It’s Christmas, always a time for memories, but I’m not going to talk about sugar cookies and stockings. It is the gay farmer website after all. I’m going to talk about a couple of queer Christmases I had when I was living in NYC.
This memory is of a Christmas I must have had more than 20 years ago when I was about 24 or so. At the time, I was a bartender at a notorious bar in the Village, a left over from the 60’s, called the Ninth Circle. This bar had already long since peaked, had been visited by some of NY’s coolest set, but now was just a watering hole for the last hangers on of that era, those about to die of AIDS or just beginning to, underworld small time crooks and young hustlers looking for food, lodging and spending cash. One hustler…what was his name? I can’t recall. I can see still see him. Not much to look at, thin, unkempt, but cocksure and reckless. He trawled the waters of that older crowd, would sidle up next to them as they sat at the bar, take out his cock and let them grope it under the concealment of the bar rail. His cock was huge and from my vantage, I could watch the old men’s expression change to lust as they touched it. Afterwards, they would flag me down to order him a beer or drink of some kind. They were hateful perverts, all of those old men. Deceitful. They didn’t even have the decency to pay the young kid money. They cheaply doled out their affection in drinks, dinners at the diner, or a place to sleep next to them back at their apartments.
What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, Christmases. Well one Christmas, I spent walking all over the city with a friend I met at that bar. His name was Tommy. He was a graduate of the Julliard School of Drama and kept me in stitches whenever I worked. He was a funny, funny guy and …well, I can’t remember how or why we agreed to do it, but one Christmas morning, we put on Santa hats and walked all the way from our apartments in the Village, up Eight Avenue, across Central Park, past the Museum, then down through the East Side till we ended up back in the Village at a burger joint. We had martinis and burgers for Christmas. It was wonderful.
But the real reason, I’m telling you all of this is this. After I said goodnight to Tommy, I went to a porno bookstore. Now remember, its Christmas night. Still there were a couple of hustlers in there trying to make a few bucks. Maybe for some last minute shopping, who knows. Well, there was this one that simply blew my mind. He was about 6 foot tall, Hispanic, very light skinned, very tough, big bubble ass and a full, red lips. When I approached him, I wasn’t certain whether he was going to be hostile or what. After a brief conversation…I remember he was playing a video game while we talked. My eyes were on him, but his were on the video screen before him… I convinced him to come into the back of the bookstore with me and share a stall. This place was run by the mob. All of them were then and you could pay off the attendants to let you share a booth together, normally only 5 or 10 dollars. Anyway, I got this guy in there and he acts like this tough top and he wants me to suck his dick (which was huge, by the way), but I wanted some of that ass.
After fooling around with his cock for a while, I got him to turn around. His ass was perfect and when I started to eat him out, the scent of it was sweet and fresh. For a while, he held himself stiffly, but soon began to relax and after a few minutes more, he was actually sticking it out for me so that I could eat him out deeper. Lastly, he reached around and spread his fat, bubble cheeks for me so I could really get in there. Even now when I think about it, I get hard.
The guy was driving my crazy, so I stood up and whispered that I wanted to fuck him. He told me that it would cost me 60 bucks and I can tell you I practically threw the money at him. I couldn’t get in my wallet fast enough. I gave him the money. I remember the sound of the bills folding in his hand as he turned around to present his back to me again. His pants were down around his ankles. I remember the outline of his muscled legs. He had taken off his black aviator jacket and hung in on the hook on the back of the door. His t-shirt was lifted slightly to reveal his stocky waste.
I ate him some more to get him good and wet, then rock hard, I pushed my cock slowly into that perfect ass. He was tense. After a few strokes, I felt like I would explode in him. I had to keep thinking of horrible things: the prospect of getting arrested or killed, to keep from coming. Then, just as he had before, he relaxed and soon he was pushing his ass towards me and leaning more deeply into the wall in front of him. I was crazy with lust. It was one of the most rapturous fucks I have ever had and I can tell you that I was especially crazed when I reached around and felt that his cock was rock hard.
After a bit more pumping, I pulled out and came huge ropes of cum. He did not. Then we silently put our clothes back on. He left the booth before me…almost like he couldn’t wait to get out…away from me? Away from the shame? I don’t know.
By the time I pulled myself together and moved to leave the store, he was back at the video game. He never looked up as I left and I never saw him again.
If I could go back and relive that day, I would not have paid him for sex. I would have asked him to dinner and then, if he needed money, just given it to him. As I look back on Christmases past, I don’t remember the money or the presents. I remember the contact. I remember the people. I remember the rush of feeling that I was in love.
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