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DIARY 2535


Looking forward to re-experiencing the fabulous sex in the Elgin, and I'm not disappointed. Get in at 4 pm just as a tall lovely is leaving from the first shows, and get upstairs on the dark steps to see two commenters sitting on the far side, lights across most of the back, but dark on the right side as you face the screen. Two people sitting separated on the side, the one on the wall looking collegiate and humpy, and two others sitting three seats apart in the dark, looking at each other. I can't decide where to sit, but sit on the right side just near the pole, vaguely out of the way of the lights. People look and look, and someone stands along the back, and when I casually drape my hand over the back of the seat, he comes over and presses a budding erection against my arm. I play with it and feel it getting bony, but it's not too big, and the guy comes closer and starts playing with my shoulder and ear and neck, and then he's around the side to sit down next to me, and I take him out and he IS small, with a funny fleshy soft top to it which mushes around around the hardness of his shaft, and he reaches into my shirt to play with my tits, then from both sides, and he reaches for my cock, but I'm soft, and after a few minutes of playing, when he draws his big face near mine and I think he's about to neck, but it doesn't happen, which is just as well, because he's old and ragged up close, and then someone comes up the aisle and he uses that as an excuse to zip up and move away. Thank goodness. By this time the fellow in the middle has left, so I move over to take his seat, and then the guy on the aisle leaves, so I'm over to my favorite seat: one vacant seat in from the right aisle in the last row. Smallish older fellow is now parading around the back, stroking himself, observing, as I do, that nothing's going on with the two on the far right, and when I look around to see what he's doing at my shoulder, he's got his cock and balls squeezed through his trousers under his coat. Well! I put my hand out and he walks closer to me, and I play with his thick complete hardness, running the skin back and forth over the gristly inside, and when my attention is distracted for a moment, I move my hand away, and hear the plop plopping of globs of liquid on the floor, and I glance back to see that he's pressing his erection firmly downward, and I reach over to get wet from the last few drops, and then he backs away to wipe himself off and put himself away and move to sit in the center aisle. I dry my hand, amazedly, on the side of the seat next to me, and the two others left go through some changes, and finally the other fellow leaves, leaving only the humpy number against the wall, and then he stands up to move around the back wall, and I join him, but the fellow who'd just left is standing down on the other side, and when HE leaves, the humpy number follows him down to the john, as I take it, and I take advantage of their leaving to sit on the extreme side. Don't have to wait for long, since someone tall, with very nicely fitting trousers, comes bouncing up the aisle and sits against the wall, proceeding to feel himself up. I oblige by moving in, thinking to leave an empty seat, but then sit next to him, and reach over to find a sizable cock and balls flopped on the top of his corduroys, and I enjoy running all the excess skin from his uncircumcised cock up and down around his bumpy hardening shaft. He reaches over for me as I take myself out, and he whips away at me, but I just don't feel like getting hard, and then he lets me do what I want, which is feel him until he gets very hard, rubbing saliva into it as he starts groaning "Oh, baby," and then as he looks appealingly at me, I go down on him, and he breathes "Oh, that feels just great." "Oh, man," and other endearing remarks as he shoves his erection into the back of my throat. He's also watchful, since he pulls me up a few times, but I keep down on him, enjoying the extra-smoothness of his uncircumcised cockhead, feeling him get very hard under my fingers, listening to his constant patter of lovely comment, and he breathes harder and harder as I go slower and slower, and he moans something like "Oh, baby, you've done it!" as he thrusts hard for a last time, and I move my mouth around voluptuously as his breath catches and snorts in his excited throat, and I suck and taste the slimy salty liquid slipping down my throat, and I keep down on him as he throbs and throbs and rubs my head and whispers nice things in my ear, and then I get up with a final tweak at his nick cock, and even though he's just arrived, I think, he zips up, gives me a last affectionate squeeze on the knee and the shoulder, and steps over the seat back to leave, tightly-trousered ass gleaming in the light from the screen. I sit and watch "Devil's Eye" with a trembling smile on my lips. The place is just so GREAT! There are others wandering around the back now, and the humpy number has come back so quickly I decide they couldn't have done anything downstairs, and the other guy just left. There are too many in the back to be interesting, and I sit for a bit, digesting the three cocks I've had so far, and the first movie's not even over. Then it clears out a bit in the back and I'm up to stand watching the other guy rubbing himself, and when I get closer to him, it's obvious he's older than he looks from a distance, but he's still tall and well built, so I get up close to him and he allows himself to be felt, and again he's on the short side, and I rub him up and down as he stands butchly aloof from touching anything of my body, and I unzip and take him out, and he's somewhat larger than the two small ones, but not nearly as appetizing as the last big one, so I don't bother to go down on him, and then some activity in the aisle makes him zip up and move away, so I go back to my seat, not wanting to miss anything. Then another large fellow comes to sit against the wall next to me, but though he has nicely shaped legs, he seems almost to have a fulsome stomach and a graying head of hair, so I don't bother making the first move, and neither does he, so we leave each other alone. After "All These Women" at 7, I sit, debating what to do, but there just doesn't seem to be anything interesting, so I take up my coat and walk across the back to see that there's a beautiful big blond sitting where I was noticing before, but he doesn't look at me, and though I wait around after going downstairs, he doesn't follow to the john, so I leave.


DIARY 2552


The day starts out very poorly because I get there late, but they're showing a half-hour short beforehand, so I don't miss any of the films, but there's a clunk already sitting in the right-hand "magic" section, and I decide that he's not terribly attractive, but then no one comes into sight who adds to the picture except some older fellows who seem content to leave me alone, which is fine with me. During the first intermission, the guy on the right continually plays with himself, jittering his left knee up and down as he runs his hand caressingly over a large lump in his crotch, and I see by the skin-tightness of the blue jeans over muscled thighs that I'd misjudged him from a distance, and I'd like to play with those thighs and that packed crotch. So when the lights go out I slide over next to him and move my hand across, to be met with an elbow barrier. I'm surprised, but think he may only be playing hard to get, so a few minutes later I move my hand across again, and again he thwarts me. Who needs this? So I move away and scout around the other people sitting in the back, but there's really no one I consider interesting. Sit on the right side of the right section, and people come and go, but still no one interesting until well into the last film, and someone sits next to me, plays with himself convincingly, and I start playing with him and he with me, and it's lots of fun, so much fun, in fact, that a very tall fellow that I'd overlooked because I thought he was too cruddy came over and sat two seats away from the fellow I was playing with. This excited the fellow I was playing with, and he started stroking away at me harder and harder, and kept restraining my hand on his cock, which was pleasantly sized and shaped, with the fun fold of uncircumcised skin to play with. He stopped me again and again, rolling his eyes around to convince me that he was just on the brink of coming, and this made me get quite hard, and we enjoyed playing with each other, even though he was a bit older than I preferred. Finally he pushed my hand away forcibly and then pressed himself into his stomach, and then pumped his crotch a few times and pulled out a handkerchief with which he started wiping himself off, and though I never had positive sensations of wetness, I guess he came, because when I reached back down, he was in a softening stage. But a fourth fellow had moved in next to the tall crewcut blond, and in the shadows of the back row I saw the dull glow of this enormous cock being held up in the air, beautifully curved and fully erect, prodding from the open crotch of the tall blond. How had I overlooked him?! The tall blond seemed to enjoy being the center of attraction, and reached over to my partner as he reached over to put his hands around that upstanding cock. I hung forward in my seat to watch, and the far fourth fellow bent over to do the blond, and his head preened up and back and his mouth sagged open slightly and he rolled his head back and forth and looked over toward me with such a stare of utter voluptuousness that I couldn't resist reaching around the fellow between us and touching what I could of his cock. He began restraining the fellow's head from its sucking, and his tongue gently wiped his lips and his eyes remained fixed on me as his hand reached over to try to touch me. I nudged the fellow next to me into the vacant seat between the straining pairs, and I could more easily reach over and touch this pink pillar of flesh more closely. The poor fellow between the blond and me got increasingly squeezed out as the blond reached over to tweak my erection, and I felt around the back to his thin neck and roamed up and down his smooth pale body, exposed under his down-pulled pants and up-pulled sweater. He kept restraining the fellow doing him just at the point of coming, and every evidence of extreme sexual arousal was present in his face except the curl of saliva dripping unchecked from the corner of his mouth. I couldn't take it any longer and requested that I change seats with the fellow next to me, and he gracefully permitted it. I moved over next and immediately started kissing, since he had exchanged a few kisses with the fellow on his left earlier, and I thought it was too much to get an affectionate person with his rough Tom-like face with its square jaw and fuzzy blond mustache. But the head didn't easily come toward mine, and the kisses were ineffectual and uneasy, so I quickly stopped to merely look at that large handsome face not six inches from mine as it moved through its motions of pleasure and mingled pain. When the other fellow withdrew from his cock, the blond urged me with his eyes to go down on him, though I can't explain how, though it may have contained a brief glance down at his straining cock, a small pressure on the back of my neck, a slight thrust upward of his pelvis in my clutching hand; nevertheless and howsomeever, I eventually went down on him, and was delighted to find a veined, stiff, full-headed cock filling my mouth to capacity. He moved sensually in his seat, and enjoyed the sensation of my stroking his loose balls and feeling the soft flesh of the upper parts of his legs, but then his forceful hands insert themselves between his legs and my face and gently but firmly pull my head away from his throbbing penis, messing up my glasses, and I come back up to reach under his sweater and tweak his nipples and his eyes half-close and his lips move in a way that make the most sexual effect possibly. He's holding onto my stiff cock, too, the fellow on the right is forgotten, and the fellow on the left and I exchange smiling glances of "Do you believe THIS?" When he seems aroused but not close to coming, I go down on him again, and again he suffers me to suck until it's too much, and I come up again, nuzzling in his neck, and he comes close and whispers, "Why don't we meet in the john after the movie's over?" I debate furiously for a moment, then whisper in return, "I've got to leave soon, can't stay to the end of the movie." There's nothing more said then, and the next time I go down on him, he momentarily tries to pull me away, but then the motion of his hand is reversed, and he puts his hand gently in my hair and pushes me down on his straining cock as he pumps upward from his seat, and I feel that last throb of blood engorging the cockhead, the veins stand out more than ever, making me feel that I'm abrading his sex-skin with the edges of my teeth, and he shoves his glans down into my throat as the cord at the back of the cock goes into a spasm, and another, and my fingers sense the semen ripping through the tortured channel, and I work my mouth back and forth, coming gradually up on his cock as the pressure from his hands increases, and I work it up and down so that I can swallow the saliva-like semen in my throat, then go down again as there's a macro-flurry of agitation above me as his hands and legs struggle for a new position in which to bear the sexual agony my mouth is causing him, and then his hands are urging me away from his frenzied cock, which has pumped its last jet into my gullet, and I suck the last bit of slime away from his slit and sit up in my chair, breathing hard, surreptitiously wiping away shiny cream from the corners of my lips. The look was still in his eyes, and I leaned close and asked if he came to the movies often: "No," and then if he saw people outside the movies: "No," and that seemed to be all there was, so I left for Mattachine. Forgot that I had THREE come in my mouth, so there was the blond, one I don't clearly remember, and the one earlier, who seemed fairly straight, and when I went to the john to try to attract another fellow down, HE came down, urinated, flopped his cock around and around and around, until I felt twinges myself, and I stood close in him drying my hands, and he turned just a bit, and I reached out to touch him, and then went into the john, where I took him out and sucked and sucked on his large cock, very aware of the blood from my gums on his slippery shaft, and I used my fingers to cover the bubbly pink fluids while trying vaguely not to wet and color his undershorts. He stood gracelessly by as I pumped away, hardly taking time to regard his large headed cock and smooth shaft, sucking and jerking away until he stiffened barely perceptibly and came, shot quite a load into my mouth, and it was quickly over and he withdrew with a little grunt of "That's enough" tone, and without thinking what I might think about it, got a piece of toilet paper from the roll to wipe his cock before putting it back, and even without looking at his face or exchanging any kind of civility, I was out of the john, breathing hard but thankful no one had come in to see two pairs of legs dangling beneath one john partition, most embarrassingly.


DIARY 2559


This time I get there right at the dot of 1, and there's no one in the balcony except me, so I sit on the side in the darkness. There are few people wandering around, but I really can't get into the "Clowns" and then someone fairly young sits down beside me and I move over next to him, and out comes another exceptionally hard cock. He takes me out too, and we have a great time because there's no one coming up and down the aisles bothering us, and we get all gummed up from saliva and from our mouths, and he's really getting through to me, whacking away and looking carefully at me, and I'm pumping away on him, disappointed that his body seems very fleshy for his youthful head, and I'm not interested in exploring more, though his hands come around and try my neck and reach into my shirt to feel my pectorals. Then he begins stopping me, and I keep working at him, and he's flailing away even harder with me, and I can't figure what he wants other than for me to come all over myself, and I keep working away at him, and he comes close and whispers "I don't want to come." So I shrug and cool my motions a bit, but then he keeps jerking himself away and holding onto himself, and I'm getting very hard, and then he says to me, "Will you go down on me?" I don't say anything the next moment, because my mouth is then full of his cock, and he relaxes into an orgasm, again thrusting upward into my mouth, so deeply that I actually can't tell if he's come or not, but then he quickly goes down, and he pushes me away, and very quickly he's into his jacket and gone down to the john, since he's back in about half an hour. I figure this is the start of lots of activity, but others come to sit next to me who aren't interesting, and then the big Charleton Heston type starts cruising around the back, and I'm mightily distracted trying to attract him into sitting next to me. Finally he does, and I reach over and he's got a nice cock, and he likes fooling around with my chest and arms, and I keep playing with him and playing with him, but finally I'm not hard anymore and he's beginning to go soft, and we sit next to each other sort of gently rubbing our legs, because I find him very sexy, but then he moves away. During the fairly boring "La Strada," since I'd just seen it recently, I moved around the back, trying to get some other things going, but there were a number of blacks in the audience who looked more menacing than inviting, and the sections were getting rather crowded, so I simply sat down and started enjoying the shows. But again I got bored and wandered around, rubbing myself, trying to get people to come over to me, but no one seemed to care to, and the same scruffy fellow with the shaggy mustache and the knit cap kept wandering up and down the aisles and sitting next to me, and I really didn't care for him, so since he never made any overt motions toward me, I simply ignored him. Musical chairs went on for a number of minutes more, and then I found myself again sitting next to the Charlton Heston-type, and I went over to play with him again, but he sort of let me fondle his crotch, but then he decided to watch the show and put his legs up so that I couldn't get close to him, and someone else had sat down on the aisle seat, and I figured maybe they wanted to be alone together, so I moved away into the center section, and though I watched them for the rest of the time, they didn't get together, and no amount of looking at the cute one as I was leaving sufficed to get him to follow me. Maybe I shouldn't have told so many people about the place, because it seems to be getting to a rather sad state: everyone comes expecting to play with everyone else, and certainly there's a lot less romanticizing going on in the place: it's strictly cock-touching and sucking and that's all, with very little affection thrown in, mainly because there are so many people, so many distractions, and so many lights on in the back, limiting the heavy action to the right side, though I tried sitting on the left, but found the bright yellow lights of the side very distracting, and no one would ever sit next to me if I were sitting there. There were still many straight people in the other part of the balcony, and the guy kept coming up and down the ladder to the projection booth, but no one seemed to mind all the sex-play going on in the back of the theater, giving a hopefully true illusion of safety.


DIARY 2566


First, as to the movies: "Variety Lights" was the tired story of a fame-hungry girl who makes a fool out of Giulietta Messina's husband, steps on everyone, then gets a break and goes on to big things while the husband goes back to Messina and promptly goes after another girl. Giulietta is the saver, as she was in Cabiria, and tried to look pretty, which didn't go as well as when she tried to look funny, as she did later. "White Sheik" held together far better for me this time, with the wife chasing after her photographic-romance hero and the husband trying desperately to keep his family ignorant of her absence. "I Vitelloni" was frustrating with the spoiled-brat hero marrying, cheating on the side, stealing, chasing after his deserting wife, then breaking into tears and reforming, and Messina showed up as Cabiria. Only in "White Sheik" did Fellini indulge his penchant for odd people. Now, to the primary sex. The back rows started out fairly full, and people moved around more than any other time, with the darkness at the very back getting the majority of the activity in the beginning, with the clear clinking sound of belt buckles and zippers sounding through the silent theater. No one looked appealing until about the third movie, when I was getting desperate, and I moved next to a slight black boy with a large display down one leg, and I sat next to him to feel his meaty leg and then his even meatier cock, taking it out and playing with it in the light from the center aisle, finally going down on it, hoping that he would have the wit to take me back up if someone came up the stairs. He came deep in my throat, and I suspect he probably had come two or three times earlier, so there wasn't much to swallow, but he was wet from it afterwards and went down, so at least he had an orgasm. Then he started playing with my fingers and hands, and we sat together dawdling quite awhile, until he began to feel me up again, and I didn't feel like getting hard, so I patted him on the shoulder and moved away. Since it was so crowded, there were few places to move to, and I stood in the back to watch the two on the extreme left holding hands across an empty seat, the middle one lovely in flowing hair and long shiny boots, but they didn't even look around at me. A tight-trousered fellow stood also in the back, but HE refused to look at me. On the left there were two sitting on the side aisle who looked longly into each other's eyes and kissed, caressing all their bodies, and I envied them, because that's just what I would like to be doing, but had no one to do it with. Played with an older fellow earlier, but after playing and playing and playing, we just both got soft and finally I moved up and away. Then an enormous black sat down, and I thought to ignore him, but I just couldn't, and started playing with myself, and he started feeling HIMself, so I moved next to him and felt this thick dark scimitar between his legs, and quickly felt it up and he unzipped his flannel-feeling jumpsuit and this enormous member stuck up into the air. Played with it with saliva-wet hand, and it had a huge head and satisfying shaft, but then he started playing with me and I just didn't feel like coming up, so he gradually, very gradually, began to go down, and I didn't feel like sucking on him, so we just desultorily played with each other until someone came up the aisle, giving both of us an excuse to zip up and move away. After the movie ended, I moved out with a pat of his chest, and it was hopelessly overweight. So the place is going downhill rapidly: filling up with older fatter people who aren't that interesting, but who are eager to take advantage of whoever's there who's younger, and taking places up so that there's not as much opportunity for activity. At one point there were 15 people across the back row, and that's just not enough empty seats to do anything with a feeling of privacy. For those who like eyes boring into them as they have sex, it's a perfect setup, but not for me. A few guys were sitting in the NEXT to the last row that I couldn't figure out: they didn't seem to rub themselves, but they were certainly conscious of the movement around them. It seems a bit ripe for a raid, and I'm glad there aren't any more films that I want to see at the Elgin until the end of the Truffaut festival on January 12. Hopefully, things will have changed for the better by then.


DIARY 2644


Get there at 2:10 just as "Les Mistons" has started, and since I've seen it, I look around for activity, but there are few people, both of them awful in the dimness, and I sit one in from the aisle on the right side and look over at the large-legged, and sadly large-stomached, guy down at the end, and when nothing happens he leaves and someone ELSE sits down there, but he's nothing to rave about, and there are other lovelies wandering around the back, but they come over and see who's there, then they go off to the RIGHT side, and I trace two and even three nice ones over there, and it might be that THAT'S now the side to do it on, since they're quite nice over there in the brighter lights. Then "The Wild Child" starts and I'm quite interested in it, so I just keep track of what's going on, but I don't put myself out to come in contact with anyone, and no one volunteers to come to me. Then look back and there's the same fellow from before, whom I come home to search through the files for, and I met him on Thursday, April 23, his name is Larry Schecter, and I kept his phone number, which is a blessing. He leans against the side wall and people will sidle back into the corner. Then he'll move slowly back and they'll move slowly forward until they meet against the side wall, and it seems that they're screwing him from the back, since he stands there with his jacket around his middle and there's the tinkle of belt buckles and the zap of zippers in the silences of the film, yet none of them takes him from the front, with those glorious hard pectorals, achingly touchable tiny waist and muscled legs, and lovely pliant cock. The first seems to leave and another takes over, and all the activity seems to be in that back corner, stopping with a jolt when someone comes up the stairs, since they're far more visible against the wall then in the seats. Other lovelies observe and it's too much for them, but they still avoid me and sit in other sections. Then someone sits between me and the fellow near the wall, and he's old and awful, taking the side out of action completely. Some cuties sit in the row NEXT to the top, making it hard to see if they're straight or gay, and the third or fourth person has at Larry's lovely ass, and I'm amazed that (as I look at it) he values himself at such a LOW value that his ass is the only part of him worth offering to others. When "The Wild Child" is over, I can't resist, so I move to stand in the back, and he comes over, along with a few others, and I figure no one's going to rat, so I move right up to him and reach around for his chest. There it is in all its glory, as he flexes so that I feel his hardness, and then move down to his soft cock, and he moves my hand away, but comes around his side to feel MY hardness through my blue trousers, but he won't turn around for necking. We play and then someone comes up the steps and he moves away, and he'd unzipped me and taken me out, and I have to put myself away. He stays away and there's another chesty guy standing there butchly, so I reach for him and his buttons are so used that they pop immediately so that I can feel his barrel chest and hairy skin, and though he also feels down for my cock, and his is accessible with more difficulty through his tight trousers, but we don't click and finally HE moves away. By this time Larry's taken the seat on the AISLE, and I debate that he did it because he knew I was sitting in the NEXT seat, with my coat still there, so I crawl across him and sit in my old seat, and can't resist reaching across when the knees press. He has drawn his tee shirt up over his nipples, and I rub my hands back and forth, back and forth over the lovely surfaces, and my other hand reaches for his hardening cock down his leg, and he reaches for me, and we rock back and forth, feeling great, as "Les Mistons" comes to another end, and I lean across to whisper "Would you come home with me?" He says he has to get home soon and can't, and I mumble something unintelligible about "The third time being the charm" since I'd met him there once before and he said he wouldn't see me, but he didn't respond. I got up and left, hoping he'd follow, but he didn't. Later, at Mattachine, I phoned him, he said he was free on Thursdays (GO TO ELGIN ON THURSDAYS!), and now "has a friend," and I said I'd call again in a couple of months to see if he was available. YUM!


DIARY 2666


There's NO one in the back row when I get upstairs, "Pop" already started, and after a bit straight people keep coming up, and then someone fiercely mustached sits on the aisle across from me, but then a whole group of non-gay smokers take up the top section on the left side, and things get pretty uptight, especially since the usher keeps walking through, insisting that everyone sit down. A few more people come in, and some sit fairly near me, but they're awful, and finally a lovely big blond sits near the center aisle, the mustache begins making erections at him, and musical chairs begins. I think blond is looking at me, I get up and cross over him to sit near him, he leaves, goes to side, mustache joins him, someone awful sits near me, I move over next to end, lovely boy comes past, sits in middle, I move next to him, he moves, I move back, he sits at extreme side, blond leaves, two other blonds come, and what starts seated in 1-4-6 goes to 2-4-6, then 3-4-6, then 3-5-6, but it doesn't appear the blond and the doll do anything, then the doll moves down a row, everyone in the back row leaves, he moves BACK to back row. In between here there's varying amounts of activity along the back wall, but except for the doll, nothing happens around me until a large brown-sweatered fellow sits two seats down from me, looking at me sternly, feeling himself as I feel myself, and when I sit next to him and he reaches over for me, and I reach over for him, he unzips, and pulls out the familiar large-headed stiff cock, I recognize him as the fellow who loves to strip to below the knees and all the way up to caress over the seats and kiss and work over the cocks until both of us are ready to explode with tensions. But there are a straight guy and gal sitting RIGHT in front of us, and the girl keeps looking over to her date, and I swear she can see what we're doing, but she doesn't let on. We get coats over our laps, and he unbuckles his trousers and actually slips them way down, so that I have completely free play over his thighs and flanks and stomach, which sticks out a great deal when he doesn't bother to pull it in. He permits me to undo myself, and spits on his palm and really gets me enormously hard, partly thanks to his closing eyes and pursed lips and restraining hand which makes it clear to me that his stiff cock is just about ready to come. He works over me till I'm feeling good, but I don't feel like coming over myself, so I start biting my lips and closing my eyes and stopping HIS hand, and we stare bedroomily back and forth at each other, forgetting the boring "Don't Look Back," but constantly having to adjust coats and move hands and heads back to normal when people, ushers, cruisers pass by on the sides and in back. He keeps pushing his trousers down further and further, trying to get mine down as far so we can rub thighs together, and when I grab his cock for about the fifth time, he starts kissing my elbow passionately, and we lean closer and closer together as we get more and more hot, and even kiss for a mad moment, except that neither of us can watch out at that moment, and I pull apart, whispering "There's too many people." He seems to want me to come, and I surely want him to come, but he keeps restraining me, but I keep at it until his hand is just too late, and rather than pulling me away he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, pressing my hand down on his erection, and it throbs and spurts and throws sperm onto his stomach in a fluid stream that goes on and on, stopping only to have the lovely spasms continue as I slosh around in his come. He shakes his head and gets out his handkerchief to mop up the damage, and he tries to get me to come, but I'm down by now, and I use the excuse of people passing by to zip up. He does, too, and we sit rubbing knees and holding legs, and he's been interested in getting into my ass, which I don't care for, and I move around behind him to squeeze both tits and hold him from the back, which feels good, but then when I run my hand lower, he's eager to undo his trousers again to permit me free play with his ass, which I don't care for, so I wave the situation away. I suppose this is ONE case where I PREFER the theater, since he definitely seems to be an ass man, as much as he enjoys the front of things, and going to someone's apartment would only give him the OPPORTUNITY to indulge himself, which I wouldn't like. So it stays in the Elgin.


DIARY 2676


Get in while it's still light, and NO one's there, I don't think, until someone comes up the aisle and sits a few down from me on the right middle side, but there was the fat fellow in the extreme corner all along. The fellow next to me is balding though young, with a nice face in the match-flare, and he plays with himself on his thick leg as I look over, so I'm next to him and play, but he wants me to be hard, too, which I eventually become, but playing with him and playing with him isn't too interesting for either of us, so finally his thin short hard cock starts going down and he zips up and moves away, looking for fresh activity. Someone joins the fellow in the corner, but then moves away, and I decide "What the hell?" and sit next to him, where he's propped in a bridge over the seat below him. He's terribly fat, but he isn't demanding of me, and his cock is somewhat bigger and quite ready to come, so I moisten his perfumed member and whack away at him as the balcony gradually fills up, and he comes with a series of hard breaths, filling the flabby depression around his navel, and I wipe my right hand on the seat as best I can, and then grab my coat and pay a visit down to the john, where there's no one at this time. Back up and sit down for a long wait, and another mustache sits next to me, showing a nice bulge, and I'm next to him and he, also, sadly, has a great deal of excess flesh, and I play with his cock until he stops me, then sits forward and I take the hint and run my hands up his back and around in his sloppy thick sweater to squeeze his tits and palpate what's left of what could have been nice muscles. He keeps staring at my face, and I can't figure what he wants, and play with his cock again, but he keeps stopping me, and finally he zips up and pulls away, and though I ask him "What's the deal?" he remains wordless and leaves. A thin fellow with glasses and a white sweater comes cruising past, but doesn't stop, and then some awful fat guy sits next to me and I go over to the far left side, where the glassed-one joins me, but though I play and play with myself, he doesn't come over, and finally leaves, making me wonder what the hell he actually wanted. Back down to the john, and there are two in the cabinets and glasses is pissing, and I find it a great charge looking at his large cock trying to squeeze out the piss between bouts of fuller erection, but he doesn't look at me, waiting ostentatiously around for one or the other of the johns, and I wash my hands again and leave (this is actually AFTER the next come). There are lots more musical chairs, though this time the usher doesn't come around to enforce seating, though the balcony is reasonably full as it is, and a lovely sits in the NEXT to top row, and glasses cruises him but doesn't get anywhere, I don't think. Then someone rather plumpish comes past and we exchange looks, and then he's at the center aisle, so I move in next to him and we greet first with the hands, which is a difference, and I'm for his cock and he takes it all out, and he's playing with me and I with him, though there are lots of people passing by, many of them straight, sadly, who look more than once before going down to the front for a smoking seat, and Bob's very taken with me, asking if I have a place to go, and I say I don't, having a roommate who's "sort of" a lover, and HE has no place to go, except to drop coins into the parking meter every so often, and he finally lets me do him by hand, wincing and straining around as a bit of sticky stuff comes out, and he so enjoys my hands on his chest and arms, I leave my hand inside until he's completely soft, then wipe my LEFT hand on the seat, and we continue to sit together, he's a bug on serials, telling about the "cheapie" chapters, coming about 7 or 8, where there are lengthy flashbacks, being down to the real story for another cliffhanger, and he collects endings, and talks rather sadistically about "cremations, drowning, burnings, and cutting and shooting ups," that happen in the other Republic serials, and the amount of furniture splintered, the stock footage used again and again, particularly the seven Zorro reruns, even this without the name, and we walk down to 14th Street together to get him a paper, and I'm sure he'd like to go further, but we won't. Others appeared, undone, later in the film, and it looked to be a groovy audience even into the evening today.


DIARY 2684


Again sit in the back, this time in the third-last row, just to see what's going on, and when two gals sit in the row behind me and start chattering, I decide to go to the john and move into the back row just to make it official. Lots of groovy guys there with gals during the intermissions, and there are a few glances as guys go to the john, but nothing of real note until a largish fellow posts himself behind the railing and sort of keeps on looking at me, and finally sits in the aisle seat across the row from me. I decide to act the hussy and keep feeling myself, and he looks across again and again, as if puzzled by what I'm doing, and I get more and more brazen and finally he slips over with a blank seat between, though putting his coat on that one. I look over at him and he at me, but he only consents to rest his hands on his crotch. During the last intermission we chat about "Marat/Sade," but his conversation is so inane and his face is so large and stupid I almost give him up. But then he sort of takes over the initiative of looking over at me, and he very slowly starts moving his hands over his crotch, so I go into overdrive, taking my coat and putting it across my lap, unzipping, taking myself out, and playing with myself just out of view. He seems flabbergasted and finally moves next to me: "Would you like to go someplace?" he asks in a hoarse whisper, and I laugh and say I have to leave in about a half-hour, and when I find he lives in Queens, it's obviously impossible, so I put myself back in a zip up, while he continues to sit next to me, looking big and teddy-beary and puzzled. (Hm, 9 Z's in the last 15 lines, or 10 in 16, even 11 in 16, counting THIS "z".) I move my hand to his leg and play with the bulk within, but he doesn't move an inch, though our legs are comfortably resting together and our chests are so big that they contact at points. We remain sitting closely together until a bit past the point that I came in on, and then I stand and put on my coat as I feel his eyes boring into the backs of my trousers, and then I push across his legs while he still looks at me, as if expecting something, yet not knowing what to do to get it, and I leave, having started it.


DIARY 2709


There were scattered uglies sitting along the back row, and I sat in the little-vacant side section alone until an enormous fellow with a beard sat two seats down from me and started playing with himself. Usually I don't like them that gross, but there seemed little other activity, it was action at very little cost to myself, and he DID seem to be playing nicely with himself, and I figured such a large man would have a large cock. So I moved over and reached for him, to find a small, stubby protuberance with a lot of uncircumcised flesh around the end, heightened by the inner presence of some kind of ring, which I guess he kept between the head of his cock and his prepuce when he was soft, but after he got hard, it vanished. He also had a ring around his cock and balls, and I enjoyed feeling him up while he got rock hard, and then played with the tip of his cock, enjoying the swatch of skin from the underside of his head down to the tight sheath around his cock, which almost audibly blipped over the rim of his rock-cock. He wanted to play with me, but I was quite soft, adamantly so when he reached down and started doing something with my balls, and I reached down to find a series of turns of elastic around my balls, which he wanted to play with, but I stopped him from being too rough. So much time without real activity permitted even him to go down briefly, except that I could always get him to rise to full strength by playing with his prostate. But the bands around the balls were worst, so that I didn't come up even during the erotic black and white ballet. Foresaw the intermission and got the bands off, then left into the center section, where surprisingly there was no more activity for the entire two remaining films. There was a sturdy mustached fellow in tie-dyed jeans who seemed agreeable in the john and in the seat, but he never touched himself and moved away from me. A very tall beautiful black sat in the center section, but I was quite sure he was straight: never touching himself, never looking around at me touching MYSELF, and with the loads of OTHER straight people in the audience, balcony, even back row, I was sorry to experience the new limited-action popularity of the Elgin.


DIARY 2729



Though there are a couple of cute guys on the stairway, they're certainly not in the back row, which is somewhat over half-full, looking funny, with the rest of the theater about 1/8 occupied. John plows right into the last row, between two awful people, and I content myself with the next-last row until someone leaves, leaving three consecutive vacant seats, and I crawl over the chairs to take the middle one. Quickly someone comes in the seat between me and the almost passable one to my left, and without any qualms whatsoever he reaches over, caresses the side of his head, kisses him on the neck, while the guy two rows forward stares back at them, and tries to twist his face around to kiss his lips, but the fellow turns his head determinedly away, and I can see his hands pushing away the other guy's hands, but they keep coming on, and when he escapes by moving forward in his seat, he and John share the duty of playing with his back under his shirt. Two fellows sit right in front of me, and though one used to be a muscle builder, he's now grown grossly to fat, but still the wide shoulders and taper of the latissimus dorsi, enormously thickened and tapering make him a figure that holds attraction for me, and he rubs his bulgy crotch for the edification of the mousy fellow in tweeds just in front of me, who rubs his crotch even though it obviously has the smallest erection in the world, or none. They sit together and get nowhere, and others come up and down the aisles, but there seems to be not much groping in the back row, and the only GOOD-looking fellow is four rows down, not having anything to do with anybody. There's much head craning whenever anyone comes and goes, and much squinting up through glass-less eyes from the stairway to the balcony, but even busy John doesn't seem to be making out too well, people moving away from him as fast as they come in, and everyone continually looking at everyone else is quite a put-off. The laughing during the birth scene, from stupid blacks in the front of the balcony, gave me the idea I'd like to torture them slowly, and let their FRIENDS laugh at the film of THAT. And the roar that went up when Murray Head and Peter Finch clinched made me absolutely believe that they CAME to a movie without knowing what it was ABOUT.


DIARY 2796


Some old man was in the back row, and only a sharply-staring character in the last seat across the aisle looked possible, so I sat in the third row from the top. During the first intermission the old man left and the wide-eyed fellow moved across, so I figured "Let's see what'll happen," and I climbed across two rows of chairs, surprised at my heaving chest and pounding heart from such a tiny exertion. He kept looking over at me, but I figured he was so low on my scale of attractiveness that he could do all the work, so I merely sat with my crotch properly displayed, while he continued to gape at me. When I looked over to investigate a flurry of motion, I saw that he was playing with himself, but I couldn't see anything in the darkness. It seemed he'd NEVER make a move, so I put down the seat between us, and still he didn't move. So I reached across, and he moved his hand away so that I could feel the blunt straining at the inside of his shorts, but when I went to get through the shorts, he moved my hand back to the blunt prow of his cock inside the material. I moved it gently back and forth, moving down to massage the large mass of prostate, and then back to tweak the top when, to my surprise, there was a spot of moisture that rapidly grew until the whole head was enveloped in a sticky moistness that began seeping through the cloth, so I continued to move it back and forth, seeming to feel the uncircumcised head moving about inside, until he went quite down and the dancer-assed ticket taker moved past on the aisle and I took the opportunity to move my fingers away. He waited a bit, but then when I didn't return, he adjusted himself somewhat, my fingers dried, and he sat stolidly, not looking at me anymore, until I left. I'd filled about a dozen celery stalks with cream before I remembered, with an embarrassed smile that I communicated to John, that I hadn't washed my hands of this stranger's semen, and thus tiny fragments of sperm were being transferred into the mouths of these unsuspecting women guests. What a fetching thought, though I was quite convinced that the absolute DRYING of my fingers in the theater would have killed absolutely anything pathogenic---I hope.


DIARY 2844


Though in the recent past the back row had been getting too blatantly open and filled with undesirables more interested in sex than in the movies, this afternoon returned to the scattered watchers who could be involved in sex if the right moves were made. There were four or five across the back, but they didn't look interesting, so I moved into the vacant right side section, and very soon a lovely bushy-haired blond with a violet knit sweater that showed nice anatomical features sat on the aisle. I patted the seat next to me absently, but he didn't seem interested in moving in, so I moved next to him, and he glanced at me and held himself open. I played with his lump through his trousers, and then he unzipped himself and I could feel his nice cock resting on his pubic hair, and then he went to undo his belt and I decidedly motioned him away from the aisle, and he followed. He was interested in me, too, so I slid my shorts below my crotch and allowed him to get me out, and he waved me around in the air while I squeezed him and felt around his body. He had one of the largest areas between the base of his cock and the opening of his anus of anyone I'd felt, and he obviously enjoyed my massaging it, because he slid down the chair into it and tried the same thing on me, but I wasn't interested in it, and concentrated on him. His face was pleasant to watch in the flickers of light from the screen, and he began closing his eyes halfway when I rubbed him with moistened palm, and the head became so rounded and lickable that I couldn't resist, and went down on his uncircumcised head. He thrust himself further down and caressed my ears and neck, and I palpated his prostate and slowly ingested his cock as he got harder and harder. I made no noise at all, and he pushed himself more insistently into my mouth, and finally he jerked upward and I could feel the spill of seed in my mouth, and I drew back to enjoy the texture and warmth of his fluid, and he jerked around a bit, then started drawing me off, and I felt the bulge in his groin vanish, and then he zipped himself up and nodded to me, and then quickly left, even before the end of the feature he couldn't have seen the beginning of (unless he came before and had seem it ALL), so it was just another jerk-off call at the Elgin. Then an old fart sat next to me and started encroaching on the vacant seat between us with knee and hand, so I moved away into the center section. There were a couple of nice ones there, but the dark-haired Italian type seemed to move away from everyone who sat near him, and I was no exception. The old guy left and I moved back into the right, next to a guy with enormous thighs, round glasses and a full head of hair. He left, then came back to sit RIGHT next to me, which I felt was a sure sign, but he promptly put his feet up on the back of the seat ahead, which seemed to me to block contact. Maybe he was offering his ass. I watched him, but he didn't even glance at me, nor look at my attemptedly seductive hands running along my legs. Finally, when he crossed his legs away from me, showing a slabby expanse of right thigh, I could resist no longer, even though all the indications were wrong, so I boldly reached over and ran a fingernail down the length of his leg. With no pause or look, he lowered his leg and pressed it against mine, and I felt the masses of his thigh under my gripping fingers, and made my way to his crotch, where there was an extremely tightly packed bundle, and I reached through the buttons of his fly to feel the limp cylinder within. He seemed to want to give me more room, so I unbuttoned a few buttons and extracted his tiny cock, and then undid the rest and tried to lower his trousers, but the fit was so exact that there was only enough room for me to reach inside and run down the sides of his hairy legs, and then I went to his body under his sweater, and it was hairy and wonderfully muscled, though the skin was so soft that there was lots of looseness. He was playing with my crotch at the same time, but I wasn't getting hard, so neither was he, as much as I played with him. I reached around and pried upward with my left hand to his left nipple, and this semi-caress seemed to entice him more, and he began getting slowly harder. I so enjoyed the touch of his massive body and legs that I played around a bit longer, and [and ANOTHER old typewriter ribbon bites the dust!] began encircling the base of his cock firmly with my fingers, pulling the blood up into the organ, and this succeeded in making him somewhat hard. I kept playing with his legs and body, but if I once left his cock, he began to go down, so there was only one thing left to do: I went down on him. He immediately appreciated my gesture, because he grew quite hard in my mouth while not growing so large as to cause me discomfort. I still kept one hand around his back, feeling his incredibly soft skin, but my touch on his cock was more than he could bare and, really too soon, he shot into my mouth, and I stayed down on him until he again dwindled down to nothing, and he pulled me off and I placed my hand over his damp warm genitals until someone came up the stairway and he pulled his trousers up and re-buttoned his fly. I still liked his body, so I continued to play with it through the film, especially enjoying the bulk and tensions in his legs. Then he got up to leave, and I went down to the john to put myself back in order, and there was some lingerer in the john across from the sink who sat and sat, but I was encouraged by the sound of flushing from the other john, so I stood and ever so gently tapped my foot against the floor until there was the repeated flushing of the same john and an old, seemingly straight, fellow came out of the john and I went in to piss and pull my damp and wrinkled shorts up around my ass and zipper my trousers neatly atop them, waiting for the urinator who seemed to take ages to finish, looking at the cones of white paper which served to block the glory holes between the johns, and then I left the john to see a couple of observers in the lounge watching who was coming in and out. I went out to get some new programs from the lobby, and as usual there were a greater number of sexy guys coming in or going out than ever seemed to make it to the top row of the balcony, but I've even had reports from gay friends that they had no idea the balcony was so wild, and they went to the Elgin all the time. I was glad to see it revert to a kind of wide-spaced innocence for this particular time.


DIARY 2860


I tried the back of the orchestra, but nothing was doing down there. Then upstairs to the john (since the movie was so boring it permitted it easily) and there was no one inside. Hung around the back to see a guy in the corner, and again there was no sign of gayness, he simply stared at the screen and put his hands on his crotch. After what seemed like hours he seemed to be rubbing himself, so I sat next to him and reached over for him. Quite quickly he pulled his pants down, but when I went for his limp cock, he pushed my hand down and down until my forefinger was literally rammed up his ass. This sort of thing I really don't care for, so I sat rather apathetically while he squirmed on my non-dexterous petard, and then I realized how stupid it was and started playing with his uncut cock, but absolutely nothing happened with him, even when he started playing with himself. So I moved away to check out the guy in the OTHER corner, but he wouldn't even look at me. So I sat in the center section and watched the straight guys from the orchestra go in and out of the john. Ass-man came over and sat near the other fellow, but though they looked and looked, there was no action at all. Finally ass-man came back to sit next to me, but I contented myself to feel up and down his leg, and he wasn't interested in even touching me, so we sat just moving our legs back and forth against each other. Then he wanted to hold hands, and I was impressed with the youthful softness of his hands, and thought something could happen with that, but though we clutched and fondled and grappled and tweaked fingers and clasped palms, neither of us got excited, though we enjoyed twisting in our seats to see what else was going past: plenty past, but nothing happening, and then he moved away, in and out of the john, and by that time the movie was about over and I went downstairs to see the last few minutes and noticed ass-man waiting in the darkness for the next film to start, obviously moving down to the orchestra to watch the movie, though there was hardly what could be called excessive diversion in the balcony. There have been, and I hope there WILL be, better days at the New Yorker.


DIARY 2890


Being the evening, the theater is quite a bit more crowded at 6 pm than it is during the afternoon, and as a result there's lots of sitting around and looking at each other without concomitant activity. I started over on the extreme right, but some awful old and fat people seemed to monopolize that area, and even when an Afroed black sat next to me, he put up his knee so that I couldn't do anything with him, though later he said that there had been a cop sitting in front of the balcony watching him, even though the cop was cruising himself. I moved into the center next to a doll with VERY tight faded blue jeans and a long sausage down one leg, but he didn't look at me at all, merely stretched out his elegant long legs, and then a friend joined him and I felt even more out of place. Finally the right side of the right center section was free, and I moved into my favorite seat, and quickly the black sat down next to me, and we started in on each other. He whispered that he thought I was about 15 or 16 the first time he saw me, and this is the first time my age has been estimated at HALF what it really is. A new record! I reached in for him, and he kept holding onto his very copious foreskin, and when he started groaning when I was playing with what seemed like a stubby cock, I just assumed he'd come and kept the whole emission imprisoned in his prepuce, but later when I went down on him, finding that the excess skin folded nicely out of the way when he wanted it to, I found there was absolutely no odor or taste of a previous come, so I went down with pleasure and gulped up his come. We kept playing with each other, and he gradually (losing the stitch in his side) got more comfortable, letting me play with his round balls and getting so close that we almost kissed each other, and then he got harder and harder, and gasped again, and I went down on him AGAIN and he came again, to my great surprise, and then he started asking if he could come to my place, but I said I had a roommate, and he said he lived all the way up in White Plains, and I sympathized with his hour and a half trip each way. Then someone rather older came and sat next to me, getting a curious stare by a cutie in the row just ahead of us, with his coat spread over his lap, and I started playing with him, and he made no movement in my direction, so it was just another jerk-off call, and I played with him with pleasure, since his body was nicer than his head was, and he had a strange sternness about his face that made me think he was enjoying my roughness with him. When he started frowning more than ever, I decided I could go down on him, and did so, working for only a few moments, and he, too, came in my mouth, forcing me to hold my head still, while I tongued and toothed him until he jerked my head off, not being able to stand it anymore. He left quickly, and ANOTHER fellow came over to sit next to me, with an even wider-eyed appraisal by the fellow in front of me, and I was hoping he'd take the hint and come up, too. All this while there were straight people walking across the back, up the aisles, and we sometimes didn't even bother to completely hide the fact of limbs reaching from one body to another, and I was forced to the conclusion that they KNEW what was going on and simply didn't care. Even in the back corner, at one point there was a definite dog-fucking scene going on, with the pumping and screwing motions hard to avoid even out of the corners of the eyes, and then there was a threesome pyramid when two went down on the one wedged into the corner, and it seemed that no amount of quick maneuvering could conceal their presence when someone straight came up the aisle. The new guy sitting next to me was marvelously broad of back and narrow of hip, though he, too, was older, yet I ran my hands inside his shirt to feel his marvelous torso and pectorals, and got quite charged up about him, and played only a bit before going down on him, and had to stay down for maybe 30 seconds, unusually long, before he came off, enjoying every tingling second of it, while I enjoyed the pulses of the hard-veined cock in my mouth, marveling at the AMOUNT of activity even in the crowded theater. When he left, I tried touching the VERY big black sitting next to me, but he gave me a sort of half-dirty look and left, so it's possible that straight guys sit in the back row, too, but I felt very protein-nourished THAT night.


DIARY 2950


There's only one large older fellow a few seats toward the center from the right aisle, so I plunk myself down in the right side section, but the length of the two boring films, for one hour, produces nothing more of interest, so all I have to do is watch them. But after intermission comes a few more fellows, and there's a tall lanky fellow in tattered jeans who seems to be on the lookout for someone special, and a few other older people stake themselves out across the back, one in each section. Then, after "Saragossa Manuscript" starts and I get completely lost in the uninteresting sequences of stories, some older fellow sits down in the darkest corner and proceeds to play with himself. Cute he isn't, but I can't resist the sound of flesh on denim, so I slide over and grab him while he returns the favor to me, but when I take him out, he loses interest in me, and I play and play and play with his tiny cock, fearing to feel the fat at its base, and when he grows to hardest stiffness he retreats, quickly zips up, and leaves. Oh, well, he didn't want to come. There's a lovely guy in tan jeans that fit just below his epidermal layer, but he's not to be cajoled into sitting next to me. There's lot of activity going to and from the john, which I don't care for, so it seems that most things get done there. Then I decide to see what's going on at the other side, after some other awful fellow comes to sit next to me, and the fellow on the far side looks VERY old, and the young tattery one slouches across the back, lounges against the pillar, mildly thrusting his crotch back and forth, and then climbs over the seats to sit three down from me, palm fanned over crotch. I look over and he's certainly conscious of me, so I move to sit next to him, reaching over, and he immediately gathers up his coat and moves into the back. Big deal! When tan jeans starts in the back again, I go back and stand around, but nothing's doing back there either, so when everyone clears out of the right section, I sit back down in the middle of it, and a lovely cute black sits right at the aisle. He seems not to notice me, but his foot is coming closer and closer, and finally our feet touch and I move my toes up and down, but he still doesn't react. I try to move in closer, to get some leg contact, and HE gets up and leaves for downstairs. That IS the way it goes. I sit quietly as some others cruise up and across the back, but then the black comes back, surveys the audience, and crawls into the corner, stretching himself out AGAIN for my looking, this time looking over to me. In the half-light he's even more pretty in the face than Arthur Mitchell, and that's saying something. His foot is way out again, so I decide against the feetsy game again and move right in next to him. He gives me this long look, but I sit placidly looking at the confusing screen, and reach over to touch the stretch denim of his sleek black trousers. He moves toward me slightly, and I investigate, very slowly, his leg, moving up to his crotch, and his huge curved cock is pointed upward practically to his belt. How lovely! He quickly undoes himself, and his lovely cock is standing straight in the air, and he nervously looks to his left as I play with him, and he begins to frown and move his face around ever so slightly, so when I go for his balls again and the length of cock grows another inch, I go don on him, and hear a deep breath behind me. I use my fingers as wedges against the sides of his cock, sucking firmly and soundlessly on the bulbous head of his cock, uncut but very loose, and I run my tongue around the attachment of the prepuce to the head, and he squirms in his seat. His breathing becomes harder and harder, his cock follows, and then there's a squish of fluid in my mouth, and again and again, actually getting foamy, and I stay down on him until he seems to have spurted about six times, and then he violently pulls my head away, and before I know it he's zipped up and moved down the aisle and out the theater. Quite a do, and I have my daily diet of prostaglandins, read about just this morning in Scientific American. Then I hear the same tall fellow on the right aisle rubbing away at himself, and I decide I might as well have him, too, so I directly move next to him, and he pauses, legs askew on the seat in front of him, and I reach down to find a long soft member draped up one Greek's-fineline, and I rub it back and forth as he'd been doing, and I can feel a blade-like firmness begin to harden along one edge, and then I reach for HIS fly and he undoes himself at the belt so that I can reach in through numerous layers of clothing, the nearest to the cock being an undershirt and sloppy shorts, and there's a taut member that I can play with, and I proceed to rub away at it, and he sits stolidly in his seat, until I see his arm gently shaking back and forth, back and forth, and he ever-so-gently begins to follow my hand motion with his own hand, and before I quite realize it, he stops his hand, and there's the repeated pressures of jets of fluid against my fingers, and I moisten the round of his head and caress the whole of his cock with my creamed hand, and then he rather forces me out, does himself up, and HE leaves the theater. In the meantime, another largish fellow takes the corner seat, and I get up immediately after the fellow leaves and move down next to HIM, and he looks at me in some surprise, and his face bears a remarkable resemblance to Robert Mitchum's. He's not interested in playing with me, either, and I have free rein when he, quite uninterestedly, undoes his belt and takes his pants and shorts WAY down, amazing me, since an older straight couple has settled into the back row, necking like crazy. The fellow in the seat in front of us is very interested in the action, keeping looking over at me, but he's greasy and fat, and I'm not interested, but play with the Mitchum-resembler's squat cock until his head has swelled to about twice the diameter of the base, and he looks at me in a mixed glance of anger and "Well, what now?" and I go down on HIM, having to whack away a bit harder, maybe two dozen sucks, before that head puffs out even further, and he shoots into my mouth. Needless to add, he quickly does himself up and leaves, too. The fellow in front debates reaching around for my leg, but though he gets his hand down between the seats, he never touches me. Another tight-trousered guy is agreeable to me, but to my surprise he sits next to fatty in front of me, and they don't work out, so finally both of them leave. I sit in rather awed numb silence (oh, Mitchum was THROUGH the intermission, when I kept fondling his limp cock until the lights went out again), and leave.


DIARY 2982


The horrible cold fellow is taking up the next-to-end seat in the right section, and an older guy is working away almost continuously on a tall blond sitting on the aisle, and I watch with half an eye when the cock is being jerked up and down, up and down, the chest is being rubbed, the neck is being kissed, yet I don't think he comes at all. There are other unpleasantries scattered across the back, and every so often someone sits two or three seats down from me, and though I allow myself to be looked at, they don't approach me, so nothing happens. Then a guy in bright red cords stands in the aisle looking at the action and looking at me, and there's lots of going and coming from the john, and I look at him pretty directly in the crotch, but HE goes to the john, and then he's back, and swings in to sit next to me. Fine. So my hand goes over against his leg almost as soon as he sits down, and he takes his jacket off, pausing to suck in his gut and show a nicely-defined chest, and then he drapes his jacket over his shoulder, and reaches for me. I put my jacket in my lap and undo myself after he gets through some metallically-complicated belt that he's wearing, and I'm surprised to find that his cock is COLD, tiny and uncut, and I play around with it but he doesn't stir at all, and finally he zips up, as I do, and we're content to sit and hold hands. At the end of "The Idiot" he asks in a French accent what's going to be on next, and I tell him, asking what language he speaks, and he says French, and I talk with him for a bit, and we exclaim about the movie, and hold hands very nicely, though his chest isn't as padded as it looks. Then he says "Oh, there's my friend," and puts his jacket on and goes down the aisle to meet a GIRL, and they sit and look at the rest of the film. I sit in semi-shock, for the first moment thinking that he might have been STRAIGHT, but then figure he certainly knew what was going on and what he was doing, but then I remembered the way he kept studying my face with a whimsical smile under his floppy mustache, how he rubbed my hands and legs as if it were something new, and I was left really WONDERING what the deal WAS with this Frenchman.


DIARY 2992


If that's the word for the occurrence when the opening of the cock stretches away around the top and down underneath, that's what this guy had, and it turned me off. There were lots of old people sitting around, and the awful self-jerker sat in the middle of the right section, again, and I sat in my favorite seat on the right side of the right center section. Lots of old guys walking back and forth, a fat-chested nice-legged guy sat and massaged himself next to me then moved away, and finally a tall red-legged fellow sat next to me, I rubbed myself into a pleasant hard-on, and he started fingering himself, then we sat together and he let himself out, and I felt this nice long cock with an assy-cleft entire head, which I played with until he went soft, and he played with me, too, until he started pushing me against my zipper with pain, and I pushed him away, and I think he thought I came. Then he went to experience the awful guy, and I was left alone until someone with brown cords just wouldn't let himself alone about five seats in from me, so I slid over next to him and wanted to play with the hardness inside his trousers until he whispered to me "Do you have a place to go?" That turned me off: not even "Do you want to see the movie?" or "Would you like to invite me home with you?" THE response would have been "Yes, I have a place to go, but I don't want to invite YOU," which I essentially did when I said "No." So we rubbed legs for a bit, and then I went down to the john. It seems to smell worse than any other, and there was one guy in the far stall, and I urinated and glanced around to see that he actually OPENED THE DOOR AND LEANED OUT TO LOOK, and he had a ferrety furtive face that I didn't care for at all, so I put on my straight act and zipped up and left, getting the inevitable spot on the front of my trousers, which the cute kids from the local high school seemed to notice, and the neighborhood hoods outside the theater are far nicer than the creeps inside, and it's a pity they don't know about what goes on inside, and would come in for blow-jobs, except that three guys sitting two rows down from the back seemed VERY interested in what was going on behind them.


DIARY 3010


Up and down the stairs, across the back, seat from seat, back row to back standing to john to hallway to wandering across the back. The traffic never ceased, and most of it was awful, except for the tight-jeaned fellow with glasses whom I hoped to attract next to me, but he seemed always on the move, making not even any PRETENSE of watching the films, and everyone seemed to follow him around. A guy with WONDROUSLY torn trousers cruised across the back and finally sat next to me, but I felt through his frayed material to find a double ring around his cock, and though I got it out and played with it, it was no kick: small balls, thin member, large head which didn't get very hard: we lost interest and he zipped up and moved away. Then an older guy sat down next to me and I played with his crotch until he zipped himself out, and then started fumbling for me, and we took each other out and played and played: he was uncut and had quantities of fluids oozing from his cock, so it wasn't hard to keep it moist with supplements from my mouth, and soon I had him squirming in his seat and holding my hands off. He played with me very satisfactorily, and I stayed up for what might be a record time, and he wanted to go downstairs, but he didn't choose to ASK me, and I wanted to watch the film, so he went off and I never saw him again. A cute fellow with long hair ensconced himself in the corner for a long time, and then stood in the back waiting for an approach, but I just didn't feel up to it. Much action in the back, and some heavyset fellow sat and let me feel his bulging crotch, but it didn't interest me and I left after the intermission. The constant movement is quite distracting, and seemingly dangerous, since they don't bother to cover up when some straight people came up to the balcony. Others scattered across the back kept looking at me, and one even sat a seat away and put his hand across the seat back to touch me, but I just glared at him and shook my head "no" and he moved. Constant motion, and I felt glued to my seat just in CONTRAST to the movements. Let's hope this doesn't establish a trend: it'll soon be busier and less-movie oriented than Central Park's Ramble.


DIARY 3071


Some awful guy sits near me in the preferred side section, so I move to the left, and nothing happens for quite awhile on my side, but the other side is very busy and the back is laced with people passing back and forth. Finally some ugly-faced blue-jeaned guy stands behind me and plays with a bulge in his front, and I reach around and feel his hardness, play with his pulsations through the holes between his trouser buttons, and then undo the buttons and take him out, to play nicely with him, moistening my hand to get nice slippery sounds from it, and he stares down at it, shoving it into my hand when I return with a fresh load of saliva, and I reach around with two hands, resisting an impulse to take the veined cock into my mouth, and continue to play with it, pausing when someone comes up the aisle, and finally bring him to a climax, hearing the fat drops slapping onto the cement floor, and play with his diminishing cock while he takes out a handkerchief to wipe himself off, and then he's gone for about a half-hour, coming back for more later, but I don't give it to him. Then a very thin person with a sexy look cruises past and past, and he sits in many places, finally sitting down the aisle from me, and he won't move to me, so I go to him and feel him up, but he's nervous about everyone in the auditorium, including two noisy straight people who fuss with their umbrellas and packages in the middle of the balcony. Lots of straights in today. Then he takes himself out and I play with his long thick meat until he starts getting hard, but when I reach for spit he puts himself back and goes downstairs, but I won't follow since I hate the smell from the john. Finally he comes back and I play with him again, but he doesn't want to come, and finally he leaves in some sort of disgust, and he doesn't follow me out. From a distance another fellow looked good, but when he sat down next to me there was this frown on his face, a jowly chin and neckline, and a huge paunch slipping out over his trousers, so though I've sort of lured him into sitting next to me by staring at him, I don't touch him, and finally HE takes the hint and moves away before I'm forced to go somewhere, myself.


DIARY 3579


Many old crotches in the last row, so I sit two rows forward, then move one back, but still nothing's happening, though many are looking and there's older action in the back row. Then the theater fills up pretty well, so I'm into the back seat. A dapper older fellow, still cute and angular and blond, cruises me outside the window, and then comes around to sit next to me, and over comes the overcoat and the knee, and I play with him, he plays with me, but even though he's soft, I let go for a moment, and he's down to grab himself and he's pulling his putz all over the cement floor! I reach over to verify the wetness (and the limpness), and he says something about being sorry because he was so hot, but I took it as terminal itch before going home, and he did. Empty space between me and neighbor though he seemed to want me, so I held out my hand and asked for popcorn. He looked at me in amazement and passed me the box, I took some, he offered again, I refused, and finally he said "Why don't you move over here, it's too bright by the window." So I did, and I took down my pants at his insistence after he played with my calf for a long time, and he took out his cock, and I played with it until he said I should stop, since coming was such a mess. I kept at him, however, as the back row cleared out, and finally he asked me if I wanted him to come, and I said "Sure." He took himself out further, told me to slick it up with my spit, which I obliged him by doing, and he crouched down in his seat, bracing his shod toes against the back supports of the seats before us, and I played and played with the overly-short member of the overly-tall man next to me in the Thalia Theater. Then he looked at me with some sort of appeal, and then we both looked down to see a gobbet of semen rise from his cock and settle messily onto his tie, and then he grabbed down and grimaced and came the rest of the way all at once, all over my fingers, and it dribbled down between, wetting his fly and the undershorts beneath. Out of his pocket came paper handkerchiefs, and he offered them to me, so I could wipe myself, and he examined his down cock for signs of come, and we sat together for the rest of the film, he again returning to play with my calf.


DIARY 4123


After a whole pre-evening of awful fat, old, grumpy men sitting next to me and pressing their soft thighs against my young hard ones, it was a relief to move to the other side and have the older but cuter mustached fellow sit down next to me. Watched the fat fellow trying to make out with the VERY Afroed hippy two rows down, but I don't think anything happened there. Also drooled about the broad-shouldered blond there with his girlfriend, just to torture everyone. A few OTHER nice ones were about, but the generally down aspects of the last row scared them away. But this guy sat next to me, not even LOOKING at me, not acknowledging my sidelong glances at him at odd intervals, and finally I just sat with my knees spread out, and he crossed his left leg over his right knee and let gravity pull his angled leg down until it was resting on mine. Pleasant stable feeling, and I just let it go until he sat up straighter. I slouched a bit, putting my leg next to his, and for about a half an hour we just watched the show that way, comfortable against each other, but he NEVER looked at me. Finally, toward the end of Roma, which I'd seen earlier, I felt that I could---what the hell---see what might come, and pressed harder. The press was returned and hands quickly came across to feel legs and then crotches. I was in my tight jeans, so when he went to my crotch the main thing he felt was a bunched genital. He went inside, but I couldn't gracefully force my way past his tight belt, and he played with me while I pulsed back at him, and he, finally, only vaguely got hard. Not really anything. At the end of Roma I squeezed his knee and he followed me out, to walk alongside me to Broadway, start with the "How you doing?" and it came out quickly that I lived in Brooklyn (where he had to go to WORK tomorrow) and HE lived uptown with a roommate who might be back anytime. I said it sounded risky, not particularly liking his older freckled-mottled face and long straight hair, he not going out of his way to attract me, and he asked how "The Hawks and the Sparrows" was, I said it was pretty good, and he went back to see it. I got my food and went home alone on subway.


DIARY 8317


About four people scattered across the back rows, and I sat just in from the aisle in the darkest part, and immediately an older fellow sat two seats down from me, so there was the CHANCE of action. Then another guy sat BETWEEN us, and immediately arranged his coat in a tent from his neck to his knees. Then he reached for my hand, and there was his cock, quite hard, peeping up from his shorts. For a long time there was a tussle of three and four hands, since the other guy insisted on getting his paws in, and for a bit I would just withdraw, but then the fellow in the center would chase out the interloper and I'd go back to playing by myself. The hands also came across to me, and with the buttons and the underwear I was not really ready to be groped, but at their insistence I got it out anyway, but it never really got hard. The guy could sustain an erection for a VERY long time, getting harder almost to the point of coming, then holding off. Then he went to the john and the other followed, and I figured that would be the end of it, but they both came back and from the feel of the cock, it was still undone. I wanted to watch the film, and got quite perfunctory in parts, until he went down so far that I withdrew, but he wasn't happy with that and pulled me back in. Then he sort of uncovered so we could look at it, and he seemed to want to come, so I cupped his balls with my right hand and wet my left and did him juicily until he started to stretch out in the seat, and then I went down on him, he quickly covered my head with his coat, I tried to keep the lip smacks to a minimum, the other guy thankfully kept his hand away, and I bobbled up and down the stiff cock, and he started pulsing in the base and I paused to almost HEAR the emission, and then I drew again and again, swallowing, and played around and around until he forced me away, and I sat with my hand on his cock until he went quite down, quite dryly since my mouth had caught all, and rather quickly it was the end of the film and everyone left. For a moment I thought he was following me, but he didn't, and I found, at the LAST matinee, that the Elgin is even active on a Sunday MORNING (though I was the ONLY getter!).


DIARY 8471


The back rows are fairly packed with unpleasant people, but the older guy who sits next to me doesn't make a move, so when someone's been playing with the black in the best area (just off the right aisle in the right center section when you face the screen) moves away and the black stretches his legs toward me, I move around and sit on his OTHER side, and he sits up straight and his enormous hard thighs come next to mine, and we start pressures nicely and I put my hand atop his thigh which is so thick that it feels more like a waist than a part of a leg. Down to his crotch and there's lots of cloth, but soon I can feel a hard cylinder along his leg, and he seems to enjoy it so much that I reach in to have it naked, and he unzips from the top and I feel again a satiny slip like Arthur Mitchell wears (I wonder about these blacks!), and the cock is quite sturdy, with a distinct bulge on the underside and marvelously shaped head. He likes to look at it, so I bring it into the light and move it back and forth; he's cut, but the skin is so flexible that it's a joy to work with. He keeps straining downward with his legs as if he wants to come, not seeming to care that if he squirted he'd cover his clothes, and I love feeling him, watching his face, so the movies don't get much viewing (they were fabulous, like to see them AGAIN, in fact, they were so wackily funny; and Rick Wilson was in "Pound"), and then he shoves his legs under the seats in front (the guys there MUST have known what was going on) and I whacked back and forth, moistening my hand, and he came closer, closer, I tried going down once but he panicked, and he started thrusting as his cock got marbled in its veins, and then he throbbed ecstatically, face contorting, though there wasn't very much liquid, and he pressed my hand to stop, gasping, rolling his eyes, wincing, and I held on, feeling each grand pulse, and then wiped my hands under my seat. He went to the john, then returned and started playing with me. I was far too self-conscious, but he played with my leg, and then put my hand BACK onto his crotch, and he may have come BEFORE and he was working on THREE, but he came up quickly and was rock-hard again, and I got excited, and put HIS hand on MY crotch, and he started going inside, so I unloosened my belt and let him play, and he was determined for me to come, and I was so excited by HIM that I thought I COULD (though I'd come so wonderfully LAST night), and I strained forward myself, holding my breath, kneading my stomach, but he didn't seem interested in the body (though he grabbed my arm after I'd gotten so much pleasure out of feeling HIS arms, and he DID seem to have a calf and foot fetish, going down into my shoes and feeling around my ankles for a LONG time, so that I felt his fingers must be abraded by the edges of my shoes, and would he ask me to take them off?), just in my coming, so I tried and tried, went down somewhat, but he pumped quickly away, dry-palmed, and then I DID come, snorting, moving back and forth, and he left me go MUCH too quickly, though I had gone soft, so I had to crush out the last of MY spasms against my belt, which got soaked, and parts of my pants, which I had to spit off later. He thought I was finished much sooner than I was, but when I WAS finished I looked at him and smiled and said that I didn't ordinarily do that, and he said it was good for me, and I laughed. Then we sat together and watched the movie for awhile, during the intermission exchanging notes about "Lovers of Teruel," "Beauty and the Beast," and "Birth of a Nation." Then he STILL seemed excited, so I took him and played and played and PLAYED with him, getting him very hard and building him toward a climax, and he came AGAIN practically without emission, though with a great deal of feeling, and my hands went across his chest and down his bumpy waist and around his thighs inside his trousers, and he said he was going to school AND working, but we exchanged phone numbers, and I asked who'd be calling, and he said "Me" on a piece of paper, then wrote down his name and a number at work that I could use to call him. I sort of bent over to kiss him when he was leaving (and I sat through the thing again), but he didn't seem interested in necking, just in exercising the body, which was fine with me: I'd love to get that big cock where I could play with it to my heart's content, and I DO look forward to calling him sometime.


DIARY 8499


In at 10 and right to the right to the balcony, wandering cautiously down the narrow side aisle, where white diagonal lines confused me into thinking there were steps where there weren't. A few singles were seated along the rail, but no one looked very good in the gloom, so I sat in an armless seat (the metal was there, the wood wasn't, and there was a lump of SOMETHING metallic under my seat) and watched the first film of the auto repairman, cute in his black mustache and beard, fucking a fairly attractive girl. Guys passed, lounging against the wall, but the ONLY attractive person I saw was a long-haired blond kid who passed a few times and then wasn't seen again. A rather hard-faced PR with a silver-studded hat was a possibility, but he never stayed in one place enough to be cruised. As one movie led to another, one worse than the other, until the trip guy with his hair and muscles and fairly nice cock, which came twice, once just a spurt onto her belly, another fairly sexy on his own stomach, but the films had an uncomfortable way of ENDING just as the guy came, cutting out any sense of FEELING or ENJOYMENT of his orgasm---and usually it wasn't built UP to, either. I rubbed myself semi-hard for a few guys standing along the wall, but none were good enough to go after. When they got back to the first film again (after the house lights mysteriously flashed on showing up guy's eyes like cat's eyes in the dark), after 5 guys, so the second come must have been the "sixth unit," and the last guy didn't come at all, and one showed ONLY the barest possible squirt before the film ended, I started walking, to under the exit sign where someone was going someone, and a fat guy reached for me with one hand while he played with another fat guy with his other hand. When I complied, he took me out and I played with him, he took himself out but wouldn't get hard, went down on me without pleasure on either part, so I just moved away. Down the other side, and there was nothing, back to the top, what SHOULD have been the best place, but there was no action there, and then the house lights went on, the film continued for about five minutes, then went blank, and that was the end. Left, almost happy that I'd checked it out for a scene I DIDN'T care for.


DIARY 8551


The balcony is sparsely settled for a Friday evening, and there's always a rim of ugly old farts peering over to see what action they can watch in the top three or four rows. The back is brightly lit, and only in the front and on the sides is it dim, and the only action I really SEE is on the sides, where the bodies are silhouetted against the light-colored walls, and two rows from the front, where two guys are kissing very heavily all through the film, seeing none of it. For the most part the crowd is awful, and Bob and I sit in the third row, where the seats are not QUITE as torn apart, but it really IS a tacky theater---where it was once SO nice. Then I'm bored with the stupid "interviews" where the guys describe someone and a setting that they'd like, with activity they'd like, and they get paired with someone completely different and end up doing nothing LIKE what they wanted. I go to the back, but standing's no good. See a hunky guy in the top row and sit below him, but he doesn't look at me, and there's ALWAYS a fat fart staring down at me, and I just can't TAKE that. Stand on the side for a bit, but there are awful people there, too, and the nice ones are so shy that they don't stand in one place for long, and I feel like being approached BY them, not approaching them. Sit down, and sure enough some fat slob sits next to me, and I move back to Bob, saying the place is impossible. Three nice guys sitting behind are joking about the film, doing nothing. But the four guys in "The Insatiables" are quite lovely, two with BIG cocks that they KEEP on using, and the dark-haired one Bob likes IS handsome with his feathery eyelashes and good clear skin against his dark hair. All have ripply abdominals, and they concentrate on sucking and rather little on fucking until the last guy arrives, but most of the orgasms are by hand, some HUGELY exciting, but in the framework of the theater, there's a lot lost. The previews look horrible, too, and we actually leave before the point we came in, it's so bad. More people there, but of poorer quality, and Bob quite truthfully remarks that the two best numbers, us, leave together, frustrating everyone else there. So it couldn't have been very good at ALL.


DIARY 8795


Up to the balcony to see not more than 10 people across the back and about 20 scattered through the upper balcony. Some of the shots are very sexy, and at least most of the shows end with someone COMING, which is better than the average from before, but still feet and feet of film are devoted to a stupid "story" line that barely exists, and to lots and lots of soft cocks that are really turnoffs. Paul keeps saying "But he's not even hard, is he?" after the initial reaction to seeing his first cock sucking, fucking, and even first fist fucking on the screen. The shots of groovy guys taken from the knees coming onto plates of glass just above the cameras are VERY sexy from the point of view of looking at nice bodies and big cocks, and I get quite hard, many times, so that when I go down to take a leak before leaving the theater (in the smelly john which has people lurking in the stalls, but it's fairly quiet anyway), I actually can SCRAPE the slime off the front of my blue trousers. There's another scene of a guy jerking off where he pulls back and stares at himself, getting great expressions on his face, that I'd like to have. "Big Bragger" stars a very muscled Jim Cassidy and two very much smaller people who each have about three times the length of cock that he has, and everyone's very manually oriented, so that when everyone comes on everyone else's chest, it's a real turn-on and I'd like to have the films. But the 22 hours is too long for our schedule, but Paul says that after the first 1/2 hour of the unusualness of seeing all of this on the screen, it gets rather boring and finally leaves you thinking "I don't need to see this for ANOTHER year or so." Down to the orchestra to get into the people jerking off in the back row, but NO one who's attractive, except for a few loners who wander around the audience looking for someone, but they're SO sexy in tight shirts and pants that everyone ELSE knows they're quite inferior, so there's little pursuing of the cuties. If someone like ME made a move, something might happen, but I was too close to Paul to try, and I wasn't turned on by the fewness of people around, and THAT killed the last of my free passes from Mattachine, anyway, and the $5 MAY be going to $6. Unless the lack of business will put them out of commission entirely.


DIARY 8911


"Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid" is a Peckinpah with all the slow-motion blood, and Billy's killed fresh from sex, naked from the waist up without a single mark. This could be a Katy Jurado festival: she's a fat hotel keeper in this, a plumpening wife to Karl Malden in "One-Eyed Jacks." Since I'm stoned during Pat and Billy I'm not really following the plot, what there might be of it, and why these people don't just kill each other without getting all their friends and cronies killed beside them when they're battling it out, I don't understand, and I'm SURE there was a bit of gayness in the relationship between Pat and Billy, particularly when Pat (James Coburn) sat outside and listened to Billy (Kris Kristofferson, VERY unsexy) saying "Jesus" as he came into his Mehicano whore. "One-Eyed Jacks" was somewhat better: the two friends, Malden running out on Brando, lying, Brando lying: "My mother gave me this before she died," and then Brando falling in love with Malden's stepdaughter, killing the father, fathering the daughter's son, and saying he'll be back to see her, waving into a sunset that everyone laughs at, because it's high noon by the shadows. Lots of stupid lines in the Calder Willingham-written screenplay, too. There are three or four cute ones but only the ugly ones sit next to me, until finally a Spanish-type with open shirt sits next to me, I rub him hard, he gets ME hard, we take each other out, then start kissing, EVEN WHEN A STRAIGHT GUY COMES UP THE AISLE AND GOES TO HIS GIRL, and we look at each other in amazement, figuring "That's the way it goes." I don't want to come, and suddenly he doesn't either, so that's the end of that. Older guy sits next to me, I take him out, we play, but the INSTANT I wet my fingers, he zips up and leaves. Odd. Then there are others sitting about, but nothing happens with anyone beside me as far as I can tell, and I'm hoping the nicely kissing one will stay around for the end, but gradually everyone except one leaves, and he's about the worst, so when he looks back for me to follow him, I don't. It's better when there are somewhat more people there, though the straight ones seemed to not mind at ALL the moving and even the kissing. The age of Aquarius, indeed!


DIARY 9097


Vito Russo (fairly cute) SAID that everyone always talked about the number of films that he left out, but he said that the two-hour reel was ALREADY too long, and Bob Grossman brought up the GOOD point that he didn't even MENTION "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" or "Streetcar Named Desire." He started with "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" as an example of a GOOD film, and I pointed out that maybe even the HUSBAND in the first excerpt, of the wife, might be gay, too. I insisted that he should add some comments about "Samurai," since the movie becomes much CLEARER when it's clear that they're all gay. He mentions "Tea and Sympathy," says that "everyone's gay" in "Chinatown," says that the 1944 "Crossfire" was changed from the soldier being killed from a gay guy to a Jew, and mentions that in the novel of "Lost Weekend," the hero is a writer who can't cope with his gayness, and that's why he drinks. He shows parts of "Advise and Consent," the trailer to "Boys in the Band" (which he says IS a good movie, it just shows a very LIMITED view of gay life that everyone takes as the COMMON occurrence), and mentions Franklin Pangborn and Grady Sutton as the usual stereotype of gay hairdresser and general mother-oriented finicker. He shows bits of "Queen Christina" where Garbo says she'll "die a bachelor," mentions that Clyde of "Bonnie and Clyde" was gay, and says that Paul Lynd, Lily Tomlin, and David Cassidy should all announce that they're gay. "Suddenly Last Summer" is cited and shown many times. FEELINGS of homosexuals about themselves are epitomized in "Children's Hour," "Boys" and a 1965 Mike Wallace TV show. 1961's "Victim" praised, directed by Basil Dearden, and "This Special Friendship" was praised and shown. A cut from Marjoe revealed that Marjoe goes to gay bars (per Vito). He cut the 20-minute excerpt from "Maedchen in Uniform." Showed the ends of "Suddenly," "Children's," "Special Friendship," "Advise," "Victim" and "Sunday," mentioned "The Fox" and "The Sergeant" and ended with a trailer to "A VERY Natural Thing," the wave of the future. 3:50 to 5:10, and said that he usually has a cut from "Killing of Sister George," but hasn't mentioned "Staircase," gay porno films, "Villain" with a gay Richard Burton, or the "trade" gays of "Save the Tiger" and "A Touch of Class," good impressions.


DIARY 9122


Notes scrawled in the blank pages of "The Origin of the Brunists":
"Casey" (12:40-2) has the deaf-mute which I'd forgotten, and it had, I marked 2---and then 3 phony comes by Casey, and then seeing it at the START made it 4!
"Everything Goes" (2-3:05) has Mark Taylor for a fair self-suck, lapping up his own come, a HORRID psychiatrist talking about gays, a fist-fucking sequence, and good comes by the Christy twins, but their sequence could have been BETTER.
"Bob and Daryl and Ted and Alex" (3:05-4:10) has four GREAT bodies, 3 uncut, and FINALLY five comes, stupid three die in end, leaving only the HUMPY woodcutter.
"The Back Row" (4:10-5:30) has a fabulous looking George Payne, but he never even gets hard, let alone comes, but he has a glorious body in the few seconds that it's nude. Good trick photography of Cal rolling clothed and then naked on a waterbed in the Pleasure Chest, but that sequence, the incredible mickey mousing (though I'm sure it was just to show who went after whom), and the movie-within-movie ploys were just awful. The film ends up with 6 comes, Casey contributing three shooting ones (he's learned), but an awful, hateful, hideous movie of exploitation, stupidity, sadism, masochism, and plain sickness! The presence of Casey brings out the WORST in filmmakers!
"The Erotic Films of Peter de Rome" (5:30-7:05) are much more boring the second time, though the second coming is still sexy, and the "Daydreams on a Bus" finally falls together as a film, though the subway shots are phonier than ever.
"American Cream" has a hilarious suck job by means of jerking on a guy's tie. "The Office" has one frenetic come on a guy's face; "Country Lads" has scenes right out of Tom's Kake book, lots of nudity in the snow, and one SPURT of a come, again on someone's face, and "Roles" had music which was much too loud, and big deal, so two guys changed costumes? By van Italie?!
"Left-Handed" (8:20-9:45) has comes by the guy in the john, a stupid comeless straight gig (just to prove the guy with the snake and heart on his right buttock is bisexual?), the shopkeeper and the doll jerk off, though the doll comes when he's practically soft, and in one scene there's a TONE to drive everyone in the theater CRAZY. The drug seller jerks off in the shower, and then he's done twice more, once in a quickie by the falls, and there are five rather nice comes during the final orgy sequence, the last as great squirt by the doll, though he's not so cute once he shaves that great beard. Ray Frank plays the doll, but it's just usually the OTHER person who comes!
"Erotikus" (9:45-11:30) is not only the LONGEST film at 105 minutes, but it's the best one I've ever seen and the first gay film (and maybe the only gay film) that I'd want to buy a copy of. It describes the history: first, Apollo with films of the likes of Ed Fury. Then AMG with people like Gary Conway, Glen Conboy, Sammy Jackson, and Monte Hansen. LA had the Park Theater in the mid-60s, and Pat Rocco produced "Yes" in 1969, one of the first good gay films, with on-screen kisses and blocked "simulations" of sex and "simulated" fucking. 1970 brought in "The Collection" in color with sound, directed by Nick Griffo, about a sex maniac who tortures captives, and it was ruled obscene and never shown commercially since though it still simulated sex. Signature's film "One" showed the first come (through masturbation) "and the screen was flooded with come." And then follows one of the most fantastic sequences of sheer coming I've ever seen. FABULOUS! And there was even applause when the screen went black for a moment. This was followed by an incredible suck sequence, and then, after 69, came ass-eating and ass-fucking, and the awful statement "films without ass-fucking weren't considered hard core." Part of a Tarzan film, "Confessions of a Male Groupie" lauded as the first gay spectacle film, with a GREAT jerkoff sequence. "Boys in the Sand" and "LA Plays Itself" both broke into reasonably legitimate showings in 1972 (showed the fist-fuck from the latter), and "Dust into Dust" looks like the first film with a serious plot. Halstead's final slow come to "Bolero" GREAT! "Drive" (11:15-12:30) (they showed previews twice, but STILL caught up with time, even with 3-4 film breaks and readjustments) was GOOD. The doctor jerks off, the lover comes, there's a double-fisted fist fuck (!) and one guy with each fist up an ass pumping like a human reciprocating piston. Peter Ferson is a lovely Androgene (though you never see his cock), Brian Destazio is a fabulous go-go dancer, "Colin" is played by Peter de Rome (the SIMP?), good paintings by Jack Brusco, and Arachne was played well by Mary Jim Sstunning!


DIARY 9171


There are lots of people scattered across the back row, and I sit way on the side until people move away, and I gradually move closer and closer to what seems to be the dark center of concentration of people, even though no one seems to be doing anything. There's a blue-jeaned Cal Culver-type seeming to cruise a leather-clad old man, but when the leather moves away and I sit next to the blue jeans and brush my hand against his leg, he firmly takes my hand away, and Bob Grossman suggested an entirely new idea when he said "Maybe he was straight?" Actually, he MAY have been, but he surely shouldn't have been sitting in the last row of the Elgin in sexy blue jeans and boots, looking at a leather number, and resting his hand on a full crotch. He later moved to the aisle seat under the light and did seem content to watch the movie. I moved around and around, but there just didn't seem to be anything doing until a kid wandered across the back and sat almost next to the wall. I stood in the back, but he didn't turn around to me, except when I slid into the seat next to him. The knee came across quickly and I got quite hard as I started playing with him and he helped unzip himself and get his small cock out of his tight underwear, but he didn't reach for my cock at all, and put his arm around my shoulder and even pushed my head down into his crotch when he finally got hard. It was a perfectly clean, smooth cock that I took into my mouth, enjoying moving slowly enough to feel the bump of the head and the swelling of the veins as he got hotter and hotter. I could sense the person on the aisle looking at me, and thankfully no one came up the aisle that the kid felt necessary to poke me and sit up, so I kept on going, teasing and playing until he pushed my head down completely, and he throbbed and throbbed as he shot into my mouth, running his hand madly around my arms and back and ass, and then he started squirming and drawing away as I kept teasing his come cock, and his gentle breathing and gasps were quite exciting: my shorts were wet as he pushed me away with a smile and buttoned up and left, before he could have possibly seen all of the double feature. Another amazing case!


DIARY 9180


Every other seat was meticulously taken in the crowded last row, and I sat in the only seat surrounded by two vacancies, aware of the bearded fellow who looked at me from one over. I debated sitting next to him, but figured there's no use feeling him up so SOON after I got in for the double feature. But then, thankfully, after lots more looking back and forth, the fat fellow between us moves out and the beard moves into the vacant seat, propping his feet up on the row ahead, looking to the left when the bright light from the lobby beams across the aisle whenever the door's opened, and puffs up his padded coat on his lap. He keeps playing with himself as I look at him, so when he drapes the coat over his entire body and puts his feet way in my direction, it's too much to resist, so I move over to the empty seat between us and put my hand on his leg. It's nice and meaty, and there's an enormous mass of balls and cock inside. He reaches over to me, and I'm almost completely hard, but he squeezes my balls a bit too hard much of the time, and then starts diving in for the ass, which almost turns me off. But I go after him, feeling his flat belly and smooth skin (and also conscious that I haven't showered after all the oil last night with Rolf), and then make a move for his trouser fastening, since I can feel no fly on his pants. He undoes himself and there's a fat limp cock resting above nice balls, and silken-skinned legs tempt me to go in full blast, and he only vaguely gets hard, but I wet my fingers and he starts reacting, finally leaving me alone and enjoying my hands, and then he raises the coat and under I go, sucking away like mad, hoping that he'll have the sense to iron out my head-humps in case anyone passes by. The others in the aisle are obviously gay so they shouldn't care. I'm too engrossed in his enlarging cock to even be worried before he starts thrusting away, and he's so far back in my throat I'm not sure he's come, but he throbs nicely, there's a sticky sensation in the back of my throat, and then he pushes me away, buttons up, and we sit awkwardly together until I leave to try Art again on the phone, then return to sit in my old seat. He seems to want me more, and I feel greedy for taking him and giving nothing, but I excuse myself by saying I can't really satisfy an ass-man, so I sit quietly and he leaves.


DIARY 9506


Art's place is warm in temperature and unbearably cold in décor: Bob took all the "soft furniture" [Art's words] with him when he left, must be way over a year ago, and there's only a hardwood table, unpadded chairs, and kitchen equipment to distract from the mottled, newly plastered walls in the living room, and there are a few plants to relieve the bed-on-a-platform severity of the bedroom. He shows me a planter by Richard Etts, and when I mention that he had some dynamite hash, Art brightens and says "Of course, you'll want some," and got his finely sieved grass that Michael and he and I shared three pipefuls of, while they talked about their own dancing and classes, and then Art suggested "We really get smashed" and had a fourth pipe, while I felt the dull unpleasantness of smoking when you're not into your fantasies. I asked Michael if there were anything between him and Art (though Michael had just broken up with Skinner at the worst possible time, when another friend of Skinner left him, and he was quite crushed, drinking until he passed out, and then Michael left), and he feigned innocence. Any time I mentioned the movie, they both agreed they'd be going. So I pointed out that it was almost midnight, we all laughed as we said how we hated to cross streets while stoned, and got into the almost empty movie to see someone's car floating off as a prelude to the entrance of the "Speci-man" played by Jim Cassidy in a Gorgeous George white-brillo wig and a broad nose and a dozen tits, but he DID come nicely and get very hard. "Whatever Mama Wants" was sad in that it put an old, wheezing, panting, jerking-off Mama in the middle of every scene, more a turn-off than -on. Michael said there was a lot of action in the back, Art said he'd SEEN both of them and left at 1, and I sat in the seat, wishing someone handsome would sit next to me so I could play with him and he could play with me, but the movies were over at 2, nothing happened, I went to the john, and we all left, wondering whether this was ANOTHER evening like that at Art's when everyone wanted to go to bed but no one would make the first move. Why else would we smoke? But I tried playing footsie with Art, and it didn't seem to work, and I'd come already during the day anyway, so there was nothing more to do but go home.


DIARY 9687


"Station to Station" has a CUTE teenagey kid who peeks in on a photographer's session, jerks off, but there's nothing much ELSE: LONG story, WOMEN posing romantically for the photographer, only ONE come and THAT'S not so hot.
"Demi-Gods" is awful: cutouts of Marlon Brando meets Tom of Finland drawings, and only ONE fucking-sucking montage of Tom's drawings is fun enough to merit mention. Otherwise there are long blackouts, a double sun, construction paper flames, lots of jerking off with come that covers the camera lens, and not much else. Everything is so ARTIFICIALLY done, winks signifying orgasms.
"Everything Goes" DOES have a come with Accujack after he whips himself up to the orgasm, and someone jerks himself off while being fist fucked, too. Christy twins AGAIN a turn-on for affection and hard cocks, and the self-suck is ass-over-face with long tongue doing the white-lapping. During the intermission, they ACTUALLY played "Mama's little helper," which starts with the REAL downer-line: "What a drag to get old!" LONG intermissions, short shows, in order, 12; 1:10; 1:45; 2:55; 4:20; 4:55, and 6:30, out at 7:35.
"The Night Before" (1973) is VERY good, good shooting scenes, too. Photographer for the Advocate, a BIG black cock as a messenger, and a fruit-bowl black cock, too, cyclist on roof, dildo up ass and out mouth a REAL freak-show, original music, good effort, and GREAT dream-fantasy sequences of looking into roof-reservoir and seeing the Hudson River, running naked through the park at dockside, cute people with a minimum of soft cocks TRYING to harden.
"Demi-Gods" shown again, not SO disappointing once you know it's disappointing.
"The Erotic Fils (HA) of Peter de Rome" is STILL good: good touchless come, good bus-fantasy, good orgasms during Mumbo Jumbo, good "hot pants," great "Green Thoughts' jerkoff, and "Underground" and "Prometheus" bearable a third time.
"Adam and Yves" was DEFINITELY worth waiting for: cute people in hard sex, FABULOUS narcissus of Bill Young (?) as a monk in a monastery, and an INCREDIBLE scene with about 10 blacks in the john of the Lincoln Art Theater, all of them looking straight, with some of the juiciest, longest cocks on film: another set of sequences I'd like to have, along with "Erotikus." Well worth the $5, but again, I won't be repeating the experience for ANOTHER over-six-months-since I saw the LAST Hand-In-Hand Festival at the Jewel on 11-29-74.


DIARY 10592


In about 1:05, in the middle of "Resurrection of Eve" and decide that I'm looking at a GOOD orgy and a couple of effective comes, then from 1:20 to 2:30 is "Behind the Green Door" and after a LONG pointless build-up Marilyn Chambers (who IS quite pretty) is kidnapped and given a very esty massage in which she's to allow all feelings to relax in her toes, feet, legs, knees, thighs, etc, and even up to her breasts, where it gets quite explicit. Then she's mauled by a number of women, looking almost male-ly muscular in her extreme straddle position with feet on either side of the bed, and then Johnny Keyes comes out and fucks her from funny white tights (so we can't see his ass?), and then three trapezes lower from the ceiling, she does Johnny, is fucked from below, and jerks off two guys on either side, one a DYNAMITE blond with almost a Jorge Donn physical beauty, and at length he COMES without being touched, in incredible slow and stop-motion, spurting FAR beyond the camera range, then HIGH into the air, but coming down on her neck, then HIGH into the air again, as he tenses the base of his cock and sends it pulsing upward, and the drops fall and bounce off his balls, shooting out and freezing on her neck, and when her head comes forward, festooned with his semen, her nose bumps his cock with a musical "klong" and three or four drops of semen bobble around in a FANTASY of eroticism. Then that same footage is repeated AGAIN, then it's COLORED, her head is superimposed and removed, then there are TWO, and the SPRAYS are colored and come from either side, and then, with an audible sigh from me, the BEST part of the films is over. 2:30 to 4:12 is "Sodom and Gomorrah" with a funny sexless tree-fuck, a monkey-manned space ship, a GREAT space body comes with a GREAT gush into a tube after rubbing himself against her glass coffin, and talking to someone later reminds me that the BODY is exactly like Louis Love's, and his name is TYLER REYNOLDS. Could it BE Louis? He didn't have such a SIMIAN chin, though, as I remember. A gay guy does a nice long multi-spasm jerk-off into a cup, a big frowsy old guy does himself, and the pretty body comes IN her at the end, which is a pity. Previews, then 4:15 to 5:40 the 1973 "Resurrection of Eve," only ONE slow-motion good come, in red light, over her face, and I stay to 6:35 to see the INCREDIBLE slow-motion come AGAIN, FABULOUS!!! So this day saw 52 hours of film, practice for the 6 hours at the Adonis TUESDAY?


DIARY 10609


"Sur" ends perfectly DREADFULLY, with fist-fucking and the PRETTY one clothed!
"Behind the Greek Door" has a few nice bodies, but only the HAIRY one's HARD and sexy enough for me. HORRIBLE phonied-in slurping and sucking sounds. Hairy comes VERY weakly over the guy's ass, which is a PITY because hairy is MUCH sexier than that and his PARTNER has a LOVELY body, despite the fact that he never gets hard. Two poor, one drippy, one GREAT come. Val Martin(elli, that is) is the big stud in the previews, VERY cruel SM.
"Superstuds" pairs Dakota with Jim Cassidy and a WOMAN, and no one comes; then Jim Cassidy and Bill Eld and a WOMAN, and only Eld jerks off lightly.
"Reflections of Youth" has stupid music, two GOOD long face-comes, Eld jerks off from two angles, nice shots, but little come. Two GOOD cocks furnish two POOR comes strictly through lazy camerawork. But at the end are two GREAT jetting 7-spurt comes from hot red cocks, making it the best.
"Good Hot Stuff" (and I'm beginning to check my watch and get tired of sitting, wanting to piss, and DISGUSTED with the guy across the way who CONSTANTLY belches loudly, pisses THREE times on the floor, and sounds like he's coming when the screen's pretty good. How AWFUL the crowd is, I don't even go upstairs!) is another Hand-in-Hand self-advertisement, with shots from "Left Handed," where the black-and-white shots were FANTASY ("I didn't know THAT!"); the "Night Before," the nude black and white ballet; "Drive" that was partly filmed at Le Jardin, the double-fist fucking scene; parts of "Ballet Down the Highway" that make it look awful; parts of "Wanted: Billy the Kid" that are awful, with a woman yet; and "Bagdad" which looks like the best of a POOR coming lot, maybe see with 5 NEXT year. Then Peter de Rome shows his black come, parts of "Underground" that was filmed from 7 am to 4 am in a shot; the Narcissus part of "Adam and Yves," which might have been Mark Woodward, who was guiding us through the film, then showed a lot of fairly funny outtakes, then the orgy from "Night Before," and it's over. "Sur" again, stars Clay Russell and Dan Reynolds, so ONE is the humpy hairy number, and Hairy comes SOFTLY himself and they MISS the comes during the next fucking. One of the worst sets of movies I've EVER seen. Not for YEARS will I go to another---except maybe the Peter Berlin films; Rolf makes them sound pretty sexy. 2-7:45---only 5 3/4 hours!


DIARY 10816


$3 isn't bad for just over an hour, and look at the screen to find that ALL the movies are the SAME: she lies on her back, he fucks in the ass or cunt, then pulls out to come over her belly, sometimes interspersed with 69 shots, but never vibrators, three people, standing up, or coming inside---gets to be a BIT of a bore! Upstairs to get used to the dark, most people clustered around the bridge in back, most people awful. Sit in the balcony-side for a bit, see someone looking fairly decent, follow him to the Exit sign, and he says to come "behind the screen." "I don't know where that is," and "Follow me" takes me DOWN the stairs, IN PLAIN VIEW OF EVERYONE ON THE MAIN FLOOR (who, to tell the truth, don't seem to be looking at US) and behind the edge of the screen where there's junk stored. I do him very nicely, a smallish cock, very hard, that he wants me to do AGAIN, but I pack up and go, feeling self-conscious in my tailored Indian shirt in the black-clothed audience. Back up to see people doing each other in the balconies, fucking standing up along the bridge, but still most of them are pretty bad. Even the OTHER side of the screen is "open" and people walk openly across the base of the screen (not in the picture, of course) in full view of the audience, so EVERYONE must know what's going on. Fatties, blacks, some smoking joints, and the few who MAY look good are pursued until they succumb. A number keeps putting his hands to grab ME, but I just move away as gently as I can. Lots of times I find Paul's there ahead of me, standing out with his tie, the only one in the place, and his pink balding head and skin-tight face smiling tightly in the dimness, and he says that nothing happens to him then, later going up to a VERY sick-looking Ed Lowman and John Reed with his new Spanish-looking lover for dinner, and no sex until FINALLY he gets it off the next night with us. Surprised at the crowd at 5:30 on a Thursday, surprised at the openness, and there were people gathered around the men's room, but I didn't feel like finding out what was going on: if anyone would guarantee that the crowd would be nice, it'd be a nice alternative to the Club Baths as being a constantly-available place to show tourists NY sex!


DIARY 12231


GORDON GRANT SUPERSTAR, just the end, doesn't make me want to see the start.
HEAVY EQUIPMENT would be better without the red-green 3-D to darken the image through the glasses in which the red seems MUCH darker than the green, so it's darkened considerably, because Wrangler is FAR better than Casey Donovan for the same type of physique, except he has a BIG cock that WORKS, except that he tends to jerk off VERY quickly and just let the come FLY. Roger has a nice body but doesn't come well, but the Christy twins have such LOVELY upturning cocks that look SO suckable, it makes up for the mediocre faces and bodies they have, and even the kick of their being twins. Then Al Parker is just a sensation: HUGE veined cock, NICE mustached and bearded face, and a HUGE come that makes everyone laugh on the PHONY sound-screen (repeats of "I'm coming, I'm coming," and the cock sucking slurps are SO stagy it's almost embarrassing) and it's AMAZING. Stay to see it a second time to see previews of "INCEST," which is coming, with LOTS of juicy come scenes and an INCREDIBLE spray from someone who seems to be Joe D'Angelo, and the Christy twins and that lovely film of "Brothers" that I've liked each time, so I may GO see it. Though the Eros is expensive with the LIVE show for $6, and Roger's only on for 20 minutes, dancing sillily around, interspersed with slides, staring at the audience, and taking off his rubber pants to turn and watch a film of his jerking off that he then turns to show a SEMI-erection from, to the ONLY applause. Then, Sunday, "Harley's Angels" was awful of phoning people, including the macho guy with the titted blond that Rick has, and then "MEN BETWEEN THEMSELVES" was recommended by Rolf, and it DOES have a HUMPY guy who goes in for a few simulated scenes until someone sucks on his NICE cock, but his biceps and chest and stature and legs are exceptional. It's filmed at a nice French chateau overlooking wooded hills and cultivated green fields, and has a plot that's fun to read about afterward, though the French wasn't subtitled and the sound was so bad I couldn't make out any of the words. Lots of simulation, but also lots of sexy action, like the jerk-off on the black with the RED cock, a withdrawal from an ass that shows a small shower, but GENERALLY these guys have SMALL cocks and they're not EASY to come up, so it's mainly good for DECOR.


DIARY 12270


Just up between 73rd and 75th (or maybe higher) on Columbus---and thus intriguingly close to the influence of Star Center, though the Nickel Bar is even closer, I guess), on the east side of the street, with blacked-out façade, is the jacketed magazine rack and glass-cased movie front that gives entrance, for a 50-cent piece got at the cashier's, to a tiny anteroom with four movie rooms off to the side, a john with a darkroom to the back, and a strange loft above. Some pretty people but they weren't looking at me: the shirtless tanned one who glared at everyone until he found a cutie and took him into a film booth and then left; taller guys who found each other, and Spanish types who cruised in and out of booths. I watched a film about three or four guys with big cocks and comes in one booth, not disturbed, but two other booths were broken and one booth was always filled with someone unpleasant. No, another BOOTH DID have a film of fist-fucking, poor quality film AND people, that I watched. But the scene in the blackroom was completely by feel, no one was looking at me with ANY degree of interest, and even Rick left fairly early, saying he wasn't getting anything and DIDN'T get anything all week except my cock books and his own hand. I got into standing and watching the people, but there wasn't even any PERSONABLE action, no one meeting who looked like they might even TALK to each other, let alone become friends, and even the dynamite duos who paired off into the booths came out within ten minutes and went their own ways or left. The turnover was fairly great, but I can't see how the place can make money with even 20 half-dollars deposited each hour, and no one seemed to be buying anything. Older men looked glumly about, but there weren't even any nicely displayed cocks on the older men to make things interesting. Most of the kids looked only at each other, which depressed me, I suppose, but then I wasn't particularly sexily dressed in my "tourist" checked pants without a crotch. Stared and got more tired and depressed with the no-activity, and finally got up the courage to say that NOTHING was going to happen, so there was no use of staying around, so I passed by the cute salesperson and left.


DIARY 12923


Since both sides were every-other-seat full, I sat in the middle for a bit, and the black on the right let the older guy ever righter take out his cock and play with it, and finally the guy on my left left and I could slide down into his seat, next to a shadowy figure two seats over, and then he returned and by damn sat right next to me. I looked at my farther neighbor, and he kept looking at me, and once he sort of played with his tight crotch, but he never gave me anything of a motion, and I decided "What the hell" and moved to the next seat, and he didn't move. I got cold for awhile and he kept looking at me, and reacting to the movie, but finally put his right arm up on the chair back, leaving the crotch area free, so I moved my hand over, and down, and there was a nice thick tube along his left pant leg, which got thicker as I massaged it gently down the leg, and only when he pressed DOWN hard on it did it start getting ROCK hard, and then I reached for his zipper, took him out while he winced, and then he moved my hand away (I thought for the last time) and he wriggled around and slid down his pants, so that I could have free reign over his shortish, very hard, soft-headed, and with such a lot of easy moving skin that I thought he just must be uncircumcised, and though I fleetingly debated going down on him, there were enough people passing by, and he turned his head around and stopped my hand often enough, that it would have been too paranoia-causing. So I played and played and played, and then moistened my fingers with spit, and HE added some on the shaft, and I started gripping, then he stopped me, I could stop and feel his cock pulse again and again, and we continued THIS a few times until he sort of lay back in his chair and I continued slowly, slowly, and then it jerked, got even harder, sprung a leak, and I could feel the semen rippling past my fingers once, twice, three times, four times, wetting both of us completely, and he scrunched up his face and looked at me and I smiled and he SORT of smiled, then after a few spasms more firmly moved my hand away and offered me a tissue, using 2-3 on his own body, and then he just got up and LEFT! At the intermission I surprised Dennis and another guy non-peeing at the urinals, when I came out of the stall the guy was zipping up and leaving, and Dennis said that he'd shot off in JUST that time, just as he touched him ONCE! Incredible!