Whippoorwill

Yes he has moved-he is on Fell between Franklin and Gough. Easy walk from the Market St transit spine, and also from Van Ness.

He is in the Symphony Hall/Hayes Valley neighborhood. Easy transit access.

I once belonged to an invitation-only membership sex club. The criteria were two out of the three: good looking, big cock, hot body. You wrote the organizer and told him which you were, and at the first meeting he verified in person. It actually worked quite well. This was strictly for sex. Husband hunting is altogether different.

I’ll be 82 in a couple of months and I’m still raring to go. True, the body parts are wearing out and nothing works quite the way it used to. But, a couple of weeks between orgasms, a couple of viagra, a couple of a hundred dollars, and the right provider do the trick. I have always been a chicken hawk, and today “chicken” for me is definitely someone over 30…or more…someone who has been around the block a couple of times, who understands they are not god’s gift to the world, who are skillful at what they do, who understand that they are in business and each of us have a role in the transaction. My role is to respect them and their work, to be flexible in setting up appointments as with any professional, to be clear on what I am buying, to pay the fee asked, to show up on time clean and prepared, to be complimentary as appropriate, to express gratitude for a service well rendered, to write positive reviews on their ad page and on COM, and to be a loyal repeat client. In the situations where it works best, I have become the old guncle who shares whatever wisdom I have gained in a long life and they share the excitement of youth and change. With the right person that goes beyond sagging tits and a limp dick.

My favorite boy has a large mirror strategically positioned next to the massage table so you can admire the goings-on whether on your stomach or on your back. Depending, you can feast your eyes on his beautiful ass as well as chiseled torso, six pack, and raging hard cock. No need to fumble around feeling for his cock and grabbing air. No doubt that a massage in that room will end in debauchery!

I too am baffled what the big concern is. It’s like when I first was coming out, and I would see a friend/classmate/neighbor in a gay bar/baths/T-room. It was only awkward until I realized that if they were there, they were there for the same reason I was. Honor among thieves, and all that…

In my experience providers know many of the others…they go to the same gyms, live in the same neighborhoods, read each other’s adverts, etc. I have had them ask who else I am seeing when they are looking for a new masseur, looking to rate other’s services against their own, ways to improve their services, etc. They have told me things about other providers and their services that I otherwise would not have known, recommended other providers they think I might like and vice-versa…all in a natural professional to professional way. I cannot imagine they don’t also say, “So and so may come see you, I told him you’d probably be good at the xyz he enjoys.”

He’s advertising his RM services; you buy RM services. Why would he find it awkward or uncomfortable? If he does, he’s in the wrong business. I say go for it.

Thanks for the reminder…I did it

Listing it as an amenity is strange, but nonetheless it is very helpful to know what the situation is in advance.

My husband and I could “cook” for ourselves or we can go out for a fabulous meal. We could have built our house or we could have hired a great architect. We could pick out our own clothes or we could hire a colorist/fashion consultant. Likewise why wouldn’t we hire professional courtesans who can strive to meet our every sexual desires?

Oh and I forgot to mention perhaps the most important thing…are you a skilled trained masseur? Or a hot courtesan? There is a market for either or both. Just be clear in your marketing.

Rate-setting is not a business plan; it is just one component of a business plan. You need to be clear to yourself what are your goals and objectives, time frame, limitations, etc. Is this a quick money idea, or a long term strategy? Are you truly service oriented, dedicated to pleasing others? What services are you selling, how are you planning on marketing them? What is your comparative quality and appearance? What is the venue and location? Is this rate an introductory offer (is this a first appointment rate, a 2025 rate, etc) or what? What sets you apart from the competition, etc, etc, etc? I encourage you to think deeply about this profession, be honest with yourself about your goals, advantages, and abilities, and make a decision that will work both for you and for prospective clients. If you decide it’s a “go”, I will welcome you into what can be a rewarding profession for provider and client alike.

You should have money of your own to spend without your wife supervising. For that matter, she should also. Nothing in particular to do with sexual naughties...just basic human dignity.

I haven't been back to NYC post Covid, but I have always loved the Rambles in the daytime...fresh air, no smoke, you can see what you're getting, and everybody wanting something. The only danger is running into the old ladies in tennis shoes watching birds while you're en flagrante dilicto. Even then, you ignore them, they ignore you.

I have helped two of my regular boys with resumes...they never asked but rather I volunteered. They are regulars. I like them. I want them to meet their potential, and be successful. I am happy to give away an hour of my time, and feel I have gotten it back in spades with service and/or friendship. This is of course very different from Ali's situation where he was not only asked but then haggled with over price. I would be finished with him also. In one of my instances, I rewrote the provider's advert for him. In that case I continued as a client. In the other instance, I helped the boy expand into a different profession. Like ApexNomad, I no longer felt I could have the same professional relationship with him.

Some time ago, in the 1980s, a darling British twinkie and I were an item, he visiting here, and I there. On one occasion, we were visiting York, a delightful medieval Yorkshire town. We were staying in a B & B just off The Shambles, a quintessential medieval neighborhood. Medieval folks tended to be shorter than today, and the room was quite compact. We were in a top floor garret, and our bedroom aerobatics had the top bumping his head on the ceiling while the bottom, on his back, could brace his feet against the ceiling. It didn't hold us back too much, as we quickly were running out of both condoms and lube. We found a chemist just across the street from The Minster (that glorious early medieval cathedral) and I went to find condoms while he picked out lube. This being England, such naughty things were not out in public so I had to ask the clerk...a 70ish year old white-haired matron. "I'd like some condoms", I said. "Condoms? What are they?" she replied. "Ah, er, condoms" I replied. "Condoms, what are they? How do you use them?" "Ah, er." "Just tell me how you use them." Not getting any helpful information from me, she yelled across the room to the other clerk, a matron of similar vintage, "Florence, this man wants condoms...do you know what condoms are?" Florence replies, "Condoms, what are they for? How do you use them?" At this point, the bf walks up holding a super giant economy size container of Vaseline. At which point the clerk puts 2 and 2 together, and says, "Oh, prophylactics." We soon got over the embarrassment, and roared all the way back to our garret to try out our new purchases. He and I still have a giggle over it. And every time I see York Minster in some photogenic TV mystery show, I look for that Chemist's, just across the street from the holiest site in town. I only hope in 2025, the prophylactics are self-service.

I was having my annual exam with my gay GP, and in he walzed with a stunning blond 20-something year old med student from Germany, who was on an exchange residency. He asked if I minded the visitor, chortling under his breath. Now it happens I have had a pea-sized benign lump on one testicle for years. My doc proceeded to examine, inspect, and manipulate both testicles in great detail. Then he turned my nuts over to this Teutonic beauty, who went through the same procedure several times (practice makes perfect). At which point my doc looked at me, and gave me a big knowing wink. It was all I could do not to break up laughing.

Ah yes, "the love that dare not speak its name" is now shouting from every rooftop. Strange indeed. Plus it's just boring.

Lots of very certain opinions on this thread. A couple of things occur to me. Is it not possible that some percentage of day laborers are gay/bi, just as some percentage of the entire population is? A well-tuned gaydar should allow one to make an offer to the right person that is welcomed, not exploitive. Second, having lived in California most of my life, and as a frequent Puerto Vallarta visitor, my Latino buddies long ago explained to me a common characteristic of machismo…it’s not gay if you’re the top. I’ve experienced many a “straight” trick who’d more than happily accept a blow job, but would never touch another guy’s cock, much less suck it. As a Latino friend once told me, his father said to him “I don’t care if you are gay” (in Dad’s mind, fucking a guy in the ass), but if I ever hear of you being fucked, I will murder you.” In other words, use discretion, treat everyone with respect, and don’t project our cultural values on everyone.

Mother taught me never to discuss politics or religion with “acquaintances.” You don’t know where they are coming from; you will never change their mind anyway; it only causes upset all the way around. What’s the point ? Why would I want to know?

A cock ring keeps me hard without me (or others) touching my cock…especially useful at the tubs, sex parties, sex clubs…when you want to display the goods but not necessarily going at it at the moment. As mother said, always try to look your best.

Sorry if this topic has been covered before…I searched and didn’t find it, but that surprises me. I was circumcised as an infant, but the doc left a little more skin than necessary. This has never been a problem until now in my dottage when my ears, nose, and scrotum have all gotten longer from gravity, and my cock shorter (sigh). Unless I am hard, it essentially looks like I am uncut. No problem…except the smell of Smegma. I shower daily and wipe the head of my cock after pissing. But as soon as I pull out my cock to piss, I get a strong whiff of Smegma. A good quality body soap (that works on the pits, crotch, etc.) isn’t doing it. Any recommendations what products are out there that might work? I know, I know, some of us get off on it. But I worry about broadcasting the smell across the room. I once had an uncut Swiss roommate, and as soon as you opened the dorm room you got knocked out by the smell of Smegma. It was kind of hot as a horny 20 year old, but it’s not becoming for a gentleman of a certain age in public situations.

I’d hire you in a NY minute. I think if I were you I would advertise as a side. It’s a lot easier to go up the services ladder than down. As a bottomish client I would go expecting non penetrative sex, and then try and up the game as multiple sessions engender more comfort on both sides. And for that matter, your bf may get more comfortable with time also.

I too grew up in the era when not only did everyone let it all hang out in the locker room, but swimming was nude at the YMCA, etc. In those days bathing suits were wool, with cloth belts. They pilled and gummed up the filters, so bathing suits were forbidden. I remember at age around 10, my brother and I taking in the wonder of the occasional uncut cock…what was that extra skin for? By the time I was in high school, we wore bathing trunks, but nudity in the locker rooms and gang showers was the rule. Swimming at Boy Scout camp was still naked. By the ‘80s I was living in the Castro and the gym locker rooms, saunas and steam were 100% naked and cruisey. Boyfriends of the cruisers would complain to management that their bf’s were getting it there, and management would post signs such as “masturbation causes blindness and loss of your gym membership.” I had a nice collection of those stolen signs in my garage. By the 2000’s I was going to the Y and noted that all the young guys got undressed/dressed with a towel around their waist, just like the girls at the beach. Somehow our culture has regressed to the point where young men are ashamed to be au natural.