Would you like to take a ride in it?

It was 1970. It was the dawning of the age of Aquarius!  It was the season of free love and promiscuity. The genders were blurred in dress and affect. Woodstock and Stonewall were in recent memory. Kent State left a bitter taste not easily brushed clean. 

I was living in New Orleans and the world was my oyster which I was devouring raw - seasoned with passion and carnal knowledge. I was driving my dream sports car. It was a silver 911S Porsche, a gift from my parents. They honored me with it in recognition of my academic successes. The Porsche created a sensation wherever it went. 

I was graduated from OSU in Columbus summa cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa. I was intelligent and found school to be easy and interesting. I also graduated with honors from medical school four years later. 

I never doubted that I’d get into med school and only applied to Tulane.  I knew I wanted to live in New Orleans. I had vague but realistic ideas about what it would be like. I knew it was a gay Mecca and had heard stories about Mardi Gras and the unbridled passions that accompanied it. It was obviously a place I could feel safe and comfortable. 

 The summer before I found books at the Montgomery County Library in Dayton about a famous New Orleans surgeon - Rudolf Matas- who performed the first successful operation for arterial aneurysm. I also discovered a book on New Orleans restaurants!  Forewarned and forearmed I was ready to eat my way through the myriad culinary delights I would find there. 

I had a lucrative moonlighting gig at a small private hospital in Algiers directly across the Mississippi River from Canal Street.  The work was an easy 12 hour shift from 6pm to 6am the next morning. The ER was never busy and was staffed by a cute Navy corpsman who worked as a nurse.  Our mutual gaydars identified each other as worshippers at the same altar! 

I had a locking room at the hospital where I could read or sleep and the corpsman and I shared carnal knowledge with each other.  He loved cock sucking and man-cum. He spent the night with me and arranged his work schedule so we were both there at the same time. This pleasurable arrangement lasted for 3 years until he was transferred to another base. 

There was also lagniappe (a New Orleans term for “a little something for nothing”) in the guise of a 16 year old high school girl who worked as a volunteer “Candy Striper” helping out where needed.  Her name was Carol and she was low hung ripe fruit ready for plucking. She wore a pink and white striped uniform. 

The Porsche was a gossip topic all over the hospital - the handsome young doctor and his silver chariot!  Naturally everyone wanted to see it. Including the pink and white dressed girl. We went out to see the car one night after she got off work.  We got into it and immediately started kissing and fondling each other. She had firm perky teen breasts and a wet pussy which I fingered.  Her juices were sweet as I licked them off my fingers.  

Naturally I wanted to fuck her and she was eager to get fucked.  Obviously the car in the parking lot was neither the time nor the place.  We made arrangements for me to pick her up after school the next day and we drove back across the River to my apartment.  She was living with a foster family and was loosely supervised. 

We hurried into my apartment and deep tongue kissed and undressed each other.  She was both cute and beautiful. We got into my bed and I got between her shapely teen legs and introduced her to the pleasures of cunnilingus and schooled her in the art of fellatio.  Entering her tight teen vagina with my thick 8” cock took a little time.  We got into a fucking rhythm and I orgasmed 3 times without losing my erection or taking my cock out of her teen pussy. She had sooo many orgasms that I lost count.  She was not on birth control pills and I got samples from the drug detail man for her. We fucked around all summer and well into the school year. It was a long hot summer!

My upscale apartment was on St. Charles Avenue in the Garden District of the city. This was a posh and elegant part of the city with 3 and 4 story antebellum mansions with elevators and live-in servants. My apartment was two blocks away from the corner of Napoleon and St. Charles Avenue. 

One evening I was shopping at the corner drugstore called Katz and Besthoff - glibly known as Katz and Beatoff.  I parked by the curb next to the drugstore and when I returned to the car, there was a deeply-tanned buff 16 year old high school boy admiring the Porsche.  He had sun bleached long curly blonde hair and a well-developed muscular teen physique.  It turned out that he was on the high school swim team! 

He was drop-dead gorgeous by anyone’s standard.  I looked over the top of the sleek low-slung silver beast and asked, “Would you like to take a ride in it.”  He flashed me a bright white smile of perfect teeth and and nodded. I got in the car and unlocked the passenger door.  He hopped right in and our mouths were magnetically drawn together in a deep tongue passionate kiss!  He ran his left hand up my bare thigh and gently groped my rock hard thick man cock. His cock was large and thick and hard. We ignored the passers by who gave us startled looks. He was bare-chested and his tee shirt was tucked into the back of his shorts . 

I drove a few miles up St. Charles Avenue to show him what the car would do and then drove back to my apartment. Once inside we kissed and gently undressed each other.  

We smoked a fat blunt I had rolled earlier and after we were properly medicated got into my antique brass bed and licked and kissed each other from toes to ears. We spent the night making passionate love and sex.  We didn’t sleep much and shared 3 orgasms.  We fell asleep arm in arm and woke up late the next morning and did it all over again!  We went to the Camellia Grill for brunch and each had one of their iconic omelettes.  He lived close by and we stopped at his house so he could get some clothes to take to my apartment.  I met his parents who were friendly and cordial and seemed happy that he brought me to meet them. 

We went back to my apartment and spent the next several days making love and having some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.  Thus began a 7 year “out and proud” love affair that lasted until he tragically died of AIDS. There was no effective treatment then and he died in my arms at his parent’s house.  I don’t know why I didn’t get AIDS.  I grieve his loss to this day and will never forget him! 

We lived together openly and enjoyed each other’s friends and family. It was the love of a lifetime.