Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go
Richard walked up Eighth Avenue into the heart of Chelsea to continue exploring his new neighborhood.
He had been in Chelsea numerous times throughout his gay career, but never paid attention to things like laundromats and supermarkets. Now that he lived in the heart of the city, he needed to assess his surroundings and figure out where all the necessities in life could be obtained.
For years Richard hung out in Chelsea-- running from one gay super club to another. One of his favorite watering holes was a place called Splash. Cute sexy white boy bartenders poured cocktail after cocktail for wealthy homosexuals and their house boys and sex slaves while Richard sat inconspicuously in a corner watching the drama unfold.
Once in a blue moon, he would strike up a conversation with someone in the bar, but typically he only went there to watch the strippers. Sex was too risky. Richard knew how promiscuous gay men can be and he simply didn’t want to get HIV.
He would rather wack- off.
Usually around 11 p.m. the lights would dim in the mega bar. Shower stalls located directly behind the bar and bar tenders would turn on with steaming water flowing like liquor as disco lights flashed like they did in the early Seventies. Go-go boys with hot buns and huge cocks tucked inside small g-strings would pretend to be lathering up behind opaque glass shower stall walls.
For a mere dollar, one could touch the go-go boys wherever they wanted.
The bar was so fabulously designed that the strippers didn’t feel like whores and patrons like Richard didn’t feel as if they were exploiting anyone.
Richard bumped into the rock star, George Michael while in Splash one evening. “My God, I can’t believe it’s you. You have no idea how much I love your music,” expressed Richard.
“Thanks! You know, there is no such thing as male prostitution,” explained George Michael to Richard. “Sure, I pay men for sex. But I don’t pay men to have sex with me. I give them money so they go away after I’m done having them,” explained the Eighties superstar.
Richard giggled as the lead singer of Wham! rubbed his between his legs. “Look, I don’t want your money nor do I want sex with you, but I’ll let you see it if you sign my pecker with the words Choose Life”, requested Richard.
The two went downstairs to the restroom and stood side-by-side along a row of urinals with small television screens at eye level which were broadcasting pornography.
“That looks like your video to Too Funky,” said Richard as George Michael put his mark on the boy who grew up listening to the album “Make It Big”.
He had been in Chelsea numerous times throughout his gay career, but never paid attention to things like laundromats and supermarkets. Now that he lived in the heart of the city, he needed to assess his surroundings and figure out where all the necessities in life could be obtained.
For years Richard hung out in Chelsea-- running from one gay super club to another. One of his favorite watering holes was a place called Splash. Cute sexy white boy bartenders poured cocktail after cocktail for wealthy homosexuals and their house boys and sex slaves while Richard sat inconspicuously in a corner watching the drama unfold.
Once in a blue moon, he would strike up a conversation with someone in the bar, but typically he only went there to watch the strippers. Sex was too risky. Richard knew how promiscuous gay men can be and he simply didn’t want to get HIV.
He would rather wack- off.
Usually around 11 p.m. the lights would dim in the mega bar. Shower stalls located directly behind the bar and bar tenders would turn on with steaming water flowing like liquor as disco lights flashed like they did in the early Seventies. Go-go boys with hot buns and huge cocks tucked inside small g-strings would pretend to be lathering up behind opaque glass shower stall walls.
For a mere dollar, one could touch the go-go boys wherever they wanted.
The bar was so fabulously designed that the strippers didn’t feel like whores and patrons like Richard didn’t feel as if they were exploiting anyone.
Richard bumped into the rock star, George Michael while in Splash one evening. “My God, I can’t believe it’s you. You have no idea how much I love your music,” expressed Richard.
“Thanks! You know, there is no such thing as male prostitution,” explained George Michael to Richard. “Sure, I pay men for sex. But I don’t pay men to have sex with me. I give them money so they go away after I’m done having them,” explained the Eighties superstar.
Richard giggled as the lead singer of Wham! rubbed his between his legs. “Look, I don’t want your money nor do I want sex with you, but I’ll let you see it if you sign my pecker with the words Choose Life”, requested Richard.
The two went downstairs to the restroom and stood side-by-side along a row of urinals with small television screens at eye level which were broadcasting pornography.
“That looks like your video to Too Funky,” said Richard as George Michael put his mark on the boy who grew up listening to the album “Make It Big”.
posted by Charles George Taylor at
11:04 AM
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