It was 1977, a while ago now. Seems fresh in my mind. I had caught a ride to LA with a thou buried in my boots. That was a bunch of money back then. I was a young stud, and construction work was good to me. I was pretty ripped, and didn't drink or smoke the earnings away. I could weld, and that seemed to get me jobs quickly.
I knew street Mexican, too. I learned it growing up in the Central Valley, where I would build and repair migrant shacks. I could also sneak in some beer now and then, and hooch was pretty popular, too. All that was behind me.
You see, back then after high school, I seemed to tilt towards the guys. Older guys. Papis. My buddies wondered about the fact I wasn't bragging about pussy all the time. I just kept it all to myself. Why? Sometimes I was fucking their dads, and uncles. Or they were fucking me. Or I'd get some from the cholos and the migrant guys. It was always fast. Ten minute fucks. Blow jobs behind a building. Way way out in a field behind a pickup so you could hear someone coming, and make like you were fixing something should someone wonder what was going on.
The older guys treated you more nicely. The younger guys could be hot, but they had only one thing on their mind. Sometimes, so did I: Get in, get off, get out.
Now in LA, there were less opportunities until I figured out the lay(s) of the land. Venice, Santa Monica. Muscle dudes. Ripped guys. They'd do their thing during the week, and on the weekend, they'd go looking. I found them. And they found me, doing push-ups in my swim trunks that today, looked like booty shorts. I could make my package look pretty good. I started getting laid a lot.
Muscle hunks would take me to their places, and some would drill me, and some wanted to be drilled by my big dick. This made me live for weekends. By mid-summer, I had a very nice place, lots of sex, and lots of work.
Suddenly, the work ended. My crew got black listed by the unions. Turns out my chief was doing some bad stuff, but we all got canned, and three guys ended up in jail with a high bond. The rest of us became toxic. Nobody would talk to us. Nobody. I drove all around, looking for jobs. Nada.
My high rent place with a view of the ocean was now killing me. Sure, I could get laid, but I'd be out on my ass shortly if I couldn't find some more jobs. My only reference was in jail. Not looking good.
On the second weekend without work, I was at a nearby friend's place. I'd been fucking his sweet hole for a while. Hank The Hunk. Totally ripped bod, contest winner, sun bleached hair, thick blow job lips, he just loved getting boned. He had tan lines that totally made my dick hard. The only place he wasn't blessed was in the cock department, but he made up for any short-coming with enthusiasm. A moaner. After we'd finished, I sat back on his buttery leather couch and found a local sex newspaper on his coffee table.
All kinds of sex was for sale in this newspaper. Parties, swingers, chicks, and three pages full of guys. Guys like me. Guys like Hank. Hot. I asked Hank if I could take it with me.
He looked at me like I was stoned. "You? You'll never need to buy sex!"
"No, man. I lost my day job. I need some dough." I replied, still looking at the ads.
He laughed. "Sell, man. Good idea! I'd buy you!" He laughed again.
"You're mocking me."
"No no no! LA is FULL of bottoms, man. Now tops-and good tops- man, those are tough to find!!"
"Really?"
"How many guys have you met on the west side of LA that were total tops?" I thought about it. Not so many. But I got fucked pretty regularly.
"I'm good for like, maybe two or three times a day. That's all the wads I can shoot until my balls are just empty. How can you make money like that??" I asked him, seriously.
"You do it by charging two or three hun a throw. Three Benjamins. Five days a week. Fifteen hun, a grand and a half, and you have weekends free to come over here and fuck my greedy asshole. Easy, eh?" He smiled his best smile at me. Gawd is he cute.
Against all better judgment, I took part of my last pay check and spent it on an ad. Me, in sunglasses, looking pretty ripped. I had some leather on in the pic, and a necktie. Black and white. $300, please. I got an answering service for the calls. The ad would hit on Thursday morning, I was told.
Thursday morning came. Nothing happened the entire day. I did pushups, lifted weights, kept myself naked and ready to go. By Friday morning, I thought I'd pissed the money down a drain.
Then came the first call. "Be in West LA at this hotel, 4pm. Room 1313. One hour. Be clean and ready."
WOW! I showered and took the short ride to the hotel, parking down the street. I was dressed nicely. I might be a guest. I was super-excited. Fancy place. I knock at the door.
It was a guy in his 40s, in a bathrobe. I breeze inside. Huge room. There are three Benjamins on the dresser. I grab them and stuff them into my wallet.
The guy opens his robe, then tosses it. Dad bod. Average dick. Wants to be fucked and fucked and fucked. Clean as a whistle. Lots of lube. I disrobe and he's awed. Wants to touch my muscles. Runs his hands all over me. Sucks my dick. He's not bad. I'm now fully erect. I'm at least three inches longer and an inch thicker than he is.
He throws the blankets off the bed, grabs the lube and hops up on the bed. I brought my own lube. Good stuff.
I drip it on his furry little ass hole. He's almost quivering. A moaner! Big time! I haven't even pushed in his butt and he's moaning. Then I do. He doesn't do this very often and he's tight. I push harder and suddenly I'm inside his hot asshole. My cock gets hotter and hotter as I sink in. He moans like a bitch.
Deeper and deeper until I'm all the way inside. I stop and let him get used to it. It's big. Maybe the biggest he's ever had. He starts to relax. I drip more lube onto my dick and sink it in. Moans. Nothing but moans.
I look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. I'm going to fuck him for fifteen minutes, I decide. I get gradually faster and faster. I do want to shoot, but I distract myself here and there. Then I pull out and flip him onto his back, and re-drill him. Much easier this time.
I ask if he wants my nut. He gets a little alarmed. Then he decides: in his hole. His cock is straight up, hard as stone. I grab the lube and lube it up. I slip my hand on his dick and stroke him, slowing down my thrusts. He just moans continuously.
Ok, time's up. I close my eyes and think about Hank's asshole. I'm just about there and I open my eyes and tell him that.
Suddenly his derrick starts shooting huge wads everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. One actually hits the ceiling. So I relax just a little bit and nut in his butt. Nice creamy load as his slows down to a dribble. His moans have stopped and he's panting really hard. I slowly extract my dick from his creamed butt.
I grab my pants and jump in his shower, and rinse the equipment for a minute. There's a big bag of pot on the counter. I grinned. No, I'm a good guy. He's still laying there, puddles of cum everywhere. I grab my stuff and pack up. I'm about out the door when he tells me to wait. He goes to his pants and pulls out his wallet and tips me an extra Ben.
"More later?" I ask him. He shakes his head no. He's leaving tomorrow.
"But I'll be back on the 25th," he says. "Look me up" I tell him.
For the next month, there's maybe eight of these a week, and one fuck party where I'm hired as a stud. I'm told to just fuck anyone that wants it. Most of the guys are white as sheets, I'm guessing from out of town. These guys seem to want to worship my bod, my cock, and must not get enough. All of them are tight as a drum head. Two get my answering service number, and I do them again the next day.
Other referrals come in. Business is steady, sometimes slim, but mostly steady.
