Date: Fri, 4 Jan 2013 07:05:34 -0800 (PST) From: Anthony Palazzo <apalazzo198@yahoo.com> Subject: vintage thrills; 37. Backstage at the Gaiety Backstage at the Gaiety I had been wanting to have a threesome for a long, long time. Just curiosity. Something exciting that I had not experienced but had heard about from others and had read about and had wondered and fantasized about. And something I was determined to experience. But with the threat of STDs so prevalent I had not dared to try. I decided that I would, one of these days, find a safe, controlled situation in which I could be sexual with two other guys at the same time. I had thought about paying for it so that I would have better control over the situation, with a better chance of keeping it safe and not letting it get out of hand. So today I find myself at the Gaiety theater, a Times Square male strip show, where young guys dance, and more, for a price. I brought extra money with me today with the vague plan of getting two guys to put on a private show for me. I had thought of doing that before, and even questioned some guys in the past, but I never seemed to have adequate money or adequate nerve on the same day. Today could be the day. I had talked myself into believing that watching two guys perform was a reasonably safe way to sate my thirst for a threesome. I walk slowly through a room off to the side of the movie theater, where the dancers hang out and greet customers. There are some carpeted benches to lounge, a pinball machine, a public telephone. A tall, very tan, handsome young man approaches with a smile. We exchange pleasantries. The guys' usual opening remark to the customers concern whether they have seen and enjoyed the previous set. There is a show every few hours. Most of the contact between the dancers and the customers occurs just following the performances. The customers have had an opportunity to see the dancers strut their stuff and they have a good idea of which young man they want to get to know better. But some of the dancers also hang out in the lounge area between sets and so there is some ongoing communication and business transacted throughout the day. Now it is about 20 minutes prior to a scheduled live performance. Male fuckfilms are being shown in the next room at the present time. I return the young man's smile. His name, he says, is Chad. He is tall with slick dark hair, a big dazzling smile. He is wearing baggy overalls with bright wide suspenders, red and yellow. No shirt. His chest is very well developed. Round tan pecs with prominent nipples. Hard rippling abdominals. He stretches out his suspenders often as he speaks. There are a few inches of slack between his stomach and the jeans. And they are open a few buttons. Occasionally, he dips his hand down into the front of the jeans and into his crotch as he speaks. Nothing subtle here. But the gesture appears to be done absent-mindedly, almost innocently, and without guile or hard-sell. After some introductory chatter, I tell Chad that I would like to see him perform sexually with another dancer. Without hesitation, Chad agrees that this could be arranged. He begins to question me about the types I like, listing the guys scheduled to dance today, and wondering out loud, which of them would go for the offer. "How about a Chinese? You like Chinese? We have a very pretty Chinese boy working here now. He would do it." I am non-committal in response, with an unsure so-so look on my face. My hesitancy is partially because this negotiation is moving along a little too quickly, too smoothly for comfort. And also because I'm not sure who I would like to see with Chad. I'd really like to see the other performer in the flesh, rather than approve someone based on ethnic background or Chad's appraisal. "He's not really Chinese. He's, what do you call it...?", screwing up his face in concentration as he tries to more accurately pinpoint the native country of his fellow dancer. "From Thailand!," he remembers happily. He smiles and waits for my decision. I do not commit myself, saying I'll think about it. Not giving up, Chad mentions one or two other boys who are possibilities, describing each one briefly. "There's Robert, but he's straight, it wouldn't be any good. There's another Robert too, I think he might go for it. Nice looking, blond. And Julio, he's hot. I think he would do it. He's over there by the pinball machine." I observe a young man in tight jeans, with a tantalizing part of one tan asscheek exposed, intently playing the pinball machine. As he turned around, I could see a hardened, wily look about him that did not attract. "I'll see. Maybe later. After the show, maybe," I postpone. "Okay, Joe," (the name I'm using), "catch ya later then." Big smile. I'm impressed with this guy's demeanor,-- the way he comes on, the way he sells it, the way he backs off with a smile. Terrific. I go into the scummy movie theater next door where the live show will start in a few minutes. I watch the fuckfilm with only moderate interest. It's the usual ridiculous storyline with almost uninterrupted sucking and fucking. The guys are not that attractive-- one has bleached blond hair and plucked eyebrows. His partner, the fuckee, has dirty feet, pimples on his ass and flecks of something dark around and in his asshole. (Omigod. Is it shit? sores? scabs from healing injuries? dried blood? What a turnoff!) Mercifully soon the film comes to an abrupt halt, in mid-action, and the theater lights are turned up. I always hate this. I harbor the vague fear that someone I know will be in the next row. It never happens, and what if it did? What would my acquaintance be there for anyway, if not for the same thing as me. A cheap, relatively safe thrill. For the next hour I watch a parade of young men of varying degrees of attractiveness dance, strip and flirt. Each boy has two numbers; during the first he dances and slowly takes off his clothes, so he is generally nude or near-nude by the conclusion of the dance. He leaves the stage and returns for his second number totally naked and sporting an erection. Sometimes the audience applauds at this grand re-entrance. It depends on how friendly the audience is at that particular performance, how likeable and attractive the boy is and how impressive the erection is. Many of the boys look bored. They go through their paces, sometimes smiling, sometimes looking tough and mean (which turns on some people), and often with little expression at all. Once in a while someone new to the game, or someone who really enjoys his work turns up. When that happens, the animation, the fun, the pleasure and the audience's interest are all heightened. Today most of the six or seven dancers have been around the block a few times and there is no one with an unusual degree of talent, charm, vitality, motivation or stage presence. But still they are, in general, better than the average performer in this business. Some of the other places around town take guys who have long since lost their attractiveness, if they ever had any, and who look angry, surly or even spaced-out on drugs. The quality of performer at the Gaiety is pretty good, generally speaking. Today there are a few young men who interest me. One fair guy has a lot of personality. I like the way he looks into the eyes of the men in the front, bordering the stage, flirting and teasing. He also has an appealing way of moving his ass. He turns around a lot and points his full round buns at the audience, bends over so that the asscrack begins to part, and then sways the whole ass from side to side. I love this action and I stroke myself through my cords. I would take my prick out and jerk off but the lights are up too high. The dancer is looking over his shoulder at the audience as he teases them with his butt. Actually, it is a bit too generous in size to be considered a perfect ass, but I like it anyway. I like the way it looks, especially the full roundness of it, and the heavy coating of blond hair covering it. I also like the way this guy is working it, as though he is remembering some old pleasures. Yeah, he seems to be enjoying this as much as the audience. A good exhibitionist is a true find. My friend from the lounge, Chad, performs next. He also is a turn-on. When he takes off those overalls the rest of his body is just as perfect as the part I've already seen. His body is smooth with hardly any hair, he has a uniform tan either from some recent sunbathing or from a tanning parlor. His dick is average to large, well proportioned to his big muscular body. His buns are small, perfectly shaped spheres, deep bronze in color. I can't remember when I've seen such a perfect ass; probably never in person and only rarely in pictures. I enjoy Chad's performance a lot. His dance is not as overtly sexual as the blonde guy who preceded him but his body and modest manner are appealing in and of themselves. He flirts with a man seated at the apron of the stage, squatting and bending to provide a priority view. After the show, I drift back to the lounge. The blonde dancer that I liked so much approaches. I must have been looking a certain way; sending vibes to him that let him know that I'm interested. It develops that he is one of the Roberts that Chad had mentioned earlier. He is from Canada, and is therefore referred to as the Canadian Robert to distinguish him from the other dancer. A friendly animated conversation ensues that quickly comes around to business. "Well, yeah, you're great. I really liked your show, but what I really would like is to watch two boys get it on together. What do you think?" "Uh, yeah, that would be alright I guess." He is sizing me up for price. We had been small talking earlier about travel, and both of us had been to Hawaii recently, the young man taken there as a guest of "a friend." The dancer knows that Hawaii costs big bucks and figures that I am financially comfortable. "It will be a little expensive, but I'm sure we can work something out." At this point Chad drifts by, smiles and greets me. Chad apologizes to Robert for interrupting. "Am I interfering here? Sorry, man, I didn't mean to get in the way." "No, no, it's okay," I say quickly, warming up to the idea of a scene with the two of them. "I was talking with Chad earlier," I explain to Robert. Robert catches the drift quickly and we all three begin to chat. It develops that Chad is quite upset about an imagined slight from a customer. He comments more than once about the patron in the first row who looked away and ignored him while Chad flirted with him during his performance. Robert ignores this, but I try to convince Chad that the guy was probably nervous or shy and intended no insult. It is odd that such a handsome guy would have such poor self esteem that he would be so concerned over such a minor slight. He had better get used to nervous and rude customers if he's going to stay in this business. After a bit more small talk, we three agree to find a private place to be alone together. I had checked my watch and noticed that I have very limited time before I need to catch a commuter train home. Well, a quickie would be safer and cheaper anyway, I think. Robert suggests that we go to his apartment a few blocks away and really relax. "No, I have to be going home soon." I point to my wedding ring and give a little stage laugh. The boys look and nod their understanding. I want to get the money issue settled. I offer $100. Robert hesitates, looking disappointed. "Just about 15 minutes, is all I want," I say. "Why am I paying $100 for 15 minutes? Because you guys are great, that's why! And because the next time we can take our time and really have a good time. Fifty bucks each for 15 minutes is the best I can do this time. Okay?" We head for an area behind the lounge, Chad leading the way. He looks behind a worn velvet curtain and shakes his head no. "No good, somebody there," he says to Robert. He turns, goes up a few steps, through a large dressing area, and then to a space behind the stage curtain. Robert and I follow. "This is good," Chad declares with assurance. I put my briefcase and coat off to the side and we stand in a circle. I'm wearing a suit, Chad has on his baggy jeans and Robert is just in shorts. Chad and Robert kiss and then they pause to undress. I take out my dick and start to stroke it as I watch them. I tell them how turned on I am by both of them and I comment on Robert's ass movements during the show as particularly memorable. Chad is interested and asks Robert what he does with his ass on stage. Robert laughs and demonstrates, grinding sensuously for this special audience. I complement Robert's ass again, and asks Chad if it isn't a fine sight. Chad smiles agreement. Robert says that actually Chad has a great ass too. Chad is noticeably bolstered by this pronouncement, and I quickly agree. It is in fact undeniably true. Chad has an all-time magnificent ass; so beautiful that it is hard to imagine that he does not realize it, and has to be assured of it's splendor. I wonder at how someone who is as physically perfect as Chad, could need this degree of praise and reassurance. Robert turns and begins kissing Chad again, rubbing his body against the other. Chad asks Robert to suck him, looking sheepish about his dick which is still soft. Robert immediately squats and takes Chad's cock in his mouth. I drink in the scene, hardly believing my good fortune at being treated to such a wonderful sight. I open my pants, roll up my shirt sleeves a bit and move behind Robert. I rub my hard cock against Robert's shoulder as Robert continues to suck Chad. I am having a wonderful time, but Chad continues to look uncomfortable. He explains after a few minutes that he is bisexual and it isn't always easy for him to get turned on by men. This is said for my benefit; Robert no doubt knows about his fellow dancer. After a time, Robert stands up and steals a sidewards glance at my dick. Since I have made it clear that I just want to watch, Robert does not touch, but he seems to enjoy looking at me getting excited and pleasuring myself. Chad has moved slightly to the left where he is paging through a small straight sex magazine. He masturbates as he looks at the naked girls. There is a shelf here that has several magazines which the dancers apparently use to get hard before their stage performances. "Well, I'M up!" announces Robert proudly, (and somewhat insensitively considering Chad's problem). He twangs his hard dick like a fiddle string. It is a 6 to 7 inch dick, with pale skin, reddish at the head and pink at the area just beneath the head. Pale bluish veins can be seen through the thin-looking skin. I cop a feel, which Robert smilingly permits. Robert seems to be liking this as much as me. Chad has grown harder, and Robert kneels down again and starts to blow him once more. I feel Chad's shoulder, chest, --massaging the pecs and nipples-- and then cup one perfect asscheek. Heaven. I smile at Chad, but Chad is looking a little uncomfortable. So I move away. I move around to the back of Robert and kneel on one knee behind the squatting Robert. I feel Robert's big hairy ass and then gingerly reach between his legs and squeeze his balls slightly. Hearing no grunt of protest, I reach for the cock, feel it, and stroke it a couple of times. It is a very big turn-on for me and a moment that I will recall many times in the future. Chad has indicated to Robert that he should stand, and now showing a full hard-on, he tells Robert to turn around. Robert looks at him quizzically, not about to get fucked for this $100 show. Chad mumbles impatiently. "Come on, turn around, it's okay," he coaxes. And then it becomes clear that he just wants to rub his hard dick up and down Robert's asscrack. This is for my benefit; he figures that I will enjoy this, considering the amount of ass-talk I had been making earlier. He thinks right. I love the show, and cheer them on. Robert is smiling and saying "Oh, yeah," playing along with the scene now that he knows it's just a harmless pretend-fuck. As Chad and Robert writhe and buck (a little overdramatically) a dancer and a customer interrupt the scene by peering in. It shakes me up; I try to haul up my pants which have fallen down to my ankles, but Robert and Chad just casually wave them off. Such interruptions must occur often here and the dancers apparently get used to them as they jockey for available space. Too soon I feel the semen rising from my balls. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," I inform. "Do it, do it. Go for it. Ooo-uh. Pound that cock!" Accompanied by these encouraging imperatives, I shoot three long wispy strands of semen high into the air. Well, high for a 50 year old, anyway. A very turned-on 50 year old. And much too soon it's over. I lift my pants, tuck in my shirt, and begin to collect myself mentally. I pull a handkerchief out of my back pocket, and clean myself perfunctorily. I pay the dancers, throwing in an extra $10 tip for each. As we walk from backstage, Robert encourages me to stay in touch and offers a phone number. On the trip back into the theater, we pass two couples engaged in sex. In a small alcove, I recognize the Thai boy, who is being worshipped by a man who is kneeling and kissing his lithe, naked stomach.