Date: Mon, 7 Aug 2000 18:48:39 -0700 (PDT)
From: revans888@excite.com
Subject: 42nd Street Boy

The following story is true in every detail.  It is a story of an
intergenerational gay friendship.  Any persons who have had similar
experiences who wish to contact me for any reason in regard to this
experience, should write me at revans888@excite.com.

I am 45 years old, male, married with two sons, 12 and 14, and one daughter
ll.  This experience occurred about 20 years ago when I was about 25 and
before I was married.  I knew at that time that I was a bi-sexual, but I
rarely acted out on my yearnings in that regard.  I had two years before
becoming a junior executive in a large national company, which frequently
took me to other cities.  I visited New York City about twice a year.  On
each visit, I was sure to go down to 42nd street and look through the porno
video and magazine stores and go into the private video booths, as well as
pay to watch live sex shows, both heterosexual and homosexual.  What I found
would feed my masturbation fantasies, which I did, not only in my hotel
room, but in the booths and XXX theaters, as well.

On one afternoon when I was exiting one of the stores, I was approched by a
young boy, who I was certain was no older than 10, or perhaps 11 years old.
He looked at me and said something like, "I have the biggest cock and
tightest ass hole in New York.  You want your cock sucked?"  I had seen him
approach others on the sidewalk, but everyone just passed him by.  But I
stopped and asked him how old he was, and he said 18.  I knew he wasn't
close to being 18, and I walked down a few feet and into the next store.  A
little later, when I came out, he was standing there asking me if I wanted
to fuck him.  This time, I looked at him very carefully and, while I knew he
couln't be older than I originally thought, I noticed his hands and neck
were very dirty and his eyes looked so sad and tired.  His shirt was open in
the front, his pants were missing the top button, and he wore only a pair of
very dirty thongs on his feet.

I asked him what his name was, and he said Derek.  I asked him if he lived
nearby, and he said he didn't live anywhere except with his "clients" every
day.  Something made me want to know more about this boy and, although I
told myself I should know better, I asked him to take a taxi with me to my
hotel, which was on 57th Street.  He said no because he didn't want to get
trapped if I was going to take him to the police or someplace that would be
bad.  So we walked.  I was really rather embarrassed in the elevator to my
room with the other occupants looking strangely at me bringing this ragged
kid from the street up to my room.

We sat down in my room for awhile talking.  He kept wanting to take his
clothes off and continued to ask me if I wanted to fuck him or if I wanted
to suck him off or if I wanted him to suck me off.  I finally told him that
nothing was going to happen until he took a bath or a shower.  He didn't
want to do it, but I told him it was either that or he could get out.  He
finally agree.  He had never operated a shower before, so I got the water
set and the soap into the soap dish.  I told him I was going to keep the
shower door open just a little so I could see and make sure he was washing
himself correctly and thoroughly.  I had never once in my life felt any
interest in young boys or teenagers, but seeing this pathetic youngster
trying to wash his young naked body, probably for the first time in Heaven
knows when, aroused a bit of longing in me.  I had an erection watching him,
but his uncircumcised penis remained flacid. I suddenly felt such sympathy
and pity for this child, who now seemed so utterly vulnerable.  What a sad
and hopeless life.  I knew he could have objected to the shower and run out
of the room back to the street.  But he didn't.

When he came out of the shower, he dried himself with a towel and actually
smiled at himself in the large mirror over the lavatory.  It turned out that
his hair wasn't black, as I thought it was; it was actually a light brown.
He hadn't worn any underwear, so I gave him a pair of my jockey shorts,
which were naturally a little large on him.  Then he asked again what I
wanted to do with him.  Of course, I couldn't do anything to this child, and
I told him I couldn't do anything.  Then he started to cry and my heart
absolutely broke at that moment.  I went over and sat on the bed next to him
and hugged him very tightly.  I told him I loved him and cared about him.
His body felt so thin and soft and kind of frail in my arms.  I told him to
put on the shorts and the rest of his clothes because it was time for him to
go.  I told him that I was sorry that the shower was all I could give him.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was no longer that nasty kid on
42nd Street.  He was a real human being, but one who had nothing.  I think
for a moment he felt he had found someone who would really love him and care
for him and he didn't want to leave.  But he did leave after I told him I
would see him again on the street and we would talk.  I really didn't know
what else to do with him.  I couldn't keep him, I certainly wasn't going to
take advantage of his young body for my sexual pleasure, and I just couldn't
stand the thought of turning him over to some agency or other.

The next morning, I left the hotel to go to a meeting down in Lower
Manhattan, and he was standing outside my hotel on the sidewalk.  For some
reason, I was so happy to see him.  I had felt that I had really abandoned
him the day before.  I took one look at him and decided right there that I
would buy him some clean clothes, and he was willing.  We took the bus to a
thrift store I knew of and I had him looking like a very handsome young man
very quickly.  And for once I saw a big smile on his face.  And when we
crossed the street, he took my hand.  Right there, out in public, tears
started to well up in my eyes.  I almost felt as though he was one of my own
sons.  Then he asked if we could go back to my hotel room, which we did.
When we got there, he said he wanted to thank me and pay me for what I did
for him.  He opened up the sack in which he was carrying his old dirty
clothes and pulled out three dollars and some change from one of the
pockets.  He put it on top of the chest and said I should take it.  I went
over and grabbed him and we hugged and hugged and we both cried and cried.
I wanted to be the strong adult, but I totally lost it.  We kissed each
other and he told me that he was glad I told him the day before that I loved
him because he loved me too.

Then he said he had to leave and had to see some people.  I told him I would
like him to stick around until later so I could buy him a good meal.  And he
said he would be back, but didn't know when.  We hugged again and kissed
each other like we were father and son.

I stayed around the hotel all evening, but he didn't come back.  The next
day I left word at the desk to let me know if he came in.  Then I went back
to 42nd Street to see if perhaps he had gone back there.  I looked all day
for him.  I was in New York for another six days, and I did little else but
search for Derek everywhere I could  think of.  I went back and forth
between the hotel and 42nd Street far into the night each day.  I could
hardly sleep at night, and found myself crying with the thought that
something terrible might have befallen that dear young boy.  I did love him,
and I knew he loved me.  But he had disappeared completely.  I finally had
to leave and fly home.

I have never forgotten Derek.  I never stop thinking about what I could have
done or should have done to help him and to save him from all that was
happening to him.  It's been twenty years since I last saw him and in my
worst nightmares, I see him as a thiry year old, on the street, homeless,
perhaps addicted to alcohol or drugs, and prostituting himself to other men
for money.  And I wonder if he remembers me.  I don't hold out any hope that
I will ever find out what happened to Derek, but my tears and thoughts will
always be with him.  If anyone wishes to talk with me about this, my e-mail
is revans888@excite.com