I Love This Dirty Town

“There’s a George Bodine to see you, he doesn’t have an appointment; he says it’s about his son” said my secretary over the intercom. It was the fall of 1982. Ah, it goes with the territory, parents anxious about their sons.

I’m Brooklyn-born Don Castellano, a 34-year-old casting agent with my own company, working out of a midtown Manhattan office. I’m a handsome, hung, gay total top, who likes to have sex with a selection of the young male prospective clients who show up at my office seeking representation. My desk has seen a lot of action.

“Send him in …”

An in-shape suited man in mid-40’s who looked slightly familiar entered my office, I indicated for him to sit. “What can I do for you, Mr. Bodine?”

“It’s about my son Zachary. We haven’t been in touch since he left home in Atlanta three years ago” he said in with a light Southern accent. Ah! Now I recognized him from CNN. He was a prominent Atlanta attorney who was a figure in Right Wing Republican politics. So, Zac grew up in the lap of luxury which made his grim fate even juicer.

“That’s too bad, why come to me?”

“A private detective I hired traced his last residence. His former roommate turned over a box with some of his possessions, your business card was in it. I thought you might have some information.”

“Yeah, I’ve had meetings with your son. He’s 21, he’s a grown man doing his own thing, and he’s gay.”

“I know that!” sneered Mr. Bodine, “He came out to my wife and me. We were not accepting of his chosen deviant lifestyle on account of our church. We had a argument about conversion therapy, and he ran away; we’ve had no contact since. How is he?”

With a father this like this, no wonder Zac ran away and was the way he was. No wonder Mr. Bodine couldn’t accept a fag for a son, his Christian golf buddies at the country club would razz him, and his promising political career would never get off the ground.

“The last I heard, Zac was doing fine and he’s still gay. In fact, he showed me how gay he is. Your son sucked my cock in this office, and I fucked your son on this desk!” I wanted to really hurt this nasty gay-bashing cracker, who had rejected his own son for being what he was.

“Never mind all that” icily said Mr. Bodine, “I have to see him. My mother, his grandmother, doesn’t have much longer to live…”

***

I’m into the clone look and bang a lot of hot bottoms. Of course, I do. I’m 6’ 2”, I work out in the mornings, so I’m in great shape at 34. I wear tight button-fly jeans with no underwear and plaid shirts. My brown hair is cut short, and I have a mustache. My voice is deep and masculine. Oh, and I am hung. My cut dick is exactly eight inches and is real a beauty, I have a fine pair of big hairy swaying balls. I am irresistible and I know it.

The first time Zac Benton was in my office was three years ago. That’s what Zachary Bodine had changed his name to and was the name on his enticing headshot, the sight of which caused me to pop a major boner. He was gorgeous with luscious cocksucking lips, so he got an appointment with me. That meeting didn’t go so well. The second time Zac was in my office was three months ago, that meeting was quite productive.

At our initial encounter, wearing chinos and a varsity jacket, Zac was a peppy and preppy, extremely cute brown-haired 18-year-old, on the short side. Unfortunately, besides emitting no talent, he was also a screaming queen, talk about purses falling out of a mouth. I gave him my usual spiel, “I’m going to level with you kid, and be blunt, you’re too gay to be an actor. I can’t send you out on auditions, you’d never get cast in anything.”

Zac looked like he got punched in the stomach after hearing the harsh truth.

“Now, you’re very cute, just looking at you makes my big cock get hard, if you’re good at sucking it and can take a hard fuck from me, I could get you set up in escorting.” Indeed, he’d be very popular at Rounds, an East Side hustler bar.

The teary-eyed Zac got up and ran out of my office.

“There’s a Zac Benton calling to set up a meeting” said my secretary on the intercom, three years later.

“Sure” I said, my dick got hard.

A few days later, there was Zac in my office. Now at 21, he wasn’t so peppy, cute or preppy anymore, he was skinner, stubbly and needed a haircut. He was wearing tattered grimey jeans and a dusty blue sweater with holes in it.

“What can I do for you, Zac?”

“Well, things haven’t been working out…” Zac had been in a few Off-Off-Broadway plays and a few showcases that didn’t go anywhere, but nothing lately. He worked a minimum wage job as a movie theater usher. He was behind on his share of the rent of his shared East Village apartment. He had overdue dental bills from maintaining his show business smile. He was ground down by it all, it showed on his gaunt face and in his dull eyes.

“I’m ready to do what you talked about last time. I’ve met guys that do that, they say it’s not so bad. I’ve asked them to help me, but they say they can’t” said Zac in a low voice that almost cracked, “I thought maybe you could put me on to something, just temporarily as a way to get caught up.”

“Kid, you know I’m brutally honest. Your whore buddies can’t help you because you’re too old to hustle. High-class johns want a fresh-faced perky teenager sucking their cocks with a firm tight ass to fuck, you’re looking a bit worn out.” Zac was crushed and he appeared to be on the verge of tears. I had crushed his dream of being an actor, now I crushed his dream of being a whore.

“Do you go to the St. Marks Baths?”

“Uh, yes” said the blushing Zac.

“Well, it shows. All those late nights putting out for free for lots of guys, but you were too good to put out for me and hustle three years ago.”

“Fuck you!” yelled Zac, starting to get up.

“Hey! Shut up and sit down! With your height and build, there are other opportunities for you, if you’re a good boy” I stood up, I undid my belt and fly buttons, I hauled out my hard eight-inch-thick hard cock, I sat back down. “Show me that you have the talent for these opportunities, do me like you do all those guys at the baths.”

In a flash, Zac was under my desk and on his knees. WOW! This little slut was sucking my cock like a pro with those cocksucking lips of his. That head was bobbing up and down, he was swirling his tongue all over my dickhead and shaft like his life depended on it, it did.

“Not so high and mighty anymore, are you Zac?” I whispered.

Zac had great technique, he took my cock down to the base and deepthroated it as he looked up and into my eyes. Up and down went that head, I was leaking precum that Zac swallowed.

“Excellent, Zac!” I said as he was doing my balls. “Oh yeah! Now, get up, pull down your pants and bend over my desk.”

Flushed and teary-eyed from giving me a super blowjob, Zac stood, pulled down his jeans and white Hanes briefs, and bent over my desk. His ass was still pretty nice considering how much use it had been getting over the last couple of years. It would do for what he’d would doing later on.

After slathering Vaseline on my cock and Zac’s ass, I shoved my cock in. Oh yeah, his chute split right upon, Zac had become a real cock slut. There was a charged dynamic between us as my cock rested deep inside him. Three years ago, he’d been outraged at my proposition that he put out for me and then sell his mouth and ass. Now, he was in my office willing to bitch out for me and desperate for me to set him as a whore. Life sure takes its twists and turns.

His innards were loose from all the big dick he’d been taking, but as I fucked him there was still plenty of friction and his membranes tightened around my cock for a pleasurable fuck on my end. Zac’s too, as he moaned and then his fine dick shot off a load of cum on my desk. I thrust my cock a few more times and came in him. I pulled out.

“Here, clean yourself off” I said throwing him a towel. The defeated Zac wiped his ass. I wiped my dick off. I poured out two tumblers off Jack Daniels. I took out a pack of Camels.

"Can I have one?” said Zac.

I lit two cigarettes like in the movies and handed one to Zac.

We smoked and sipped Jack Daniels to come down from our intense hate fuck. I handed him a business card it was printed with:

Hawthorne Theater

312 West 38th Street

(212) ***-****

General Manager: Sal DeLuca

“I’m going to lay it out for you, so you know everything involved and don’t run away crying when you go there. The Hawthorne is a gay porn theater. Every hour between fuck flicks, there’s a 20-minute live sex show. You’ll be partnered with a top, you two come onstage, you suck his dick, and he fucks you in front of the audience. Then you leave and the fuck flick plays again.”

“You get $25 a show, there are 10 shows a day, so that’s $250 cash for you. You split the tips with the top, guys throw dollar bills on stage if they like what they see. While the movie is playing, you’re free to work the audience and give blowjobs, the going rate is $10 a head there. At the end of the night, you tip $50 to the bouncer and give him a blowjob. So, between getting paid to get to suck dick and get fucked onstage, tips and giving blowjobs to customers, you’ll get caught up real soon. Got it?”

“Yes, I got it” said Zac.

“Oh,” I said handing him a $50 bill, “Get yourself a haircut and a shave, you want to look shiny and boyish, and buy yourself something to eat afterward. Phil,” I said pressing the intercom, “Meet Zac in reception and take him to the dressing room.” “Sure, Don” replied Phil, a junior agent.

“We have a dressing room with clothes for clients to wear to auditions that require different looks” I said to Zac, “Pick yourself out a few pairs of pants and shirts and a nice sweater, you shouldn’t be walking around like this.”

Zac broke down crying. I know you think I am an awful person, I am, but even I have a heart. He was a classic fem gay boy scorned by his family with a father who had no use for him, now he was struggling alone in the big bad city. He needed and craved a strong man sexually and emotionally to step in; I did what I could for him. I put my arms around Zac and hugged him, “Hey, it’s going to be alright, go clean yourself up. In the dressing room, there’s a bathroom, it has disposable razors, shave your ass and then go and audition for Sal, show him how good you are…”

“Zac Benton is on line two” said my secretary the next day.

“Hey Zac,” I said taking the call.

“Thank you Don, for everything, I got the job.”

“That’s great Zac, be good and take care of yourself…”

Of course, Zac’s audition in Sal’s office consisted of sucking his cock and getting fucked by him. The way of the world.

Zac may have been too mature to hustle for a Rounds bar pimp or be a Fire Island houseboy, but he’d fit right in at the Hawthorne. He was a good-looking docile bottom with stamina whose spirit was broken. Now, instead of acting onstage, he’d be getting fucked onstage, so it all worked out for him. The Hawthorne was a sleaze pit conveniently located near the Port Authority and Penn Station, so commuters after a day of work in Manhattan could see and get some action before heading home to the wife and kids in the suburbs.

“Mr. DeLuca is on line two” said my secretary over the intercom a week later.

“Hey Don, the new kid is sensational! Thanks!”

“Sure! Glad he’s working out. I’ll check out the show later…”

After work, I walked through Times Square. I stopped in at the porno store at 40th and 8th Avenue, I went to the back and into the male section. There were a few young guys working the room. I saw Angus, he was a cute 18-year-old wannabe who’d come to me six months ago. I set him straight about his prospects and sent him to see a pimp, Virgillio. Virgillo turned Angus into a buddy booth whore, sucking dick for $10 a pop. I handed Angus a $10 bill, we went into a buddy booth, I hauled out my hard cock, Angus got on his knees and began sucking it.

“Nice to see that you’re doing well, Angus.” He nodded his head as he continued sucking my cock, he was quite skilled. I came in his mouth, patted his head, put my dick away and went on my way.

I got to the Hawthorne, the cashier said hello and I let myself in through the exit door. I did not have to pay the $5 admission and go through the turnstile. The place was packed with suit and tie types watching the fuck flick. I went down the hallway and knocked on a door, “Don Castellano” I announced.

The door was opened by Lou, a beefy guy in his 40’s in a black suit, who was redoing his belt. He’d done a stretch at Sing Sing, upon his release as a reward for keeping his mouth shut, he’d been given the cushy job of the Hawthorne’s bouncer. There wasn’t much trouble there, but a bouncer was needed just in case and for show. It was an easy well-paid gig with fringe benefits.

27-year-old Sal DeLuca was the youngest son of a connected family, he was given the job of managing the family’s gay porn theaters. He was a handsome dark-haired Guido-type wearing a dark suit and tie. He was at his desk with his suit trousers down, smoking a Camel and getting his extra-large Italian sausage serviced by Zac who was nude except for a white jockstrap. Zac’s hair was now dyed blond. Gentlemen prefer blonds and he was having more fun now.

I stood and watched the expert blowjob in progress. Eventually Sal came, his load was swallowed down by Zac. Sal fixed himself up. Guys like Lou and Sal had nothing against fags, they appreciated getting their Guido cocks sucked off by fags a few times a day.

“You look terrific with your new look Zac, have a great show.”

Indeed, Zac did look terrific, he was radiant and had back his old boyish glow. Money, hope and lots of dick, will all do that.

“Thanks Don!” said Zac applying Chapstick to his lips, he left.

“Don!” roared Sal shaking my hand and putting an envelope with 10 $100 bills in the other. Pimps and porn moguls pay me a $1000 bounty for each boy I send them. It’s easier than looking for boys on their own, that meant wading through druggies, disturbed runaways and nutjobs. They know I send them quality boys whom I’ve fully vetted.

Sal poured out three tumblers of Jack Daniels, for me, him and Lou. We sipped, smoked and chatted.

“Yeah, I sent him to Pascal’s for a dye job, customers like blonds” said Sal.

“That kid has some mouth on him” laughed Lou, who was recently familiar with Zac’s mouth and what it was capable of.

“Gentlemen! Live show starting in five minutes!” boomed the DJ over the speakers.

“Well, I’m going to watch the show” I said to Sal, we shook hands.

I took a seat in row by myself in the back of the theater. Guys who go to places like the Hawthorne sit as far as part away from each other as possible. The fuck flick was taken off, the stage lights came up.

“And now, the Hawthorne’s world famous live male sex show!” boomed the DJ. “Welcome to the stage, Emilio and Timmy!” Oh, Zac had a new stage name.

The nude Emilio entered. He was a tall, shredded, tatted, shaven-headed, mustached Latin gladiator. He was a mean mother fucker ex-con, as were many tops on the sex show circuit. No one wanted them for straight jobs, so they ended up fucking boys for pay. Emilio got such employment chiefly because he had a dick of death. It was a scary looking 8+ dark uncut inches of veiny Latin meat, two hairy prize balls swayed under it.

Trailing him, dragging a mattress out onstage was the skinny, now blond Zac, AKA “Timmy” who was nude except for a white jockstrap. Zac took a pillow from the mattress and placed it downstage center and got on his knees on it. There while Emilio stood in profile, Zac opened his mouth wide and took in that monster pinga. He proceeded to take the whole thing down his throat to the base.

There’s always been bottom shaming, but in the live sex world, bottoms were respected as a valuable commodity. Any guy with a big dick can lumber around getting it sucked and fucking. An appealing bottom must do the work of sucking big dick and getting his ass fucked 10 times with a day while appearing to enjoy it in front of a bunch of jeering pervs. Visually, the key to a good sex show was the bottom. Generally, the top was of color and the bottom was white, that was the ideal look for a sex show, the contrast of the shades of flesh. There was also the psychic dynamic that most guys identified with the bottom as they wanted a cute white boy to suck their cocks and to fuck.

Zac’s outstretched mouth and bobbing back and forth blond head continued working on Emilio’s pole. When it was time, Zac took his mouth off Emilio’s cock and set himself up on the mattress on his back, he raised his legs and spread his hole. Emilio greased up his cock and Zac’s ass with Crisco, for the audience he slowly penetrated Zac so we could see Zac’s tiny white ass slot stretch around Emilio’s dark hog. Emilio was all the way in. He started out slow and then his fucking of Zac intensified to audience cheering, dollar bills began being tossed, the stage was showered with them, Emilio put on a great show. Emilio dramatically pulled his cock out of Zac’s battered ass, there was the sight of his extended hole laden with Crisco. It had the splendor of a great wrestling match.

Usually, the top ejaculated at the last show only, he had to get it up 10 times a day. Emilio and Zac took a bow to applause, they scooped up their $1 bills, Zac dragged away the mattress, the lights went down, and the fuck flick resumed.

I lit up a Camel, soon I saw Zac in his jockstrap roaming through the theater, he left with a guy in a suit. Zac took him to a storeroom, to give him a quick blowjob for $10. I saw that sight repeated several times before I left.

***

“Mr. Bodine, meet me there at 10:15 tonight, I’ll take you to your son” I said handing him a Hawthorne business card.

Following a day of a work, I stopped off at the porno store for a $10 blowjob from Angus, who was still at it. I headed over to the Hawthorne, Mr. Bodine was nervously waiting outside. After exchanging pleasantries with the cashier, I led Mr. Bodine into the Hawthorne. We took seats in a secluded rear row, a gay fuck flick played on the screen.

“Hey Mr. Bodine, see Zac is well!” I said pointing to the blond-haired Zac who was coquettishly strutting around in his white jockstrap, working the room. He left with a tubby guy in a suit. “Your cocksucker son is going off to a broom closet to suck that guy’s cock for $10. You must be so proud of your son, he pulled himself up by his bootstraps without any help from you or the government.”

The fuck flick continued playing, then it was stopped, the lights went up. “And now the Hawthorne’s world-famous live sex show! Welcome to the stage Carlton and Timmy!” The audience clapped and whistled. The nude Carlton entered followed by Zac, dragging out a mattress and pillows.

Carlton was a chiseled, handsome, 27-year-old Black stud with a massive cock and beefy balls. He’d been a promising Alvin Ailey dancer whose career was cut short by a car accident that messed up his leg, so no more dancing. Luckily, he’d been a client of mine, I had gotten him print work for fashion magazine photographers who went for his alluring exotic look. It didn’t pay enough, so I sent him to Sal who needed a new top as Emilio got sent back to prison. Carlton fit right in as audiences were thrilled seeing a Black top wreck a cute young white bottom.

Carlton stood in profile with his stupendous dingus jutting forward, Zac placed a pillow before him and got on his knees. The audience erupted with delight and began throwing dollar bills on stage when Zac opened his mouth and took in that Big Black Cock and proceeded to work on it with his tongue and lips. It was quite a sight seeing a blond, white boy’s widely stretched mouth suck and deepthroat a long thick Black rod.

Sitting next to me, Mr. Bodine was driven to emotional despair by the spectacle of his white pussy boy son’s submissiveness to a Black warrior in front of cheering white guys. Being from the South, I’m sure Mr. Bodine had a lot going on in his mind regarding this subject. He was weeping and howling, like George C. Scott in Paul Schrader’s movie, Hardcore, when Scott sees a porno flick with his daughter in it.

After supremely orally servicing Carlton’s enormous Black meat, Zac got up, got on the mattress on his back and raised his legs. Carlton generously applied Crisco to his ebony schlong and Zac’s pale asshole. The audience went crazy seeing Zac’s tiny pink rosebud miraculously stretch around a Big Black Cock. Carlton was in all the way and began vigorously fucking Zac. The mattress moved around the stage from the velocity of Carlton’s fucking. Even in the back of the theater, amidst the audience’s cheering, Zac’s whelps of pleasure could be heard. The stage was littered with $1 bills from the appreciative audience.

Soon, Zac’s white jockstrap was visibly stained from the load of cum he shot off in it from Carlton’s skillful fucking. Carlton kept on fucking Zac, then he pulled out and blasted a geyser of his viscous semen all over Zac’s chest, face and blond hair. This money shot elicited more money to be thrown onstage by the audience. Triumphant Carlton and the cum-drenched Zac were beaming as they stood downstage before the cheering audience. They bowed; Carlton exited with Zac dragging the mattress behind him.

Mr. Bodine had been writhing in agony throughout the exhibition and was now limp and numb in his chair. I could see from the bulge in his suit trousers that his dick wasn’t limp, it was at full mast, he had been involuntarily aroused seeing his slavish son publicly and willfully ravaged by his Black master’s cock.

“Follow me” I said to Mr. Bodine as we went to a hallway backstage, “Wait here. I entered the dressing room.

“Great show tonight!” I said to Carlton and Zac who were both nude and cleaning themselves up.

“Thanks Don!” said Carlton.

“Zac, I know this is a shock, but your father is here outside and wants to talk to you.”

“Ha! Surprise! Surprise! I thought I was hallucinating when I saw him in the audience! I’m glad that bastard got an eyeful tonight!” sneered Zac, “Sure, bring him in!”

I opened the door and Mr. Bodine entered. He had a pained expression as he took in the sight of his soiled son and the Black man who had just fucked his son’s mouth and ass in front of a roaring crowd.

“Zachary” stammered Mr. Bodine, “We’ve had our differences, but your grandmother is dying and wants to see you one more time. Please come back home with me.”

“Nice to see you again Dad” icily said Zac, “Glad you could make it, you inspired my performance. Considering the last time I spoke to Nana, she told me I was going to hell for being what I am, this is the best news I’ve heard in a while. You tell her I’ll see her in hell!”

It happened so fast. Mr. Bodine slapped Zac’s face, that was followed by Carlton socking Mr. Bodine in the jaw. Mr. Bodine landed on the ground. With his Big Black Cock and heavy balls on display jangling, Carlton grabbed and lifted Mr. Bodine up.

“Listen mother fucker! You get the fuck out of here and don’t ever come back! I know all about you mother fucker! Just so you know, not only do I fuck your son on a stage in front of a bunch of crackers like you, I fuck your son in a bed when we’re alone together, we’re lovers! That’s right! Not only is your son gay, but he lives for taking it up the ass from a BROTHER! He can’t get enough of my big black cock! Go on back to Atlanta, you piece of shit!” roared Carlton.

“Wait!” yelled Zac, “I want this bastard to really know what I am!”

Zac went over to his standing father who was held by the powerful Carlton. Zac undid his father’s belt, unzipped his fly and took out his father’s big hard cock, stroked it and fondled his father’s balls. With Carlton holding him in place the weeping and disgusted Mr. Bodine got his cock sucked by his son. It was a sick twisted exhibition witnessing that upright Right-Wing phoney getting blown by his own son. Zac put his heart and soul into this special blowjob, he licked his father’s shaft, tounged his balls and masterfully deepthroated his whole cock. Mr. Bodine’s weeping was replaced with gasps of profound pleasure, Zac was undoubtedly a better cocksucker than his mother. Mr. Bodine let out a pained wail as he came in his son’s mouth. Zac swallowed down most of his father’s load of cum. Then Zac took his mouth of his father’s cock, it blasted a couple of times on Zac’s face and hair.

“Look at me Dad! See and remember this!” yelled Zac with his face seeped in his father’s cum. “You know where to find me Dad, if you want a rerun or to go all the way” sneered Zac. He put some Hawthorne business cards in his father’s suit pocket. “Oh, tell your country club friends to look me up when they’re in town, you can vouch for me that I provide excellent service, goodbye Dad!” Zac opened the door, Carlton tossed out Mr. Bodine whose pants were at his ankles, his now soft dick that had just been sucked off by his son was on display, Carlton slammed the door shut.

Carlton kissed and hugged the crying Zac, they cleaned themselves up and got dressed. It had been quite a night, we all needed to unwind. I took them to the Town and Country on 46th Street, a friendly neighborhood gay bar. After settling into a booth, I went to the bar.

“Hey, Don!” said Pete the bartender, he was a handsome masculine guy in his mid-20’s, he was a client of mine, a real client. He was gay but could pass for straight, I never propositioned him, he was a real actor with potential, I respect talent. He slid a Jack Daniels on the rocks to me.

“I also need a rum and Coke and a Remy Martin.”

“Sure thing, Don!”

He made the drinks; I tossed a $20 bill down. Drinks were cheap there, but I was a big tipper.

“Thanks Don! I’m glad you stopped by, being a regular now on Ryan’s Hope means I can quit this place, I owe it all to you!”

“That’s great news, Pete!” I carried the drinks away.

Ryan’s Hope was a popular soap opera that taped in Manhattan. Besides procuring boys, I do perform actual work in show business.

Carlton, Zac and I had a few more rounds on me. Then they took a taxi to Carlton’s Harlem apartment where they lived together. I walked home alone to my apartment on 51st between 8th and 9th.