesser known and downright obscure, hoping that the guy I dated last night would make it big, and I could say "I went down on him back when."  Sometimes it worked out ok, and I got a nice romantic evening, a blow job, a sausage sighting, or at least lunch.

Sometimes it was regrettable, to say the least.

Here are five celebrity hookups from hell.  I'm sure that these actors are very nice, and some people no doubt find them hot, but for whatever reason our time together ranged from dismal to "get me out of here!"


1. James Faulkner, Herod in the I, Claudius miniseries (1976) and Aldous Huxley in Priest of Love (1981).  Not at all my type: bald, pale, chunky, small beneath the belt, and sharing a last name with my least favorite author.

To be fair, he wasn't my hookup, he was Lane's.  We met him at a leather bar in London in 1993, and brought him back to our hotel, where wee discovered that he was into wet, sloppy kisses and the biting of nipples.













2. Cain Devore starred with John Stamos in the short-lived comedy Dreams (1984-85), and I guess did some soap work after.  Not my usual type: skinny, frizzy dirty blond hair, very tan, but cute in a rockster-Bohemian way.  Alan and I picked him up at Mugi in 1986 and brought him home, but he was too drunk to rise to the occasion.

3. I had never actually seen Howard E. Rollins, Jr. in anything when Lane and I met him at an AIDS benefit in 1995. He told us about his work in The Heat of the Night (1988-94), but not that he had 3 DUIs and a cocaine problem, or that he was in rehab.  Very well hung, but an anal bottom.  Neither of us were into that, so we just kind of beat off.

4. Which of the stars of The Incredible Hulk (1978-1982) would you like to go down on?  Lou Ferrigno?  Bill Bixby?  How about Jack Colvin, who played the sleazy reporter on the Hulk's trail?  Nondescript physique, weasel face, small cock, and he didn't stick around for breakfast.
















5. At least Georg Olden was cute.  He was starring in Rocky Road (1985-87) about three siblings who run an ice cream parlor on Pismo Beach, when I saw him at a Greek restaurant in Hollywood -- while I was on a date with someone else!  He was only 18, still going to Beverly Hills High, and I was not yet a twink magnet, so I had no way to attract his attention.  I made a complete fool of myself, and lost both guys.

David Hooks Up with the Bible Boy of Castro Street

San Francisco, June 1996

I'm starting a new part-time job at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation.  During my all-day orientation, I meet a newcomer to the City, David:

Older than me, balding, handsome, with a bright open preacher's face. Rather buffed, with a thick neck, thick arms and a furry barrel chest.  That aggressively friendly, ever-cheerful "How are ya!"  manner that you see with guys whose jobs require you to like them.

He tells us that six months ago, he was a conservative Baptist minister in Arkansas, married with children.  Then, on his 43rd birthday, he came out.  He had his first same-sex experience, divorced his wife, read a lot of pro-gay books, and moved to San Francisco.

He has moved into an apartment in the Castro with another ex-Baptist minister, joined a gym, and found a (full time) job at the AIDS Foundation.  Now he's anxious to try everything the gay world has to offer, especially the sex.

"No sex for the first 43 years of my life!" he exclaims.  "Unless you count my ex-wife.  Just fantasies.  I have to get up to speed.   I bet I can get with a thousand guys in the next year, three a day, if I work at it."

He glances at the concerned faces of the other employees of the AIDS Foundation.  "What?  I'll be safe, of course.  I carry a package of condoms with me at all times."

After orientation David and I take the Muni to Castro Street for dinner.  We bond over tales of childhood deprivations and crazy fundamentalist relatives -- and hot men.  He is relishing his freedom to talk openly about hot guys for the first time in his life.

There's no question that we'll hook up -- that's a given.  You make new friends in San Francisco by sharing their bed. But I'm more interested in hanging out, in exploring the gay world through David's eyes.

Outside the Castro Street Station, we come across two screamers.

You see screamers frequently in gay neighborhoods, at events like Gay Pride and the AIDS Walk, or sometimes on an ordinary summer afternoon:  heteros waving signs and shouting Bible verses and generally expressing how much they hate us.

Usually they come in groups, so the sodomites won't be able to rape and murder them as easily, but today there are only two:

1. A middle aged man, slim, grey-haired, sweating in a business suit, carrying a sign that reads "Homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord," snarling and shouting invectives at the passersby:

"Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind!"

2. The Bible boy, slim and blond in a business suit, but considerably more handsome, with blue eyes and sharp features, looking down at his feet -- because he doesn't like being around sodomites, or because he doesn't like being around his dad?  He's carrying a large King James Bible.

I know the drill -- cross the street if you can.  Don't make eye contact, don't speak, don't engage with the screamers in any way.

But does David?  Will the former Baptist preacher engage?  Or will his fundamentalist brainwashing kick in, resulting in guilt, self-recrimination, and a decision to turn "ex-gay"?

I don't want to find out.  "Come on, let's go this way," I say, pulling David's arm.

"Are you kidding?  That boy is hot!"

"He's a screamer!"

David laughs.  "I hope so.  Do you like twinks?"

"Sure, but...cruising a screamer?  Are you crazy?"

"Yes.  And horny.  Do you mind if I bring in a third for tonight."

Soon I will be used to David cruising anyone, anywhere, but now I'm shocked.  A screamer, in front of his Dad!

We approach Bible Boy while the main screamer is yelling at a heterosexual couple for promoting sodomy.

David smiles and holds out his massive hand.  Bible Boy smiles shyly.  I can hear him thinking, "This isn't what a sodomite looks like!  Why isn't he wearing a dress?"

"My name is David, and this is Boomer."

"Kyle.  Have you ever heard of the Four Spiritual Laws?"

That old soulwinning routine?  I learned that in high school!

David says "ἐγὼ ἦλθον ἵνα ζωὴν ἔχωσιν καὶ περισσὸν ἔχωσιν."

Bible Boy stares.

"John 10:10: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.  B.A. in Classical Studies from the University of Arkansas, M.A. in Latin from Tulane University, M. Div. from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary."

His eyes widen.  "Wow, that's impressive.  How did you..."  He stops himself from saying "How did you sink into such unholy degradation..."

"Can you take a break?  I'll tell you all about my journey from Pine Bluff, Arkansas to Castro Street."

"Um...I don't drink."

"Do you eat hamburgers?"

He yells to the Preacher that he's going witnessing, and we go to Orphan Andy's for burgers and fries.

Kyle is 18 years old, a new high school graduate who plans to attend UC Santa Cruz next fall ("Boy, did my folks squawk about that!  A heathen college full of atheists and sodomites!")

The older guy is actually his youth minister.  There are six other members of his youth group scattered around town, brandishing signs and screaming to spread the Good News, but Kyle, a shy, sensitive, quiet boy, couldn't find a partner, so the preacher said 'Just stick by me.'"

"I wasn't even going to come.  I hate soulwinning," Kyle explains.  "But I wanted to see what real sodomites look like.  Besides, we're going to get ice cream later."

Nice youth group outing, screaming and fudge ripple!

"You don't really believe all that 'abomination in the eyes of the Lord' stuff, do you?" David asks.

"Well, I have to believe what the Lord says in His Word, even if I don't understand it.  I mean, you look at cute guys, and think, what would be wrong with touching them?  But the Lord says it's an abomination, so...."

Chuckling,  David pulls out his Greek and Hebrew and demolishes every homophobic interpretation of the "Big Five" Bible verses.  From the story of Sodom to the "strange flesh" of Jude.

We end up back at his apartment.

David and Bible Boy kiss while I go down on them at the same time.  David has a thick uncut Bratwurst+, and Bible Boy is average, cut, and ruddy.  They get into the 69 position and leave me out for awhile, but then Bible Boy goes down on me until I finish.  David pulls out a condom and introduces him to anal.

Then Bible Boy -- Kyle - dresses, thanks us both, and returns to his youth group for ice cream.

David and I look at each other.  He grins.  "I could tell he was gay from a block away.  It was just a matter of getting him away from that darned youth leader."

I am completely overwhelmed.  Even Alan was nothing like this!

"That's two guys," he says.  "My goal is three a day, so I need one more.  Want to go cruising?"

See also: David and the Homeless Teenager

Alan Hooks Up with David Ogden Stiers and Patrick Adiarte

West Hollywood, June 1985

Alan had lived in West Hollywood for seven years.  He had done the bar-and-bathhouse thing, starred in porn movies, hooked up with a dozen closet-case movie stars, turned "ex gay" due to Pentecostal guilt, and found a drag queen "fairy godmother" who helped him realize that God doesn't care who you love.

But God might disapprove of tricking -- one night stands with strangers -- and the MCC, where Alan was student clergy, definitely disapproved.

Besides, with AIDS, random sex with strangers was just too dangerous.

So Alan's sleaze days were over.  No bath houses, no t-rooms,  no picking up random guys in bars, just dating and romance.  The last thing he needed -- or wanted -- was a trick.

Especially a celebrity trick -- he had already been with more than enough closet case tv stars, thank you.

Especially two celebrity tricks.

But the guy cruising him at Mugi, the gay Asian bar, turned out to be an icon of his childhood.

Growing up in a small town in western Pennsylvania, Alan didn't see many Asian guys.  So he was enthralled by two episodes of The Brady Bunch in 1972 when the gang goes to Hawaii and meets David, played by  Filipino actor Patrick Adiarte.  He takes his shirt off a lot.

Alan also saw Adiarte playing a Korean houseboy on M*A*S*H, the drama about doctors treating wounded soldiers during the Korean war, in 1972-73, and Leonard Wong on a two-part episode of Kojak (1974).




11 years later, Adiarte hadn't changed: thick black hair, round face, tight dancer's body, very tight jeans!

Patrick's friend, a middle-aged white guy, came over to make the introduction, and they sat a table with drinks (mineral water for Alan, beer for Patrick) and had a cruising conversation.

Tall, buffed, and hung, Alan wasn't used to being treated as a Cute Young Thing. Everyone expected him to make the first move.  He wasn't used to being bought drinks and told how hot he was. But he rather enjoyed the attention.

They groped and fondled for a long time.  Alan kept waiting to be asked out on a date, but Patrick seemed content to just fondle.

10 minutes passed while Patrick flattered him and squeezed his cock under the table.  He was so aroused, it hurt!  Was Patrick planning to bring him to climax right there at Mugi?

Pushing his hand away, Alan decided to take the initiative.  "Would you like to go out to dinner tomorrow night?"

Patrick frowned.  "I don't have much time for dating.  My career keeps me very busy.  This is the first time I've ever been to Mugi, in fact."

Uh-oh: that was code for "I'm in the closet"!

"...but I'm free tonight, if you'd like to come back to my place."

 Uh-oh: that was code for "trick."

Alan had given up on tricking.  No going home with guys he had barely met, no scribbling down the wrong phone number and leaving when the sex was over.  Dating and romance only!

But one of the icons of his childhood was fondling his penis!  Alan was so turned on that he wanted to throw Patrick on the table and shove his cock down his throat right there!

Or take him into the bathroom and...

No way!

"Sure," Alan said reluctantly.  "You can come to my place.  How do you like your eggs?"

"Well -- actually I'm in town visiting a friend.  He's the one who convinced me to go out tonight. I promised him that if I tricked with anyone, he could watch. Or join in, if you're into it."

Alan didn't like two guys in one bed -- he found it distracting.  But if he refused, most likely there would be no trick tonight.  "Um...well, what does he look like?"

"I'll introduce you.  Come on."  He stood and led Alan, fully aroused and tenting, across the room to the middle-aged white guy, who was sipping on a mixed drink.

Bald -- Alan hated bald guys!

Then the guy said "Hello, I'm David," and Alan recognized him: David Ogden Stiers, the 43-year old actor who played snobbish intellectual Charles Winchester during the last few seasons of M*A*S*H.

He shook David's hand, wondering briefly how he met Patrick, when they weren't on the show at the same time.

Only briefly because David turned the handshake into a hug and a grope.  And then a kiss.

No one kissed at Mugi -- he must be a little drunk!

Raised Pentecostal, where alcohol was a major sin, Alan hated drunks!  But two guys were groping, fondling, and kissing him -- he had no choice but to let them lead him out onto the street and follow them to David's house in Westwood, near UCLA.

No drinks, no conversation -- they immediately pulled Alan into a bedroom, where Patrick immediately dropped to his knees and pulled out Alan's cock.  He went down on Alan and David at the same time while they kissed.

David was a little chunky, with a hairy chest and belly and a cut 7".  Patrick had a smooth chest with prominent nipples and about 5", uncut.

Patrick didn't take the load -- at the last moment he pulled away, so Alan spurted onto the floor.

"That's ok," David said.  "It's happened before."

Then David wanted to top Alan.  He refused, so David topped Patrick -- with a condom, of course --while Alan was going down on him.

Alan took Patrick's load.

He expected to be invited to spend the night afterwards -- even tricks didn't get kicked out into the cold California night at 2:00 am -- but no, instead of climbing into bed, they all got dressed again.

While David was in the bathroom, Patrick scribbled down a phone number.

"This has been great," he said.  "Give me a call, and the next time I'm in town we'll get together."

It turned out to be the wrong number.

Was Alan Telling the Truth?

Alan told this story several times, with some of the details changed -- sometimes it was at the Gold Coast, not Mugi, and sometimes David, not Patrick, was the oral bottom.  But the conversations, the spurting onto the carpet, and the wrong number stayed the same.

David Ogden Stiers came out in 2009. He died in 2018, at the age of 75.

Patrick Adiarte hasn't made any public statements, and I haven't found any gay rumors about him.  .  He was married to Loni Ackerman from 1975 to 1982.

See also: Alan Dates Will of "Land of the Lost"

Five Three-Ways with Kevin the Vampire

San Francisco, December 1996

Sex with Kevin the Vampire, my sort-of boyfriend in San Francisco, was exhausting.  No simple ten-minute blow job for him!  It was a long, complicated ordeal that took two hours minimum.

There was massage with weird oils.

There were ice cubes and strawberries.

His hands and mouth went everywhere, kissing and licking places that I didn't even know I had.  How did he manage to get his tongue inside my penis hole?

He would bring you close to orgasm, stop, start again, stop, start again, stop, over and over until you were begging for it.

Then, after your orgasm, he kept on going.  While you were still sensitive!

 In order to survive, I would have to find some way to dilute Kevin's sexual energy.

Tiring him out with a hard workout?  No.

Depressing him with tales of childhood homophobia?  No.

Keeping him up late?  No.

One morning over our breakfast coffee (Kevin didn't eat), I suggested bringing in a third person.

"I'm really rather monogamous," he said with a frown. "I prefer to devote my full attention to my man, as you know."

 Yes, but your full attention is exhausting!  "I like a bit of variety from time to time."

"Well, I'm perfectly agreeable to an open relationship.  You may certainly attend your Bear Parties, and go out with your friend David to cruise for Cute Young Things."

I took his hand.  "But I want the other guy to experience you in the bedroom.  Your hotness.  Your enthusiasm.  Your power."


He chuckled.  "Flattery has its uses.  By all means, then, bring on the barbarian hoards."


Three Way #1: Corbin the Gym Rat

Corbin and I worked out together and went to services at the MCC, the gay church.  He was about 10 years younger than me, tall, Mediterranean, very muscular, with a handsome face, big black eyes, aquiline nose, a prominent chin.  And a Mortadella+ beneath the belt.

After my birthday dinner in November, Kevin and I invited him home.

For four hours of hands and thighs and tongues, incense and oils, hot wax and feathers. Corbin was brought to the point of orgasm a dozen times until he was crying. Kevin allowed me to take his spurt, then turned me over on my back and told Corbin exactly how to use his mouth and tongue, what to stroke, what to lick.

It was almost dawn when I finished, and Kevin was still fully aroused!

Three Way #2: Lamar

Maybe Kevin was too attracted to Corbin to dispel his sexual energy.  Maybe if I found someone he wasn't attracted to at all?

He liked tall, broad-shouldered, muscular guys, He despised "short, fey twinks with earrings and squeaky little voices."

So I went to Twin Peaks in the Castro and picked up Lamar, a short, fey twink with a smooth, sallow chest, and long, skinny legs. We kissed and groped for awhile, and then I invited him home to meet Kevin.

I went down on him while he went down on Kevin, who finished almost immediately and then rolled over and fell asleep.

Rather disappointing -- I wanted to diminish the intensity of Kevin's passion, not extinguish it altogether.

Three Way #3: Orson

Ok, someone who was closer to Kevin's type, but not too close: a hairy muscle bear.  So I went to the Eagle and picked up a leather daddy named Orson -- about ten years older than me, balding, with a grizzly beard and a thick mat of white chest hair.

He turned out to be an anal top.  Neither of us were into anal, so Kevin and I took turns going down on him and fondling each other.

When he finished, Orson turned over onto his stomach and began to snore.  Kevin and I fell asleep soon, too.  No orgasms.

This was like the Three Bears story -- too hot, too cold.  I needed to find a guy who was "just right"






Three Way #4: Marius

Our fourth three-way was with one of Kevin's friends.  Actually his only close friend -- and boss at St. Mary's -- Marius, a beefy muscle bear in his 40s, with a heavy beard and a thick mat of chest hair.  He was from Argentina, but his parents were German.  He was somehow related to famous theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer..

This time Kevin was all over both of us, kissing and fondling, running his tongue over cocks and balls and nipples and armpits.  I went down on Marius twice, and Kevin three times, until my jaw ached.  He brought us near orgasm a dozen times before allowing us to spurt together.

Ok, what was the difference between Marius and Orson?  They were both hung muscle bears.

What did Kevin find attractive other than muscular physiques and gigantic sausages?

I couldn't ask him openly, of course, but I hinted around and got three characteristics:
1. Intelligence.
2. Innocence/naivete.
3, Religious devotion.

Suddenly it struck me:
Corbin and Marius: Muscle and religion (too hot)
Lamar: Neither (too cold)
Orson: Muscle only (too cold).

How about religion only?

Three Way #5: Wayne

Our fifth-three way was with Wayne, one of David's friends: a former Greek Orthodox priest who ran an interdenominational Orthodox fellowship in Berkeley.  He was in his 30s, handsome, cleanshaven, not muscular, with a pale chest, thin arms, and a Bratwurst beneath the belt.

Religion only.

Kevin was attentive to both of us, but not extravagant.  Kissing, oral, 69, interfemoral, no edging or weird oils.  One orgasm apiece.  Finished before dawn.

Now I just had to find a lot more skinny religious guys.

See also: Kevin the Vampire's Date with Satan.

Lane Has a Three-Way with His Brother

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