MAN'S COUNTRY
Since John didn't want to go back to Nikolais, and I didn't want to see the worst "Somniloquy" again, he decided also he couldn't afford the baths and wanted to go to the Eagle's Nest, and I figured this was the perfect chance to try the place without anyone else around, difficult since it WAS in John's backyard. I debated smoking, but felt so spaced-out with the vague illness that I didn't think I needed it, though I drank lots of sherry to get mildly dizzy while shaving in preparation. Over in the biting cold, and down the deserted stairs to the little sign-in window, took a mini-locker, and in the presence of only two or three voices, resigned myself to a vacant evening. Get a key and clogs (very long and too narrow) wrapped in an orange-striped towel, and the attendant rings up a nicely-haired young usher who leads me into the brightly-lit locker room and shows me locker 9, after opening locker 6 with only a little difficulty with the same key. I strip under the observation of an awful old fellow with a wig-looking head of hair and scrawny shanks, hoping there might be someone better upstairs. Wander the ground floor, peeping into the mirrored and equipped gym with no evidence of use since it had opened, back to the sauna, equally empty, and up the stairs to the discothèque-noises coming from above. There was a dimly lit TV lounge with someone I couldn't make out lounging in a towel on the sofa, and a few people were dancing, one in tight white pants. But still no one, really. Upstairs again to the rooms, and wander around in many tiny areas, not having any idea where I was, and finally find one of the double-doored dormitories. In to sounds of slurping, and someone fairly large and well-shaped silhouettes before the doorway for a bit, but it's just too dark and depressing, so I move out without touching anyone. At least I know there are people in there somewhere. Wander around to the side and there's a red-lit room which pleases me with four mattresses strewn on the floor, but there's no one there. Wander around a bit more, discovering there's no one with a room-door open, and come back to the red room to find someone only faintly attractive standing inside the door. What the heck, I have to start somewhere! So I reach toward him and feel his gone-to-flab chest, then down to his towel and there's a length which is getting lengthier, and he reaches for me and we play with each other until we're vaguely up, and then someone else steps into the doorway and starts playing with himself. The fellow I started with pulls my hand away and grabs himself, and I think he's turned off, but when I reach down to him, his cock is moist, though it's still not really hard, and I figure to finish whom I have, first, before looking at anyone else. I lead him over to the mattress, and he sits down while I feel him all over, and then he goes down on me as I get excited looking at the nice shape masturbating in the doorway, and I go down on him for only a bit before he pushes my head into his fleshy crotch, and I think there's the emission from possibly the third or fourth orgasm of the evening, and he quickly goes down. Then he looks embarrassed and leaves, and I lay voluptuously back and play with myself, while the guy in the door goes into terminal hardness, with a cock that curves upward with such a distinctive volume and displacement that I'm reminded forcibly of the erotic Greek ashtray so often pictured, with the almost pump-handle graspableness of erection. That sends me upward, too, and the fellow comes toward me, and we play with each other for a bit, and then get into 69 position so that I can do that cock justice, and it's so firm and rounded and lobed and veined and juice is so easily squeezed from the engorged opening at the tip that I'm enormously taken with it, kissing it and licking it and sticking my tongue around its opening, squeezing his balls and loving just to regard the beauty in the dim red light. Others come to the door, but we're so obviously engrossed that they pass us by, and I continue turning and regarding that most movingly lovely cock, and then he curves even harder onto his stomach and starts breathing heavily, and I continue to play until he says "It's all for you, baby," and I go down on it as it spasms to maximum circumference and shoots a great load down my welcoming throat for what MUST have been his first come of the evening. He stops working on my salivating cock, and I continue gourmandizing him until he's quite down, just lying back and enjoying it, and I run my hands over his most-smooth flesh and prominent chest and nice legs and silky pubic hair, none anywhere else except just under his arms, and after about 15 minutes of that, he whispers becomingly, "I'll give you just one week to stop that." Others are coming still to the door, and he turns his head upward to regard them with a mixed look of satisfaction and triumph, and finally I'm aware of my own scent from not having showered, and want to terminate this since it seems to be going nowhere, so I say I have to shower, and he tells me they're on the ground floor. Down and shower, then into the sauna, where two fellows are talking, and the older one talks about the business of the Continental and how this one plans to add another floor, and he leaves, followed soon after by the rather nice one, and I'm into the shower again to find the nice one showering, but there seems to be little contact, and though his body is quite acceptable, his manner lacks, and I dry off and go upstairs again. Towels make it easy to tell one person from another, and there are some vague overtures, but I don't see anyone I like until the fellow with the jug-handle cock passes me in the hall and gropes me again, and we end up necking in the anteroom-hall to the red room, currently dark and occupied. We're going at it very nicely with soft caresses and cock squeezes, but there's a jingle of keys and he says "Cover it up, it's the cop" and a tight-trousered, open-necked shirted fellow comes past bent on seeing what's going on, but doesn't say anything, and then doll is saying "It's empty" and the lights are on again and we're at it AGAIN. I want to prolong it a bit this time, and others seem to feel free to join in, the fellow, or someone like him, I'd done before, and someone else comes up behind me. I keep working over the doll, more or less showing off to the world what I've gotten to wrap MY lips around, and after a longer time, which I deeply love, but I'm down during, since I don't know what the fellow behind me looks like, he strains into an orgasm AGAIN, while trying to do someone else, and I raise up to feel someone straining at me from behind, get them away from my ass, and rotate to find a not-unacceptable body with a pot looming above me with a hardening dick, and I suck away on that until he gets larger and HE comes. When I raise my head from this, I find that I'm the center of a group of four which has attracted four or five watchers around us, and as I sit up, most of them leave, finally all but one, a chesty dark-haired blond lounging on the sofa across the way, and I decide he looks nice enough from what I can see myopically across the distance, and I'll never find out more without getting closer, so I move next to him and his face is older than I would have thought, but I run my hands along his chest, and quickly displace his towel, and he has lovely legs and a nice torso, and his brushed cock quickly gets quite hard, and I do down on it quite gently and voluptuously, and he lays himself out under my hands, so I can feel where I'd like, and his legs and hips are nice, and before I'm really very tired, HE comes, and I'm rather amazed at the ease with which I've had five comes at THIS early time! He goes down and I run my fingers over his trembling body, and he says he's ticklish and that I certainly do like to feel. I agree and we lay together for a bit longer, and then he leaves. I'm feeling tired already, and it's hardly like the first hour finished, and I absolutely love the place, especially my special red "green room." Lounge around a bit, but singles come in and don't stay, so finally I decide to prowl some more, and down in the lounge get a surprise when the "cop" comes to the periphery of the viewing area and rubs his crotch provocatively, and later I see him sitting on the sofa, hands fanned over tight trousers. I don't get it. Wander around the lounge to look at the notice of defeat of Intro 475 on Thursday, posted by GAA, find no one there, no one anywhere else except upstairs, so I'm back, trying the dormitory again, but that's no good, and back to the red room to see someone looking vaguely like Bill B., but somewhat nicer, and I play with his body for a bit, then get down to large lumpy balls but a small cock, small, that is, until I play with it in a definitive fashion and it grows to its wonted size, and I play and play and excite him, and despite the crowds of people gathering around, and even the fellow who tries to do ME while I'm kneeling before him. I soon get tired of bent knees and try to make him come, and it works very nicely, because he comes up to maximum strength and shoots with a great groan, and keeps shooting while I lick, and keeps groaning and thrusting and throwing his head about as I continue to tantalize him, and finally my legs can't take it any longer and I stand, and we're next to each other and start kissing, and he's a fabulous necker, so we stand for about half an hour, necking and kissing and rubbing, and he finally goes down on me, but I don't feel at ALL like coming, and pull him back to his feet with "Let's leave it like it was," and we kiss for a bit longer until there's just nothing left, and I feel like I really DO own the room. Down to look around a bit more, and though there are two people in the shower, there doesn't seem to be any activity down there, and the sauna is still empty. There IS no steam bath, as everyone said. Then find from the campy Spanish-speaking attendants that it was a bit after 11, later than I thought it was, so I made one last covering of most of the areas, and still the darkened dormitories were the scenes of activity, though many of the rooms seemed to have lights on, there were no sounds coming from them. A few blacks had appeared, none of them very appealing, and no one seemed to be going after them, and I looked into the red room a couple of times, but no one was around, and I decided to stop pressing my luck, and went downstairs to follow someone out of a mini-locker (in dressing, not in standing), and someone else came down for cigarettes and seemed to linger around enough for me to get the idea, but I really felt that I'd had the best of the whole place: there may have only been 30-40 people there, but with the six comes I had in my mouth through the evening, and the lovely red room, this was my favorite place of them ALL! (RETURN TO JOURNALS 2/1/72).
TSI-DUN AT N.'S
Graham in the vestibule referred to the likeness of this evening to the afternoon at Jimmy R.'s in New Jersey, and I expressed surprise that he and another group of people had gotten there ON time and had found no one at home, so I explained with puzzlement our telephoning him, saying that the party HAD been held, and at that point the door buzzer finally went, and the seven or eight of us waiting downstairs started the trek up the stairs to the 6th floor, passing a very puzzled matron on her way down, and we laughed about the simple circumstance of her looking at this parade of revelers to the top floor. There are lots of people there already, but all sitting around in the small lit apartment with their clothes on! I figure we're waiting for some kind of announcement, and grab a beer and squeeze a place on the sofa, looking at awful John R. sitting across the way, but there are lots of pleasant faces around: one under rose-colored glasses to my right, a trio of slender blonds sharing a joint at my left, and a heavy-set fellow with very pleasant eyes, again, now that I think of it, rather like Bill B.'s, but I find out after he gets his clothes off that "fat" would be a better word than "heavy-set," and since he makes no direct attempt to be with me, I find it easy enough to leave him alone. Peter C. appears, tackling a lovely large blond down the sofa a bit, and there's a hassle when the place gets very crowded, and then the lights go out and people start undressing. But so slowly that I think something different in the line of sexual stimulation might happen: say everyone deciding to treat everyone else to a slow strip, since many people have made my observation that it's more exciting watching people REMOVE their clothes than to be presented with a nude body. But John R. quickly gets down to some mesh shorts, and other chubbies have stripped and taken over the bedroom already, so I slowly disrobe with others and sit watching everyone's limpness. See a nice flank near the sofa and start touching and caressing, but neither of us comes up completely, so we gradually part for better company. Peter and I spot each other early on, smiling and silently agreeing to look elsewhere for stimulation this evening. I see the tall wide-spaced-eye fellow that I'd done at Don S.'s, but forgot that he didn't care for necking, and watching someone down on him, and we got into a three-handed job for a bit, but nothing came of that either. Peeped into the bedroom and there were fucking bodies all over the place, but it was close and hot and the doorway was blocked, so I was back into the living room to find a few other cuties that I'd noticed, but nothing came of any of it. Had another beer and sat in a chair, observing, and one of the slender blonds stood in front of me, so I reached out and we kissed and necked, and I stood up, but again there was no spark, so we amicably parted for someone more mutually stimulating. Tried the fellow with glasses, but he didn't come up, was on the flabby side, and others reached for me that I didn't care for, and so with the evening about half gone, I seem to have gone through most of the possibilities with no success. The lovely blond was doing someone writhing above him, and I reached out for a pleasantly pillowy chest to do some nipple-tweaking, and he reached around for me and we necked wildly, and there was something going for a bit, but the blond lay back on the sofa to work on himself and I went to him, to find a rather cold rebuff, so after trying again with the nice-bodied one and getting nowhere, I again set myself free from that molecule and whirled atomically around the room looking for another valence bond. Peter and I looked at each other with a degree of exasperation, and then started necking while someone was doing him and he quickly turned away and came wholly to me. We necked and kissed and tweaked and sucked, and finally I went down on him when he seemed to desire it, and he pushed himself into orgasm in my mouth, and I started handing myself off, getting mightily excited to be able to do it standing, and he didn't seem to want to go down on me, but stood almost worshipping my body, and when I came he drew me close to him so that my spasms were mashed against his stomach and groin, where he held me tightly and we kissed and sighed and sweat in the jostling doorway to the bedroom where we stood. Then stood in line for the john, where we washed off the semen of our encounter and laughed about the paucity of people so that we had to rely on each other again, and I found someone in the line in back of us to neck with, but he was gone when I came out. Some of the crowd was beginning to leave as early as 9:30, and I asked the host if there was a deadline, and he insisted everyone could stay as long as he wanted. There was another beer, and Peter offered me a part of his chocolate-papered joint, so we smoked, and I bounced around looking for one last shot for the road. The large blond was standing around unattached, and I made advances that he couldn't refuse to him, and finally he got interested in necking and we played with each other for awhile, and I truly dug his muscular, though ever-so-slightly soft, body and truly magnificent legs. We steered each other over toward a chair, and he flopped back into it so that I could go down on him while running my hands up and down his lovely body, and when I didn't do any good on his cock, he reached down and started whacking away at himself, and I was vaguely reminded of myself at a number of parties, being a sort of center of attention, but finding no one to make me come, finally WANTING to come and no one seeming to want to oblige, so that finally I'd settle on practically ANYONE to take my cock into his mouth after I jerked off, more for the physical relief than for anything else. So I gourmandized his entire body, blond and smooth and beautifully voluminous in proportions, though his cock was on the small side, and he finally got to the edge of (Hm, nice portmanteau word) his orgasm and shoved his cock into my mouth, where it grew and pulsed in a way that showed me it had to be his first. I kept down on him, reaming the edge of his sensitive head with my tongue, and he threw himself about in his chair, as if gasping out his frustrations and desires of the evening, and I enjoyed the tensings and flexings of his body under my fingers, until he couldn't stand it anymore and held me immobile on his body, where I could feel the blood circulating, the breath coming in and out, the tiny residual spasms of his released physicality, and we caressed briefly and he thanked me, and then I rather dizzily got to my feet to see what ELSE was around. But there wasn't anything else around, and though there were some dregs left at the bottom of the party, I decided I really didn't need any of them, and got into my clothes and paid another visit to the bathroom and left. Seemed to descend the stairs eternally, remembering, as always, the definite feelings of infinities when I went up and down the marble stairways in Marc's apartment in Meknes, and this had six flights to play with, and I went down and down, steadying myself at each landing, not even desiring to count, fearing that I'd lose count, think I had it, and panic when I reached seven or eight without touching bottom. Got to the door and sort of gravitated toward the right direction to the subway, maybe trying to make myself out as more stoned than I really was, but got to the subway without incident and stood on the platform, trying to walk straight, wondering whether the people who observed me would notice anything unusual at all, or whether I'd fade into the general anomie of New Yorkerdom. Or if they did notice me, would they figure, with my square clothes, that I was merely drunk on booze rather than high on grass. But few people looked at me, and there was a complete absence of paranoia---but there were no observers regarding my quizzically, no policemen to give me the opportunity, nothing out of the ordinary happening that I could latch onto and distort. The subway was noticeably noisy and fast, and I had the exhilarating knowledge of a rapid ride. Also, I was starved, dropping a dime into a candy machine for a Chunky, happy to be able to pay so little, and gobbled that down with great satisfaction. When the subway didn't come, and there was another candy machine, I deposited 154, happy that I had the change, and got a pair of peanut butter cups, and the gritty butter and soft chocolate made my throat sing with delights of texture and taste and sweetness. After I got out at Brooklyn, I skimmed the display, but actually FORGOT what I got, but felt wicked and self-indulgent for guzzling goodies with my high. (RETURN TO JOURNALS 2/5/72).
MAN'S COUNTRY II
John suggested that I wouldn't be able to get more than admission, so I almost held my breath as I slipped across the pass, and I saw him writing down an "R" entry, and knew I had a room. He asked for security and I gave him my wallet with $3 in it, and then entered the door to be led by another lovely guy to room 22, which was just at the top of the stairs, with the doorway nicely framed in the light from the hall, right at the end. I closed the door to undress, and then went out to see who else was there. There seemed to be no one else in the rooms, and even one of the orgy rooms was now lit, and I could see the symmetric arrangement of four beds, two on either side of the partition, and the orgy room that I liked so much was empty, too, so the only action was in the dorm which was alone, and though there were sounds of activity, I couldn't see anyone, so I decided to see what else was available. There seemed to be a nice torso watching television, and a few people in the bar area, and downstairs there were a few people in the sauna, John being one of them, sucking away on a fellow with a bump of intestines making his form unpleasant. Another lay stretched out on the bench below me, one knee raised, and I tried playing with his tiny cock, but soon a hand came out and stopped me, and I decided to leave. Back upstairs and nothing, again, was doing, so I sat on one of the beds alongside the action area, watching people come in and out, and there was only one nice person, and he passed me by. I tried the little orgy room and there were two people very much engaged, and they didn't seem to want any additions, and out in the hall I passed the youngish fellow with the nice chest, and reached down to fondle his tits and run my hands up and down his sides, but he didn't seem to respond, and rather quickly moved away. A tour of the rooms showed one room that was open, and the guy seemed reasonably passable, but when I entered the doorway he shook his head. Fine average: two tries and two refusals. Down for a shower and looked around more, but there was nothing to do but go back to the room and let them come to ME. I only lay there about three minutes when a passably cute young number loitered in the hall, and lingered by the doorway. I was afraid he'd turn tail and run, so I smiled and beckoned him into the room. He entered and sat at the end of the bed, rubbing my leg lightly, and I told him to close the door. He did so reluctantly, and I still felt that I might see him exiting suddenly any moment. He sat back down on the bed and ran his hands up my legs, and we chatted aimlessly about the baths, and I told him to come closer, so that I could feel his body around, and he did so, and I got his towel out of the way and his young torso ended in a thin patch of pubic hair and a thick dangly cock which quickly started rising, and I came up quickly, and we sat looking hypnotized at each other's signs of passion, and we started pulling and tugging on them. Then he lay down on top of me and started making as if to fuck me, and I quickly made him understand that I didn't care for that, and he let the matter drop. I asked if he'd ever experienced Baby Magic, and he smiled and enquired as to what it was, and I got out the bottle and rubbed some on him, and his nicely proportioned cock stood out even harder, and I played and played with it while he threw his arms around with abandon and looked me in the eyes with smoldering longings. I made some whispered comments about the attractiveness of his body, and he rather negatively came back with "You're not so bad yourself," and we concentrated on grasping cocks and squeezing to force the blood more strongly into the stiff members, looking at the veins standing out, investigating the tiny pips of nerve endings on the underside of the head, running the loose skin up and down the tense shafts, expressing drops of clear fluid from the head, running the fingers down into the tangled hairs around the testicles and feeling the growing pressures from the prostate, then changing pace by hunting down the legs and up the sides for additional sensations. I tried nibbling on his nipples, but he didn't seem to be turned on by that, and I enjoyed rubbing his body against mine, where the Baby Magic was beginning to have effect all over, and we felt ourselves powerfully sensitized over our entire bodies, with the result that we drew apart and looked at each other fiercely, wanting to crush the other's body in our arms, and at the same time wanting to stand back and simply LOOK at the other's excitement, drink it in as an elixir of love, stimulate our own arousal the more with the other's excitement. We were kissing mightily, though he had a tendency to go at it rather hard, and we banged our heads against our chests and bodies in a frenzy of activity. During the height of frenzy there was a series of knocks on the door, and in my selfish way I thought John was interested in seeing if the room was empty so that he could use it with someone else, but he later said that he knew I had someone inside and he wanted to join us. I could only lamely explain that we were so much in the middle of it that I didn't let him in. He stopped me a number of times from bearing down too hard on his cock, and I knew he was near coming, and he grabbed me firmly and tried to get me off, too, but I directed all my attentions toward him, so I was in no danger of either going down or coming until my attention would either be drawn to myself or to my elevating feelings. But then he seemed to be slightly going down from some of the pauses, and he would no longer stop me when I played with him, and I feared that I might have lost him completely, so I went in for another flurry of kissing and hand-work on his cock, and then when he again started straining toward a climax, I kept up on his cock until he came with a spasm and a spray, and then rather too quickly lay still, exhausted, and I started playing with myself. He crouched above me, enjoying my body, running his hands over my chest and legs and rear, and I strained toward the orgasm, losing my hardness somewhat, but also conscious of the fact that I'd come two or three times already that day. But he seemed aroused again by my activities, and I enjoyed looking at his body and face looking at my body, and panted into the orgasm, which he spread around my body, then lay down beside me, whispering something about how exciting it all was, and we lay quietly regaining our breath and began to talk. His name was Rush, Rush H., and we laughed about that for a bit, I never having been to bed with a Rush, and I did a quick fantasy in which he was a near, and rich, relative of Rush Harrison Kress, but that didn't last long. We chatted about nothing much when John came back to knock on the door again, and though I did feel a bit guilty, I responded not at all to him. We enjoyed touching each other's bodies as we talked about jobs and schooling and living in Brooklyn Heights, and then I felt that I really had enough and wanted to shower, and he said goodbye, saying he hoped he'd see me again, and I went down to the shower, and when Rush came past later I was quite sure I still had some of the stonedness left when he'd entered, because here in the shower, unless he was letting himself go, he had quite a pot and not quite the cute fox-like face I'd seen in the dimness of the room with my jockey shorts thrown over the light bulb as a dimmer. We smiled at each other as we showered, and I later investigated the sauna to find him as the only occupant, and I went upstairs to see if anything had changed, hoping to give the keys to John for his share of the room. There was a lot of bunched activity in the big orgy room, but though I posed in silhouette against the lighted doorways, John didn't appear, and it quickly became apparent that he had left. I looked into the other rooms and found either no one or pairs of people, and I was greatly puzzled by the great crowd on my first night and the lousy crowd tonight. I wandered from hallway to hallway passing by the fragments of "Cleopatra" on the screen of the color-saturated TV, listening to the sounds from my room and thus knowing it was still earlier than midnight. The torso was snoring gently before the TV, and no others of equal beauty came in. In desperation I went back to the room to lay there with the door open, and all the newcomers were awful, except for a faggoty black who was in the next cubicle, and who worked there, it seemed, seeming sexier in torn jeans than in the complete nude. Turned about four or five away from the door and decided that the place had had it for the night, so I dressed and got back to John's just after midnight, and he was still in bed; he'd left about 10 pm. (RETURN TO JOURNALS 2/18/72).
TSI-DUN AT M.'S
The entryway is already filled with disrobing people, even five minutes early, and Carl's the host with a robe on for answering the door, and Heidner astounds with a lovely muscular back which I wouldn't have thought he possessed. Henry's invited lots of his own friends, so there are many beautiful strangers sitting around the sofa and chairs in the living room, and the whole thing is covered with sheets for action. I find no tonic for the vodka, though I'm feeling good from the wine that I had with my hamburger tonight, so I search for something else, and find the astoundingly violet "Amour" cordial, which is quite tasty, and take the drink to a stool in the far corner of the room to see the gathering of the Tsi-Dun clan. Arnie comes over and chats for a bit, hiding his three joints under the carpet, and the first beauty of the evening comes over in youthful muscularity to sit with a group talking with Mike S., and they light up joints and pass them around, so I ask Mike for a puff in the hopes of being included in the pretty group. The joints go around fast and furious, at least four circulating in our group, at least four other groups going around, including John with some bearded person on the sofa. Things get started slowly, people casually feeling up their neighbors, and a gentle 69 starts on my left. Muscle boy seems interested in his blond bearded friend, so I move close to him to see what part of him I can get, and he simply sits quietly. I reach out to touch the stubbly-haired thighs, and he looks at me disdainfully but doesn't move, so I continue, moving up to his well defined bulky arms and chest, but feel a bit sorry when I find that the area below his chest has that smooth, shaved, plastic toughness that I so well associate with the determined weightlifter, and it's as if the skin has had to endure such punishment that it grows about an inch thick, offering padding for the organs beneath, and a surface which will take well to oil which might be laved over it for a glossy sheen in physique photos. He suffers my hands, looking at me from time to time now as if debating, and I think to kiss him, but he doesn't look the cuddly type, and finally he pivots away from me, after giving a particularly piercing stare at some fellow who came up behind him to investigate his fundamentals. I reach out further, but he clasps his hands in a V over his crotch and stands up to move away, and I rationalize that he had a small cock anyway. So I still sit in the middle of the floor, and the fuckers have taken up around me, and an older person who might have had a nice body comes in closely to suck on me, but I get no joy from his body, and move away as soon as it convenient. But there's a young black who moved into the background and I took the opportunity to reach for his arm, and we felt each other until I swiveled around my doer and started feeling his sinewy arms and chest, and played with the cock which was still limp between his legs. After a bit we had only each other, though a dark hairy person sitting on a chair was looking with tenderness on the black, and I saw a threesome developing very pleasantly, so I reached over to the legs of the hairy one as I caressed the black, and then went down on his very loose-skinned cock which got hard but didn't expand terribly, and I enjoyed the anatomic-diagram muscularity of his hairless legs. But then he seemed to be interested elsewhere, and others moved in whom I didn't care for, so I separated myself from that group and went in to have a beer. I came back into the center of the room and saw someone whom I thought was young and pleasant in a chair, but when I reached over to feel him, the band around the bottom of his cock, and the too-great bulge over his pubic area made me think I'd made a mistake, but the action in the room was getting so hot that I was content to sit at crotch level, play with his hardening cock, and watch the action all around. Someone who turned out to be John's friend from the Eagle was groaning and screaming, more for effect than from pain, when someone was fucking him, and others were slapping his ass and shouting, "Drive that cock into him, fuck the bastard, shove it into him," and other expletives aimed at getting everyone in the group interested, and in fact there was quite a forest of legs gathered about the scene in a few moments. I looked up to see that people had made their way up to the mezzanine, and were leaning against the railing either being sucked or fucking, and other groups were involved in 69 and necking around the floor. Then Henry put on the fluorescent lights (ultraviolet lights) which made the sheets glow as if lit from below, and there was a curious shadowless light that made everyone look as if they were floating in translucent clouds in moonlight, giving a curious lack of dimension to the people from lack of shadows, and though lighting the bodies, which I liked, the color was none too flattering, so it was not a good idea for many of the people. By this time the fellow I was playing with was quite hard, but someone else (the ass eater) came up and took him away, so I slipped into the chair and watched the action for a bit until the lights were turned off, and then I decided to see who else had come in, because it seemed there was a constant stream of people undressing in the entryway. Said hello to John and Henry, who made a couple of comments to me, and then back in to sit on the steps to watch the fun. Others were on the steps but they left, and a few cute ones went upstairs, almost tempting me to follow them up, but someone short and well proportioned stood profile to me along the wall, and though it seemed he might be old, his body was quite pleasant, so I idly reached out for the side of one of his legs, and he obligingly moved closer to me and asked for a sip of my beer. I stood up to touch him more fully, and we moved into a kiss that lasted quite a long time because he was remarkably proficient with a pair of very flexible lips, and I ran my hands up and down a body that was remarkably preserved for a face that I took to be either old, black, or Puerto Rican, but I figured that the Spanish blood would make him affectionate, and he surely was. We stood for a few moments until he suggested we lie down, and then he got out his popper and gave it to me, and I got my rush which, in conjunction with the pot that I was feeling only very slightly, made me quite excited with him, and we played with each other's bodies until we were middling hard, but the effect of his smooth skin, bulky shoulders and chest, narrow waist, and marvelously rounded buttocks were too pleasant to ignore, so I went up and down his body, playing and tweaking his tiny, hard tipped nipples, enjoying the play of movements through his muscles, running my fingers up and down his legs. I had only the slightest fantasy that this was finally a person who could be as imaginative, supportive, inventive, and affectionate as I was, and I wouldn't long have to feel that I controlled the situation, but we could share the program for the evening, and I found myself being supported and cuddled and kissed in truly marvelous ways. We told each other that we liked each other, and aside from other feet and knees which threatened to move us out of the way, we only had the fact that we were right on the edge of the carpets to content with, scooting downward or to the side every few minutes to make it easier for the one on the bottom. He was grinding his cock into my belly, and moved lower, reaching his hands around to my ass, and I definitely moved to let him know I wasn't interested, and he didn't make a play for fucking again, though later he appreciatively explored my backside for tactile purposes only. I went down on him, enjoying the feel of his body under my hands, but he wasn't terribly hard, which made my semi-softness more acceptable, and he went after the popper container again and again, and then had to get another one, and I had a moment's worry that he wasn't coming back, but there he was, after I made a brief foray toward someone else who wasn't interested in me. Then we took deep sniffs and were transported into a frenzy of caresses, and I lay back with my eyes closed as he worked his body above me, and I had the idea that I might actually end up fucking him, which he seemed to want, though I wasn't hard enough for him to take it and penetrate anything. Then the activity at the center, howls of pain and shouts of appreciation and slaps of masochism, attracted his attention, and he sat on my crotch, whacking away at his stiffening cock, and I took myself in hand, marveling at his body and loving the way he seemed to enjoy his self-stimulation. We played with each other together, despite the fact that we were both limp, and then went back to the bodies which gave us such pleasure. Then he moved around to a crouching position, and I clasped him around the waist and started doing him, and then his hand came to my rescue and whacked away at himself until he seemed to be ready, and I dove in on it, still fairly soft, and he came up and spurted into my mouth, and I continued fooling with the cock and balls until he fairly groaned with pleasure, and then pulled me up and we necked in an even more pleasant fashion. He went down on me again, and I aided him with my hand, and then went for more popper, and finally he sat above me, and I had the old fantasy that everyone was looking at me as I strained toward my orgasm, and I could hear comments from the sides, like "Look at that, and I'll take the one on THIS side," and "How about that," and assumed they were directed toward me. During one of the pauses, I saw what I took to be the muscle boy looking at me with renewed interest with my partner, but he didn't offer to join in, so we didn't have him. Then he started playing with himself toward orgasm again, and I found that very exciting, and I played with myself until I was at the point of coming, and we were necking furiously, though I wanted him to go down on me, but he didn't want to leave my lips, so I shot upward onto his bent back, and he and I gasped our breathlessness together, and then he gently rolled off me and played in my semen on my stomach, and we kissed ever so tenderly and fondled each other, and lay together peacefully. His name was John, and he was a resident at St. Vincent's Hospital, which really blew my mind, and he'd been in the army for two years, and had just been on a vacation to St. Thomas, where he'd gotten his tan. He wasn't Spanish, but Italian, with one parent from the north and one from the south, which I said was a lovely combination. We necked until we felt excited again, and started playing with each other all over, and then he started cuddling me in his arms, supporting me, taking my weight off my supporting arm as we sat on the floor, and it was all terribly pleasant. Then he went down to kiss around the back of my waist, and when I turned to the left to see his head coming around, I saw that it was John who was being disturbed by his motions, and the heads remained apart for a bit, and then I sort of pushed them together, and they kissed briefly, and then I got into a position between them, said, "John, this is John," deftly avoided indicating WHICH John I was introducing to WHICH John, and placed their heads together again, John was being done by some curly haired blond, and I went down to see what he was doing, but he soon moved out of the way. Then the three of us sat upright in the center of the floor, where I dimly realized that many of the people had left already, and we started a triangular kiss of consummate pleasure, though I had sort of the flattering idea that THEY were both kissing ME, but that my tongue and nose operated as a boundary beyond which they each wouldn't push to encounter the other, and I took care to make John feel that he wasn't being left out, and kissed him alone for some minutes, while John went down on him. Then John went down on John's standardly upright cock, and I slid down to help him, and we tossed the cock back and forth in our mouths, which John, with his penchant for the perverse, seemed to enjoy immensely. Then I'd suck for a bit, then John would take over while I manipulated the testicles in the way that he so likes, and this kept on for a bit, while I took care that the sessions where John left the pubic area to kiss only me were kept short so that John wouldn't feel like an interloper, but an equal third of the triptych. This kept up with varying angles for quite awhile, and John seemed near to coming, but John didn't seem interested in taking him, so we sort of moved into a position of mere affection, and I relaxed back on a body, stroking the legs, and was quite flabbergasted to find that it was a FOURTH person who was lying behind us, and I twisted around in surprise to see the face, but in the shadows I couldn't determine if it was pleasant or not. I lay back with abandon, feeling truly strange, with a smile activating my lips in a totally uncontrollable way, feeling just fabulous with the world. (I'd forgotten that my contacts went through a period of irritation from the smoke in the room, and I was tearing and tearing, making me feel terribly affectionate, and hoping John would think that I was crying over the beauty of our newfound relationship, which wouldn't be too far from the truth.) But then Henry came into the picture, seeming to sit on the periphery and put his hand into the action, and I didn't care for that in a good-humored way, so I smiled and chuckled and shook my head, saying "Too MUCH," and got away from the group in the center of the floor, getting my glass and pouring myself some more "Amour," entirely pleased with the evening. John came out very soon after and looking at the clock we were astounded to see that it was 11:45, and he said we should leave, but I insisted that we get John's name for future reference, and with only a bit of prodding he said he'd be interested in seeing him "when he's fresher," since John had gone down on HIM during a moment when we three were jerking away at each's own cock, but nothing had happened. There was another nicely built person with dead white skin and jet black body hair, the contrast being quite striking, but John sort of half-advanced, and then stopped, saying with a sigh, "I guess it has to stop SOMEWHERE," and I debated going over, but he must have relaxed in his standing tension, because a few moments later he looked more puffy than muscular. Most everyone seemed to be leaving then, and Arnie pushed through the crowd to say that he wanted to go back with us, though I was sorry neither of them had their car. John looked bright eyed and mottled of skin in the light, but the lips were still overwhelmingly sensual when I kissed him goodbye, saying I'd see him soon. Kissed Henry goodbye, though he certainly looked anything but attractive standing forlornly at the door with an unpleasant large pubic area under a sagging body. Other cute ones were leaving at the same time, and I again smiled at the loveliness of the evening, and John had to admit it was one of the best orgies he'd ever been to, and Arnie said it was FAR more people and FAR more active than at Betty's, and I also judged it to be one of the VERY best. (RETURN TO JOURNALS 2/24/72).
BEACON BATHS
One spectacular fellow is checking out just as we check in, and John had mentioned that the time to come was 4 pm, because that's when the businessmen came in for the weekend blow job before going home to their wives. The rates were staggeringly expensive: $6.25 for a locker, and $8.50 for a room, which may explain why there was a waiting line for rooms. I had $11 with me, and owed John $5, so I gave him the $5 and he had to lend me a quarter for bus fare back home in case we left alone. I got locker 69, and we were led past the toweled bodies to the standup lockers, but everyone seemed to be doing something in theirs right next to ours, so it was quite crowded, and I was disappointed that I didn't see anyone that I particularly liked. Wrapped the towel around me and took off exploring, to find the sauna empty and like all the others, the shower had a couple of people in it and what looked like a towel-wrapped mattress for people to walk on to dry off. There were lots of rooms with people lying inside with the doors open, but in the extreme darkness it was hard to make out anything more than vague shapes inside: enough to tell whether a man was white or black, 95 to 395 pounds, but not much between. I wandered in and out of the hallways without seeing anything interesting, then past the fairly crowded TV lounge to the stairs to go up, and walked around past the "Observation Deck" which was a closet with a window, essentially, with no one inside, and around the other halls of open doors, and into the Arena, spot-lit by a revolving mirror around a light, with someone sitting at the piano playing with someone who was singing. Around and around and find no one interesting and begin to get rather discouraged. Downstairs again and look into an open doorway at the end of a short hall, and the person looks as if he might be young and nicely built, so I sidle in and stare down, but there's no movement. I reach for his cock, and it's short and not terribly interesting, though finally it comes up into a squat hardness which I play with for a bit, and he reaches down to play with himself, so that it might be interesting, but the door's remained open and someone else came in to interpose HIS hand at my cock, and then he goes down on my nipples without touching the other person, and the other person reaches for my cock, but nothing's terribly interesting, my eyes haven't even gotten enough accustomed to the dark to see whether he's young or old, and so I turn shortly and leave. Still nothing on the ground floor, so I'm back upstairs, trying hall after hall, and someone's just leaving his room, fairly short, with a lovely body with a thin waist and large chest with two enormous nipples sticking out from it. I pass and smile and he immediately unlocked the door again and we go in, and we start kissing, which is pleasant, and I feel his lovely chest and roam down to his cock, which is very tiny, and play with it in hopes it'll come up, but it doesn't. I start twirling his nipples and he breathes heavily and bears down on my mouth, so I continue to play and he sits down on the bed and begins to do me, and I'm excited enough to get hard, playing with my hands over his broad back, enjoying the sight of his muscles in the dim light. But then he lays back and I run my hands over his front while he reaches for a jar of Vaseline and sticks his fingers up his ass. Oh, oh, Then he's on his feet and turns his back to me, pressing up against me and reaching around for my cock, which he tries to stuff up his asshole. I stand passively, rapidly losing my erection, and he tries stuffing it in, and I can think of nothing to do, so he seems to get the tip in and takes his hands away, so I can look down and see his nice body, but nothing of his face, and necking is impossible. I vaguely think of getting an erection, but it just doesn't seem to be working, so after trying to get him interested in other things, I finally have to say, "Sorry, it's just not my dish," and I leave. Walk around and around, the Arena empty this time, with someone old and awful sitting on the perch in the Observation Room. Other doors open don't look interesting, and I'm back downstairs to see the Lufthansa type from Fire Island as the best one I've seen all evening, but he's sitting in a chair watching the people playing with each other in the shower. I get disgusted with the whole scene, figure there has to be SOMEONE sexy there, and sit down in a chair to watch the world pass by. Well, there DIDN'T seem to be anyone interesting. Everyone was 50-70, pot bellied, balding, spindly legged, and saggy of face. The longer I sat the more discouraged I got, and even the light-skinned black, who under better circumstances might have been acceptable, turned me off, merely by his associating with such an awful crowd. Fat ones, skinny ones, 40-year-old teenagers with their towels at half-mast over asses, gentlemen who may have been dignified and worth talking to in a bar in a suit, now sallow and experts in sidelong glances with self-effacement because of their bodies. Dumpy blacks and short squat persons, and every so often the pushy loud attendants with incongruous shorts pulling sheeted laundry in corpse-bundles along the hallway. I'd first been turned off by the outstretched hand for a tip when I was shown to my $6.25 locker, and I cringed each time I heard his overloud "Thank you," to some new sucker. The Lufthansa bodybuilder sauntered by looking straight ahead, and another bearded type who may have been appealing sat to my left, then vanished down the hall. Others more awful stewed at my right, trying to think of something to say, but I made it obvious my answer would be no. One or two very heavily haired persons passed, and I thought fleetingly it might be fun to play with their chests and cocks, but in my mood I seemed really for nothing. The room door just ahead of me opened and what appeared to be two fairly attractive young ones came out headed for the shower, but by that time I was gone. My ploy was to sit and count VERY slowly to 150, then slowly back to zero, to allow a very long five minutes to pass, then I got up and moved to look into the shower, and though there were a few nicely muscled older specimens, when John finally showed up, I asked if he was ready to leave, and he said he COULD, and I said he should, and he said he was in and out of many rooms, and there were many lovelies. I said I hadn't seen any, but in the elevator was a cute face I'd seen before and refused for a too-slim body. Felt just AWFUL! (RETURN TO JOURNALS 3/6/72).
TSI-DUN AT V.'S
Got there just at 9, riding up in the elevator with a cutie, and meeting Ed B. at the door, who immediately met people he knew inside. There weren't too many people to start with, and I got a beer and wondered why the lovely canopied bed wasn't there anymore, and someone said he was changing this apartment into an office, so the sofa bed made sense. John C. came in, too, and we sat on the sofa together talking after undressing, and Peter was there, and I felt quite familiar with everyone. Then John went down on John C, and we necked a bit, and someone went down on me whom I didn't care for, peering up at me to see why I wasn't getting hard, and someone went down on the guy NEXT to me, and it was just too symmetric, so I got up, beginning to feel the solitary puff I took on John's pipe, and went into the kitchen for a vodka and tonic. Above the refrigerator door was a lovely face that I did NOT recognize as being Dan from the Central Park West party, and I flipped completely when I saw Alan again in the kitchen, his wide shoulders seeming almost too large for the room, his light skin looking marvelous from the overhang of his tits over his ripply abdomen, and his completely rounded ass was too good to be true. Into the living room and stood in the doorway, wondering how to touch him, and he sat down on a bench, immediately two others took up "watch and wait" positions near the two lovelies, and I figured I'd better move in if I was ever going to get anything. Sat down next to him and reached over, and he said hello and said he'd been at the CPW one, and I was flattered that he remembered me. He bent over to kiss me and I went out of my mind feeling the contours of his body in the awkward sitting position. When it was quite clear the kissing could continue, I suggested we stand up, and then the positions got even more perfect: being held in those muscled arms, feeling the enormous breadth of those shoulders, running my hands up that furrowed back, feeling the flesh of those cheeks, feeling him rubbing his cock against mine: it was just mind-blowing. I further said we should go into the bedroom and he agreed, and again we kissed and manhandled each other across our torsos. He stayed quite soft, yet I refused to believe he wasn't enjoying himself as he grabbed my shoulders firmly and rubbed my chest across his chest like two stones trying to strike sparks. And the sparks flew! I puffed my pectorals so that I could feel the extraordinarily sensual impressions of his inflated muscles catching and dragging and pulling on mine, catching the harnesses which were his nipples, marveling again at the expanse of chest that he possessed to rub me across. I had the distinct feeling that most of the activity in the room stopped to watch us, and I felt exalted, as I hoped he did, holding him in my arms. Then I rubbed down his back to encounter a head with its mouth buried in his rectal cleft, and hands drifted in from the right side to grasp cocks, yet soft. For a bit we brushed the interlopers off like so many mosquitoes, but then we concentrated on each other's faces and necks and chests and shoulders---more than enough to keep the fingertips occupied and the mind stunned with sensuality---and let those below the waist do what they wished. From the corner of my eye I could see figures encircling us, could see others attaching themselves to the periphery of the construction by sucking or kissing the lower parts of the bodies of those who were kneeling and sitting around us, until I had the impression of some complex Rodin statue, with the central figures erect and commanding in the center of a mountain of flesh comprised of twisted figures pursuing sex. Alan's face contorted from the pressures on his cock, and someone was sucking on me, though I was more concerned with kissing and holding onto that enormous chest. He chewed on my neck and I went to gnawing his biceps, feeling the slip and slide of tendons under his pallid skin, and his blond hair was so thin that I wondered vaguely whether he might not be older than first glance would indicate, but the condition of his body---absolutely optimum---encompassed my universe and I was maddened with the desire to swallow every bit of it. His clutches became more spasmodic, and I reached down to investigate the root of his cock, and found it quite hard, embedded in someone's mouth. I fondled his lingam for moments, and his expression became tortured and his body started thrusting in orgasm, and I clamped myself to his mouth, felt myself being wrapped by his hairless arms, and he burbled into my mouth as he came, gasped and struggled for breath and gasped again, his head rolling back and sideways, yet still furiously kissing me, and I got an impression of the bodies around us vibrating like heated stew in a pot, and the sweat dripped off our bodies onto the celebrants around us. After a few minutes of status orgasmus, he relaxed, the people around us left, and I caressed and petted his body as it untensed and unflexed, and we smiled at each other and he said he had to go back into the living room to sit down and relax a bit. I followed him back, too dazed to think of what else to do, and caressed and kissed him with relief and gratitude. We picked up our drinks and chatted a bit, he reviewing that my friend was John and his friend was Dan, and then Dan came over and I kissed him a bit furtively, since he was having none of it because of self-consciousness about the onion soup which pervaded the air about him. Then he wandered off and Alan said he wanted to go back into the bedroom to watch, and he sat down in the chair, but there was no room for me, so I went back to fill my glass again and looked at others. There were some unpleasant ones who tried to reach out for me, but I twisted gently away from them. Then still trembling from the encounter with Alan, I sat down in a chair to see who else was there, and a slender form sat in the chair next to me, and it was Dan, who'd brushed his teeth or something, but he seemed more willing to neck. So we stood by his chair and started, and again it was a case of a beautiful body, avid necking, yet no indication of penis enlargement. We kept at it a bit, and then he led the way to the sheets on the floor, and he lay on top of me, moving down my body like a kissing snail, then lifting one of my legs and inserting his body between. I'd been up but when he did this I went down, fearing his desires to fuck me. We rolled about on the floor, kissing, and then even went into the bedroom, where I took some Baby Magic and spread it over him, but though his body seemed to want to be responsive, it wasn't, and he even tried playing with himself while I fondled myself, but nothing worked out, and after a few minutes of hugging and kissing, he left the room. I went back to sit in the chair that Alan had vacated and watched the people move in and out. Ed passed to say that he found someone to take his cock and balls immediately, and I was disappointed, because I would have loved to hold Alan while he watched THAT particular scene. Then later Ed said it happened a second time: missed again! Went to the john and Mike S. was in there with his popper case around his neck, and I inhaled a good whiff and went on a tiny rampage with some ordinary people around the place, but most of them were too overweight or over-aged to be interested in. John C. and I hugged for a few moments, and then Peter strolled by and I couldn't resist touching his tiny erection, and we started kissing, and just didn't feel like pulling apart, and though he said he'd come already, I kept sucking on him, feeling the incredible tenseness constricted in that small cock, enjoyed the taste of it in my mouth with comfort, and finally he came, holding me, and we kept playing with each other while exclaiming how ridiculous this all was. We went onto the bed and started playing with each other, and I again was captured by his skill in necking, the flexibility of his small body, the utter readiness of his cock and its response to either strong or light handling. I started jerking on myself because I wanted to come, and he was whacking away at himself, and suddenly there was a mouth on my cock, I was ready to come, so without even looking down to see who received it, I started a long drawn-out orgasm, clutching Peter to me, gasping and groaning through his kisses, as someone's mouth drained me again and again, and it was almost as if Peter knew it would be someone I wouldn't like, because when I tried very gently to see who was down there, he moved into the line of sight so that I couldn't see, and the person moved off, and I lay, drenched in sweat, semen, and saliva, looking vaguely at the figures indulging in sex around us. laughing with Peter as we shook our heads in amazement at his third, or maybe fourth, orgasm of the evening, and he was still erect, ready for more, seemingly completely helpless in my grasp, ready for anything I might want him to submit to. We laughed at our condition, and then I went again into the kitchen for a drink refill, finding myself with an ice-filled glass of vodka, and dizzily spilled half of it into the sink to get some tonic into it. Peered out the living room window for a bit, seeing that it was after 11 already, and someone came next to me, and we kissed lightly, and though I had the feeling it may have been someone I engaged with at some earlier Tsi-Dun, I had no qualms about kissing once and then gently moving away: it was today, and I couldn't have cared less about yesterday. The big-cocked guy from Jersey was there, trying to talk to people I was talking with, and Alan amazed me by entertaining almost anyone who came up to him, including Jersey, and his democracy in receiving anyone was impressive, though maybe that contributed to his momentary impotence. Dan was around again, and I necked with him pleasantly, and avoided V.'s body, gross and bloated from seeming lack of use. Others came and went in my vision, but I had no hardness left in me after my orgasm, and I was feeling quite under the effects of the vodka, a muffled, almost dizzy feeling that threatened to go into unpleasantness if I took any more drinks, so I passed by John (whom I'd encountered about half an hour earlier, and said "Still more to go?" and he smilingly agreed) and said I was ready to leave, and we were shocked to find that it was after 11:30 when we decided to put our clothes on. Most of the people had left by then, but many had come late and were still indulging in the bedroom, but the spark of the evening was over, V. wasn't even answering the door anymore, leaving it to someone else, and we dressed and left, following someone else out to the elevator, riding down and into the cool air, and we walked home while I felt increasingly dizzy and desperate for bed. (RETURN TO JOURNALS 3/18/72).
TSI-DUN AT C. L.'S
The crowd is horrid, mostly old dreadful people watching a solitary couple fucking on the double mattresses upstairs, and I reach out for the only tall handsome chap standing against the mirror, and he moves away, so I move into the doorway to watch. The awful glassed guy from Jersey comes up and starts playing with him, and I'm rather pleased to see that he's not overly large. Glassy one keeps looking at me. Arnie comes up the stairs and watches behind me, and I make an excuse to get a drink and go downstairs. L. is quite impressive with his bulky tan over his blue jeans, but I never see him undress through the evening. Everyone shouts "Mike S. is here, we can start now," and most arrivers are of the caliber of John R., yugh! Then Carl H. comes up the stairs, and we've obviously both been told about our kissing abilities by John, so we start necking, but he's strangely formal and unbending, or alternates too quickly between being firm and excluding, then soft and encompassing, and I don't get a kick out of it, which is obvious to him, and I just don't feel like doing anything with my cold. Alan and Dan finally enter, and things begin looking up. I'm back downstairs to sit on the chair and watch the awful people pass by, and John had already passed around his pipe, and then one joint passes by me and I decide to have none of it, but then John C. sits next to me, and I decide to share his, and it goes all around the room, and there DO seem to be some groovier people around now, so I leave John and go back upstairs into the hot room. Continue to observe, again not sensibly crossing over into the stoned state, and there are awful scenes everywhere, and not too many attractive viewers from the sidelines. But then I see someone who's sitting on a cabinet, sort of looking at me, with dusty brown hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and when I observe somewhat later, a nicely shaped cock, semi-hard, suspended in his crotch. So I reach down to touch him and he reaches over to me, and we stand and rub together, and I get hard, and we play with each other with pleasure, necking nicely, oblivious to the crowds around us until hands break in, but then the novelty wears off, I go down, and, to fend off his disappointed hands, I go down on him. He's pleasantly uncut also, cockhead slickery smooth as only uncut cocks can be, and I get a bang out of running my tongue around his head, which he obviously enjoys, and I reach up and feel his quite pleasant body, but concentrate on his cock, swelling it up to maximum size, quite a mouthful, and then work slowly on it until he seems just about to come, then start necking again, and he takes to the teasing avidly, but people are coming too close, hands are horning in, and I figure the only thing I can do is finish him, so I go down and suck away with a vengeance, and he comes with nice pulsings, and we kiss only a tiny bit, and then he moves away through the crowd. I stand rather dazed, not knowing quite where to go, and I see the chesty guy who looks a bit like David G., and his cock is sticking out attractively, so I grab onto HIM and go down, and we get back against the wall, and I concentrate on his very thick meaty meat until he, too, comes, and he moves away with an apology that I don't quite understand, repeating it later with John: "I'm just not the person he thought I would be; I just came right away." I'm not sure what he thought I wanted, but it must have been endless necking. At that point I enjoyed his coming. Continued standing in the room, listening to the activities on the mattresses, watching the people round stroking themselves, disgusted with the disgusting pairing with the revolting, and then notice a VERY tall, large built fellow against the wall, and obviously he was sizing me up with sidelong glances, and I decided to let him do so, and finally he moved over next to me, and we moved onto the mattress that was propped slantwise against the wall, and he proceeded to blow my mind. We caressed a bit, and he went down on me, but then I found myself being bodily picked up under the arms and revolved in a circle in the air, and I kept my eyes closed and hung on for dear life, knowing finally that I was quite totally stoned, and that finally I'd met someone who would overwhelm ME with attentions, as I so enjoyed doing to others. That was only the beginning: he slammed me back against the sofa, did me some more, then pressed my body to the shape of his massive convex chest, pushing my head down over his shoulder, taking my feet off the floor in the meantime, and then he whipped me around, seeming to pull me inside out, so that I was curved concavely backward over the mattress, and he was supporting me somehow under my knees off the floor. My mind was spinning, I had a vague feeling that many people were probably watching this event-series and I wasn't hard at all, so the next time he let me come back to a sort of equilibrium, I was tired of his seamed old face above mine, so I murmured, "You've just blown my mind," and moved to sit downstairs for a bit. To the john and blew my nose, feeling awful with the cold, then encountered Alan talking to John, and delighted in tickling his beautiful body, then they announced that everyone was coming down from upstairs, and they would go up, and I wanted Alan to PROVE that he wanted to be with me, so I dropped the group and went upstairs to still find it fairly crowded, and this time I latched onto a shaven-chested fellow I first took for an aging football player, but then I saw the boy's face and the lank blond hair, and decided I had a real winner. We rubbed chests for a bit, and then I tried to kiss him, but he avoided my kisses completely. I went down on him and succeeded in doing nothing, so I left him standing in the middle of the floor to take to my retreat against the mattress. Then the bushy-haired Spanish type with the fluffy mustaches came closer, and I'd noticed his pleasant body when he was talking downstairs, so I reached for him, enjoyed kissing, then went down on his large-veined cock, and enjoyed playing with it for the first few minutes, but then I realized he was going to be something like John, and I pumped away with my lips and hands and fists, supporting his bent legs on my shoulder, but when other hands and mouths came around to finish the task, I gladly let him go, and saw him straining for another large number of minutes, surrounded by a pack of voyeurs, while I recovered some of the strength in my aching jaw. Then the pretty blond with the pronounced pectorals and ripply abdomen came toward me, and we kissed for a bit, he reminding me of someone else (as my first, gold-rimmed lad, reminded me of the sexy grocery packer at my local Finast, and for moments I could actually fool my vision into thinking it was actually him, which did my fantasies well), and we started playing with our own cocks, which was what attracted him to me: he was watching some central drama being played out to the sounds of whacks and slaps and groans, pulling resourcefully on his own pud, and I so liked the way he did it I wanted to watch him do it up close, with me doing the same for my own cock, since I was now feeling about like I wanted to come. So we waltzed around in the middle of the floor for a bit, but my legs weren't taking it very well, and I was quite soft, so I lay down on the floor with my head pointed toward the tape recorder in the closet, and he lay down next to me, and I loved feeling his hard body next to mine, and I clasped his rigid rib cage in order to squeeze his orgasm out of him, but though he seemed on the point of coming once or twice, he seemed intent on me, and at some point I decided to close my eyes to the room and merely bring myself off, hoping he'd take me so that no one would be able to see that I came soft. So I whacked away at myself, necking like mad, and then I pushed his head away from mine by pivoting my head upward on my neck, gasping for more breath, and he took up a waiting, watching position above my stomach as I whacked into the last spasms, and then I raised my haunches toward his face, but felt no welcoming mouth as I started spraying the area with my seed, and I dazedly lifted my head to see him watching, fascinated, very closely, and then I had come and he had gone and I, quite like a beaten cur, slunk back into the corner to nurse my soggy crotch. Into the bathroom to clean off, down to see John necking with some guy on the sofa, tried to make out, with no results, since Alan quickly joined us with his sarcasm, with Dan, and then people were in the process of leaving, I decided to go into the bedroom and get dressed, ass-sucker said I never looked thinner than I did coming down the stairs, and "He'd have to get to me," and I got my clothes together just as John came into the room, said "There you are," and we left together at 11:15. (RETURN TO JOURNALS 4/14/72).