TheKnobGobbler

The Phoenix Bar in New Orleans is for all intents and purposes an Eagle. It's located outside the French Quarter on Elysian Fields, and it caters to a similar crowd of leather/denim wearers and their admirers. There's a nice big main bar at the entrance, a fetish shop, a patio, and a small bar upstairs that frequently doubles as an impromptu fuck room.
 
The Corner Pocket is a fun male "strip" club that has lots of gay4pay hustler types and draws a mostly older crowd who are there to shove sweaty dollar bills back into the dancers' crevices. It's toward the back of the Quarter on Burgundy, a few blocks away from the rest of the gay bars. (Be on your guard here, as more than one wallet has gone amiss when unwary customers were distracted. Best to keep cash/ID/cards in front pockets and be mindful of who goes near there. Also, don't get too intoxicated that you let down your guard outside the club, as there are always opportunists lurking and waiting for drunk tourists to prey on. Keep some wit about you.)
 
The 700 Club is one of my fav neighborhood bars, and it's just a couple of blocks over from CP on the corner of Burgundy @ Saint Peter. During holiday & big event weekends there are usually some hot go-go boys atop the bar here, too. But it's always a good place to stop in, check your bearings, and refuel on some good pub food from their kitchen.
 
Rawhide is a wonderfully seedy leather bar on Saint Ann at Burgundy that has pool tables and an infamous dark back room where all kinds of shenanigans go on. Very cruisy at all hours of the day and night. (But with dark corners comes the advice from about about wallets & valuables.)
 
A block up Saint Ann from Rawhide is Good Friends Bar, a fun place if it's not overcrowded. Upstairs is usually more cruisy than the open area downstairs, and there's good views up and down the fruit loop from the balcony here.
 
There are almost always go-go boys atop the bar at Oz and The Bourbon Pub, the two biggest bars on Bourbon St (@ Saint Ann). It's good people watching from either of their balconies looking down onto the street crowd where you'll inevitably see straight girls dragging their confused looking boyfriends through the intersection into a sea of rainbow flags and shirtless men, followed shortly afterward by the newly informed boyfriend dragging the girlfriend right back toward the safety of the straight end.
 
Further down Bourbon St where it becomes mostly residential and quite a bit darker, there's Cafe Lafitte In Exile, which used to be a great place to get your dick wet or your ass passed around the pool table upstairs, but it's gotten a bit tame in recent years. Still, worth checking out. It's the furthest of all the Quarter bars in that direction, and is a hefty walk to get from here all the way to the other end of the Quarter where Corner Pocket is, so you might consider a pedicab.
 

The Phoenix Bar in New Orleans is for all intents and purposes an Eagle. It's located outside the French Quarter on Elysian Fields, and it caters to a similar crowd of leather/denim wearers and their admirers. There's a nice big main bar at the entrance, a fetish shop, a patio, and a small bar upstairs that frequently doubles as an impromptu fuck room.
 
The Corner Pocket is a fun male "strip" club that has lots of gay4pay hustler types and draws a mostly older crowd who are there to shove sweaty dollar bills back into the dancers' crevices. It's toward the back of the Quarter on Burgundy, a few blocks away from the rest of the gay bars. (Be on your guard here, as more than one wallet has gone amiss when unwary customers were distracted. Best to keep cash/ID/cards in front pockets and be mindful of who goes near there. Also, don't get too intoxicated that you let down your guard outside the club, as there are always opportunists lurking and waiting for drunk tourists to prey on. Keep some wit about you.)
 
The 700 Club is one of my fav neighborhood bars, and it's just a couple of blocks over from CP on the corner of Burgundy @ Saint Peter. During holiday & big event weekends there are usually some hot go-go boys atop the bar here, too. But it's always a good place to stop in, check your bearings, and refuel on some good pub food from their kitchen.
 
Rawhide is a wonderfully seedy leather bar on Saint Ann at Burgundy that has pool tables and an infamous dark back room where all kinds of shenanigans go on. Very cruisy at all hours of the day and night. (But with dark corners comes the advice from about about wallets & valuables.)
 
A block up Saint Ann from Rawhide is Good Friends Bar, a fun place if it's not overcrowded. Upstairs is usually more cruisy than the open area downstairs, and there's good views up and down the fruit loop from the balcony here.
 
There are almost always go-go boys atop the bar at Oz and The Bourbon Pub, the two biggest bars on Bourbon St (@ Saint Ann). It's good people watching from either of their balconies looking down onto the street crowd where you'll inevitably see straight girls dragging their confused looking boyfriends through the intersection into a sea of rainbow flags and shirtless men, followed shortly afterward by the newly informed boyfriend dragging the girlfriend right back toward the safety of the straight end.
 
Further down Bourbon St where it becomes mostly residential and quite a bit darker, there's Cafe Lafitte In Exile, which used to be a great place to get your dick wet or your ass passed around the pool table upstairs, but it's gotten a bit tame in recent years. Still, worth checking out. It's the furthest of all the Quarter bars in that direction, and is a hefty walk to get from here all the way to the other end of the Quarter where Corner Pocket is, so you might consider a pedicab.
 

great summary, @TheKnobGobbler ; very helpful to NOLA visitors!

Hello ALEXA --- Play the Minute Waltz 57 times without break!

The Phoenix Bar in New Orleans is for all intents and purposes an Eagle. It's located outside the French Quarter on Elysian Fields, and it caters to a similar crowd of leather/denim wearers and their admirers. There's a nice big main bar at the entrance, a fetish shop, a patio, and a small bar upstairs that frequently doubles as an impromptu fuck room.
 
The Corner Pocket is a fun male "strip" club that has lots of gay4pay hustler types and draws a mostly older crowd who are there to shove sweaty dollar bills back into the dancers' crevices. It's toward the back of the Quarter on Burgundy, a few blocks away from the rest of the gay bars. (Be on your guard here, as more than one wallet has gone amiss when unwary customers were distracted. Best to keep cash/ID/cards in front pockets and be mindful of who goes near there. Also, don't get too intoxicated that you let down your guard outside the club, as there are always opportunists lurking and waiting for drunk tourists to prey on. Keep some wit about you.)
 
The 700 Club is one of my fav neighborhood bars, and it's just a couple of blocks over from CP on the corner of Burgundy @ Saint Peter. During holiday & big event weekends there are usually some hot go-go boys atop the bar here, too. But it's always a good place to stop in, check your bearings, and refuel on some good pub food from their kitchen.
 
Rawhide is a wonderfully seedy leather bar on Saint Ann at Burgundy that has pool tables and an infamous dark back room where all kinds of shenanigans go on. Very cruisy at all hours of the day and night. (But with dark corners comes the advice from about about wallets & valuables.)
 
A block up Saint Ann from Rawhide is Good Friends Bar, a fun place if it's not overcrowded. Upstairs is usually more cruisy than the open area downstairs, and there's good views up and down the fruit loop from the balcony here.
 
There are almost always go-go boys atop the bar at Oz and The Bourbon Pub, the two biggest bars on Bourbon St (@ Saint Ann). It's good people watching from either of their balconies looking down onto the street crowd where you'll inevitably see straight girls dragging their confused looking boyfriends through the intersection into a sea of rainbow flags and shirtless men, followed shortly afterward by the newly informed boyfriend dragging the girlfriend right back toward the safety of the straight end.
 
Further down Bourbon St where it becomes mostly residential and quite a bit darker, there's Cafe Lafitte In Exile, which used to be a great place to get your dick wet or your ass passed around the pool table upstairs, but it's gotten a bit tame in recent years. Still, worth checking out. It's the furthest of all the Quarter bars in that direction, and is a hefty walk to get from here all the way to the other end of the Quarter where Corner Pocket is, so you might consider a pedicab.
 

A few more of the most common ways anyone, including providers and clients, can inadvertently let slip their real information have come to mind recently. They include:

Amazon's gift registry/wishlist
Any personal social media profile that has been linked to your alternate phone number
Use of a common username on bulletin board forums (like this one) and sites like Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook
Comments on Disqus using mixed personal/private info in the user account
Google+ Communities - Bulletin: There is nothing private about Google anything, folks!

Amazon is chief among them as far as making it difficult to protect one's private identity. The hoops they make customers jump through in order to set up a gifting address properly and associate it with their public and/or shared Wish Lists is ridiculous. Sites like pipl.com make short work of aggregating enough data points from all over the deep web to uncover identities not hidden with the strictest diligence.
 
Some advice I often give is to have separate email accounts for your separate identities, create separate phone numbers for each, and never, ever, ever mix up information from one identity with a profile, account, comment, delivery, etc. for another identity. That goes for website registrations in a computer browser as well as accounts and contacts on your phone(s). If possible, keep your secret identity on a separate device altogether, and use different browsers when operating as one vs. the other. I use Chrome for Hangry Starfish but Firefox for my real identity. I have a separate skype for each ID, use an old phone no longer attached to a provider for all of my Hangry Starfish communication via Wi-Fi and VoiP, Skype, Sideline, Telegram, and a few other apps for texting/calling that don't always require an active phone number.

The Phoenix Bar in New Orleans is for all intents and purposes an Eagle. It's located outside the French Quarter on Elysian Fields, and it caters to a similar crowd of leather/denim wearers and their admirers. There's a nice big main bar at the entrance, a fetish shop, a patio, and a small bar upstairs that frequently doubles as an impromptu fuck room.
 
The Corner Pocket is a fun male "strip" club that has lots of gay4pay hustler types and draws a mostly older crowd who are there to shove sweaty dollar bills back into the dancers' crevices. It's toward the back of the Quarter on Burgundy, a few blocks away from the rest of the gay bars. (Be on your guard here, as more than one wallet has gone amiss when unwary customers were distracted. Best to keep cash/ID/cards in front pockets and be mindful of who goes near there. Also, don't get too intoxicated that you let down your guard outside the club, as there are always opportunists lurking and waiting for drunk tourists to prey on. Keep some wit about you.)
 
The 700 Club is one of my fav neighborhood bars, and it's just a couple of blocks over from CP on the corner of Burgundy @ Saint Peter. During holiday & big event weekends there are usually some hot go-go boys atop the bar here, too. But it's always a good place to stop in, check your bearings, and refuel on some good pub food from their kitchen.
 
Rawhide is a wonderfully seedy leather bar on Saint Ann at Burgundy that has pool tables and an infamous dark back room where all kinds of shenanigans go on. Very cruisy at all hours of the day and night. (But with dark corners comes the advice from about about wallets & valuables.)
 
A block up Saint Ann from Rawhide is Good Friends Bar, a fun place if it's not overcrowded. Upstairs is usually more cruisy than the open area downstairs, and there's good views up and down the fruit loop from the balcony here.
 
There are almost always go-go boys atop the bar at Oz and The Bourbon Pub, the two biggest bars on Bourbon St (@ Saint Ann). It's good people watching from either of their balconies looking down onto the street crowd where you'll inevitably see straight girls dragging their confused looking boyfriends through the intersection into a sea of rainbow flags and shirtless men, followed shortly afterward by the newly informed boyfriend dragging the girlfriend right back toward the safety of the straight end.
 
Further down Bourbon St where it becomes mostly residential and quite a bit darker, there's Cafe Lafitte In Exile, which used to be a great place to get your dick wet or your ass passed around the pool table upstairs, but it's gotten a bit tame in recent years. Still, worth checking out. It's the furthest of all the Quarter bars in that direction, and is a hefty walk to get from here all the way to the other end of the Quarter where Corner Pocket is, so you might consider a pedicab.
 

https://www.companyofmen.org/posts/1485014/

A few more of the most common ways anyone, including providers and clients, can inadvertently let slip their real information have come to mind recently. They include:

Amazon's gift registry/wishlist
Any personal social media profile that has been linked to your alternate phone number
Use of a common username on bulletin board forums (like this one) and sites like Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook
Comments on Disqus using mixed personal/private info in the user account
Google+ Communities - Bulletin: There is nothing private about Google anything, folks!

Amazon is chief among them as far as making it difficult to protect one's private identity. The hoops they make customers jump through in order to set up a gifting address properly and associate it with their public and/or shared Wish Lists is ridiculous. Sites like pipl.com make short work of aggregating enough data points from all over the deep web to uncover identities not hidden with the strictest diligence.
 
Some advice I often give is to have separate email accounts for your separate identities, create separate phone numbers for each, and never, ever, ever mix up information from one identity with a profile, account, comment, delivery, etc. for another identity. That goes for website registrations in a computer browser as well as accounts and contacts on your phone(s). If possible, keep your secret identity on a separate device altogether, and use different browsers when operating as one vs. the other. I use Chrome for Hangry Starfish but Firefox for my real identity. I have a separate skype for each ID, use an old phone no longer attached to a provider for all of my Hangry Starfish communication via Wi-Fi and VoiP, Skype, Sideline, Telegram, and a few other apps for texting/calling that don't always require an active phone number.

A few more of the most common ways anyone, including providers and clients, can inadvertently let slip their real information have come to mind recently. They include:

Amazon's gift registry/wishlist
Any personal social media profile that has been linked to your alternate phone number
Use of a common username on bulletin board forums (like this one) and sites like Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook
Comments on Disqus using mixed personal/private info in the user account
Google+ Communities - Bulletin: There is nothing private about Google anything, folks!

Amazon is chief among them as far as making it difficult to protect one's private identity. The hoops they make customers jump through in order to set up a gifting address properly and associate it with their public and/or shared Wish Lists is ridiculous. Sites like pipl.com make short work of aggregating enough data points from all over the deep web to uncover identities not hidden with the strictest diligence.
 
Some advice I often give is to have separate email accounts for your separate identities, create separate phone numbers for each, and never, ever, ever mix up information from one identity with a profile, account, comment, delivery, etc. for another identity. That goes for website registrations in a computer browser as well as accounts and contacts on your phone(s). If possible, keep your secret identity on a separate device altogether, and use different browsers when operating as one vs. the other. I use Chrome for Hangry Starfish but Firefox for my real identity. I have a separate skype for each ID, use an old phone no longer attached to a provider for all of my Hangry Starfish communication via Wi-Fi and VoiP, Skype, Sideline, Telegram, and a few other apps for texting/calling that don't always require an active phone number.

I think an important thing to look into is whether the US owner (whether a company or an individual) of a site housed on a foreign server would still be liable under US law.

Perhaps it's time we start a GoFundMe to relocate Daddy and his servers overseas.

As Tarte says, the Prague thread over at BT is the definitive source for Prague and very current. ("So Cute Boys in Prague") https://www.boytoy.com/forums/topic/16298-so-cute-boys-in-prague/.
 
Hunqz.com (part of Romeo) is the main source in Europe. Rentmen is just catching on slightly.
 
Two odd things about Prague:
1. The escorts on Hunqz change their names every couple months and you really need a source like the Prague thread to know the good ones current names.
 
2. Most of the good ones from Czech Republic (ones from Bel Ami, William Higgins, Staxus etc) mostly work in Switzerland now. The agent who handles most of them has shifted most escorts there. Even if you luck up on a Czech when he's in Czech willing to work there, he's going to expect Swiss prices now....E200 ($250) instead of K3000 ($150) --which is already double the German standard starting rate of E70.
 
Thermas Sauna in Barcelona is a great place for E50 half-hour dates in cubicles. Especially if you're into muscled tops. Dozens with boners sticking out as you run the gauntlet in the hallway. Pay the E10/hr for "Room #1".....well worth it. Air conditioning that works, 9x12 room, double bed, videos. Adan in Madrid is also supposed to be decent. Again BT has the definitive thread on Thermas including photos of the guys.
 
Hustlers are part of German culture and every major city has several hustler bars. But there are almost no Germans in them any longer. 90% Romanians and Bulgarians who are more into robbing and ripping off than any sort of sex. When you go into one put your money in your socks under your feet. Only "date" off the internet. The "Bahnhofjunge" who worked German train stations since the first German train are all gone. They have smartphones.
 
You don't have to go to Romania to be robbed by Romanians. Waste of a trip. You can enjoy that experience anywhere in western Europe. They avoid central Europe though (except for Berlin).
 
Hungary and Hungarians are odd (so are their cousins, the Finns). Action Bar in Budapest was the best live-sex bar anywhere but since it closed Budapest can be dead. Bel Ami has a big studio there and it's a beautiful city but not sexually hot. Closeby Vienna is much better.

I have hired in Vienna and Budapest. I have been further East, but not hired there.
 
I felt perfectly safe in both cases.
 
The main thing is to bring the guy to your hotel, don’t go to his place. In a busy hotel, there are many other people which means you should be safe, even the worst type of guy wouldn’t try anything that would make you scream. Don’t let yourself be muffled or attached to the bed, that is all. And don’t drink anything that could have been tempered with. And use the hotel safe for all your valuables, which removes the temptation.
 
Another risk is blackmail. Check the laws on prostitution in each country before you hire. Wikipedia will give you that information, just lookup “prostitution in ...” If prostitution is legal, you cannot be blackmailed for doing it.
 
You probably already know all the above, sorry I feel I am not so useful.
 
Barcelona “Sauna thermas” is a great place for a lot of good sex at very low cost.
 
There is a very long Prague thread over at boytoy.com forums, probably some useful info for you there.

I know this thread is pretty stale, but I wanted to drop one piece of info in case any members happen to visit the local gay strip club, Antropology, while in PVR. I've visited many times over the years, but I hadn't been to this club until pretty recently. The dancers are aggressive, but cute and friendly. There's definitely not going to be any problem breaking the ice once you get settled and order a drink.
On my first visit there, I made the rookie mistake of getting a little more intoxicated than I should have, and I ended up leaving my debit card hanging out of the ATM outside the club. I was happily surprised the next morning to have a message waiting for me at the front desk from the manager of Antropology telling me that he had found the card, called around to the hotels to try and locate me, and would be holding it for me in their safe until I could make it back down there that evening. I went, it was there, he was super nice, and I stayed for several more sexy lap dances!
 
As has been said already above, Puerto Vallarta makes its living off of tourism, and the Playa los Muertos area of Old Vallarta especially relies on the gay tourists to stay afloat. There may be the odd hustler trying to make his way up to your room and back out with your wallet every now and then, but over all, PVR's locals tend to look out for the reckless gringos who descend on their beautiful town year after year. If you're heading down there, definitely check out Antropology, and have yourself a good time! (But try to hold on to your debit cards.)

I know this thread is pretty stale, but I wanted to drop one piece of info in case any members happen to visit the local gay strip club, Antropology, while in PVR. I've visited many times over the years, but I hadn't been to this club until pretty recently. The dancers are aggressive, but cute and friendly. There's definitely not going to be any problem breaking the ice once you get settled and order a drink.
On my first visit there, I made the rookie mistake of getting a little more intoxicated than I should have, and I ended up leaving my debit card hanging out of the ATM outside the club. I was happily surprised the next morning to have a message waiting for me at the front desk from the manager of Antropology telling me that he had found the card, called around to the hotels to try and locate me, and would be holding it for me in their safe until I could make it back down there that evening. I went, it was there, he was super nice, and I stayed for several more sexy lap dances!
 
As has been said already above, Puerto Vallarta makes its living off of tourism, and the Playa los Muertos area of Old Vallarta especially relies on the gay tourists to stay afloat. There may be the odd hustler trying to make his way up to your room and back out with your wallet every now and then, but over all, PVR's locals tend to look out for the reckless gringos who descend on their beautiful town year after year. If you're heading down there, definitely check out Antropology, and have yourself a good time! (But try to hold on to your debit cards.)

Hell, I can't even remember the last time. http://www.boytoy.com/forums/public/style_emoticons/default/unsure.gif

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

Not counting the blowjobs I used to give to my cousins or to the couple of friends who sometimes stayed the night, my first time was during the summer of 1987 when I had just turned 14. I had been accepted to a state-run residential high school for gifted and talented students, but my dad was too cheap to help foot the tuition. So, I got myself a summer job to start earning the money to go to school. HE took the rest of the family on a week-long vacation to Disney World and left me home alone so I could take a cab to and from work. (I should preface the rest by saying that my dad was a monster who beat me and my brother so badly that there are photos of our welted and bruised butts on file in two different sherriff's departments.)
 
Two days before they were to return, on a Friday night in June, I got out the phone book, looked up the number of the only gay bar in our little city, and I called the bar, asking the bartender who answered, "Hi. I was wondering, are there any really attractive guys there tonight? Like an older guy? Maybe in his 30's?" He gave me a slow, quizzical reply and confirmed that there were indeed several men there matching that description. So, I asked if he could put one of them on the phone. He obliged.
 
Without knowing the first thing about this guy, I asked him if he was interested in popping the cherry of the neighboring town's Chief of Police's oldest son that night. He seemed pretty keen. So I gave him the address and waited nervously about 2o or 30 minutes for him to show up. When he did, I remember taking his hand at the door and leading him down the hallway through to my Dad's bedroom at the back of the house. We went in, undressed each other, and climbed into my Dad's atrocious 1980's king-sized waterbed with the huge, ornate wooden shelves for a headboard. That's where 14-year-old me took his first big ol' cock up the ass with the help of a totally perverted (hindsight is a bitch) 30-year-old statutory rapist. I *hated* it the first time. It hurt like fire. Maybe it was the cum he left in me that first go around that made the second time more enjoyable, but round 2 was everything I'd hoped for. Mission accomplished!
 
Dad and the step-fam got back that Sunday afternoon, each of them wearing their stupid mouse ears and looking like sunburned stupid. I just paraded around with a shit-eating grin on my face for pretty much the rest of that summer. I never told him his bed had laid the scene for his big, gay son's deflowering. I've been saving that little nugget of golden information for his deathbed. In case there's any chance the old bastard might pull through whatever finally gets him headed down the chute to hell, I want to be able to recount this story to him and help him shuffle off this mortal coil and reap his final reward for being such a remarkable father.

Speaking of his "brother"

 
Being in the middle of a Jenson/Jared sandwich sounds pretty hot and exciting to me!!!
 
TruHart1

Kirk Cameron to verify he is actually gay.

Here's the current list. Do you know something I don't? Please share your knowledge!
 
Gay Strip Clubs with Full Nudity in the United States
Arizona-Phoenix: Dick's Cabaret
California-San Francisco: Nob Hill Adult Theater
District of Columbia: Secrets
Florida-Miami: The Floppy Rooster
Georgia-Atlanta: Swinging Richards
Illinois-Centreville (near St. Louis MO): Boxers n Briefs
Massachusetts-Springfield: X-Room at Mardi Gras
Oregon-Portland: Silverado
Oregon-Portland: Stagg