Charlie

In my wild, impetuous youth, I was completely unaware that one could get an STD of any kind from sucking cock, so I indulged that impulse enthusiastically. (STDs were not discussed in those days, and some of the now common ones weren't known--I had never heard of anything but syphilis and gonorrhea, and assumed both were transmitted only by fucking.) It wasn't until I had contracted a couple of nasty throat infections that I realized that insertion of a cock in any orifice carried some danger, with or without ejaculation. By then the connection between cock-sucking and sexual excitement had become so firmly imprinted on my brain that it was impossible to eradicate. Alas! None of the safer practices have ever brought me the same level of satisfaction.

I get turned on by big........trucks.

Palm Springs?

People change, technology changes, economies change, governments change, societies change, climate changes. If Ford stops making sedans and GM invests mostly in electric vehicles, it is not surprising that websites change, too. That doesn't mean I have to like it, but it does mean I have to adjust to it.

Happy Holidays to all! Will the site be re-born on January 1st?

Strangely enough, I had a conversation an hour ago with a neighbor whose wife recently had a knee replacement. Her recovery has been fairly rapid, considering that she is in her late 80s, but she still has difficulty bending the knee, and she is afraid to walk without a cane, something she never needed before.

The whole idea of sucking a cock with jewelry in it turns me off.

I grew up in a family in which sex, of any kind, was never discussed. Although I realized by the time I was in early adolescence that I was attracted to males, I was rather shy, and I didn't even know the mechanics of having sexual relations: the first time I did anything with another male, at age 17, I was amazed to discover that a penis could be inserted into an ass! Apparently others didn't perceive that I was homosexual--perhaps because I was pretty quiet, physically average, and developed secondary male features like body hair earlier than my peers--so I don't remember ever being bullied. I became sexually active at exactly the same time that I graduated from high school and went away to a small college, where absolutely nobody knew me, so I was free to create a new persona. But those were the Eisenhower years, an era when being "different" often did lead to persecution, so I became a scholar rather than a rebel. I did find gay friends and sex partners off campus and on long summer breaks back home, where I had access to the NYC fleshpots, but on campus I was just one of the regular guys, albeit with hints of worldliness from more than just books. Just like my straight roommates, I had girlfriends, but my reputation was unexpectedly established when the beautiful girlfriend of the football team captain broke up with him and started dating me. When the relationship threatened to become serious, I told her that I had sex with men, and that proved a deal-breaker. While I was in college, I also came out to my parents, though not to other family members. When I graduated, I immediately went off to graduate school, where again nobody knew me, so I was free to create another new persona. This time it was in a major city, and because I was an adult, I decided it was time to be more completely out. I lived downtown rather than on campus, and became a regular part of the gay community. Many of the friends I made at the university were gay as well, though I wasn't "loud and proud" there. However, I did join the Janus Society, an early gay rights organization, joined protests, and became an officer when JS morphed into the Homosexual Law Reform Society. When I finished my degree and started working, I didn't declare myself to employers and colleagues (being actively homosexual was, after all, illegal), but I didn't try to hide it either. I lived with my first male partner, and people could draw whatever conclusions they wanted to. I never lied if directly asked. After Stonewall, all the shackles were off. In the 70s, I worked with other organizations, like GAA, lobbied the state legislature, taught my school's first Gay Literature course, and was televised carrying the rainbow flag at the head of the Gay Pride parade downtown. In the 80s, when Silence=Death, I volunteered with AIDS organizations. As I have grown old and gray, I am less interested in gay activities than I used to be, and am more inclined to give money to support activism than to man the barricades myself. There is no reason to be silent, because there is almost no one I come in contact with who doesn't either know or assume that I am gay, including distant relations and those long-ago high school and college classmates.

Yes, that is Wenceslas Square.

"Straight, bi, or gay" refer to to sexual preferences rather than to sexual activities. Straight men can suck cock, and gay men can fuck women, without changing their basic orientation.

I looked for my review of him on Daddy's, but it wasn't there, so I had to check my records to see when I hired him, and it was so long ago that it was when Hooboy was still alive; those reviews are no longer available. At that time (2004), he had a nice apartment on Van Ness and was about 40 years old. I remember that he was physically attractive and pleasant company, but the sex wasn't memorable enough to ring any bells for me.

I have been listening to Domingo for 50 years, and for the last decade I always expect that the next time I will think, "It's time for him to quit." But I never do. When the time finally comes, sometime around 2035, someone will probably mount a production of Turandot just so he can end his career as the Emperor Altoum.

I tip my barber rather liberally every time I get my hair cut (about once per month), so I see no reason for a larger tip than normal at the holidays.

I tip my barber rather liberally every time I get my hair cut (about once per month), so I see no reason for a larger tip than normal at the holidays.

Mark Alexander probably states his real age on the ad, but most of the photos are the same ones he has used for about ten years.

Unusual name choice: in Greek mythology, Thanatos is the "Grim Reaper," i.e., Death. Of course, one of the old euphemisms for sexual climax was "the little death."

I love the green bean casserole.

I can never forget the masculine odor of the late pornstar Eric Ryan.

It has been years since we have "celebrated" the traditional family holidays, because what family we have lives far away from us. I can't say that I miss it much. The most we do is go out to a restaurant for dinner.

The anal pap test is certainly not pleasant. My gay doctor apologized for the discomfort.

Your memory of his image in his old ads is correct.

Boy, is that a big...umm, truck!

Long ago (more than ten years) I had a first appointment with him in L.A. that I had to cancel at the last minute because of a medical emergency, and I was unable ever to reschedule. However, he was very sympathetic and understanding, which is certainly not true of a lot of escorts under those circumstances.

That caption is clever, but it made me think. Most "American" cars are far from 100% Made in USA in terms of their contents. Do Italian cars consist entirely of Italian-produced contents? I suspect a DNA test of both the young man and that Ferrari might not show quite such perfect percentages.

Usually when I check in on this site in the morning, there are at least five pages of new posts to scroll through. Today there are only two pages. That was enlightening.