My Month as a Rentboy: Part III

My last proper stranger before I let my ad lapse at the end of its month run was also the greatest test to my doing it with anybody. Hearing Ron on the phone, I imagined him to be a fifty something big guy. He was coming in from Gainesville strictly for a play weekend and dug hairy guys (c’est moi) big time.

Then, the morning of the day we were to meet at his hotel just a few minutes from my house, he dropped the bombshell. He was THE Ron, the big, fat, black guy who had been stalking me on a couple of the hook-up sites for the past year. I was his ultimate fantasy stud and in his e-mails he went on in deliciously decadent detail what he wanted me to do to him. When he called that morning he apologized for the ruse and fully understood if I wanted to back out. Instead, in some weird fucken way, I became even more intrigued by the prospect and adamant in seeing this through.

Now, just so you know, while black guys are not my first preference, I’ve had my share and have had some hot times with some hot mother fuckers. But I work out three, four times a week, deny myself my favorite foods. So obesity – white , black or Martian – is where I draw the line.

But wasn’t it my job to make the guy who’s paying me feel like a million bucks? So loaded up with 100 mg. of Big V, I reported for my scheduled “appointment” at the Marriott just minutes from my house.

Yes, Ron was a wide screen movie, (they could have projected “This is Cinerama” on his butt) but he had an infectious smile, and for all his mass, kept my dick stirring as he deified me with his mouth and tongue and words. This is when, as he took my load and spurt his own, that I had one of those life defining eureka moments and realized that had I been younger, I might, just might have become a career whoreman.

So what did I learn from my month as a Rentboy? That physicality and physical attraction defy social class, professional standing, race, and most of all, personal pride; and that while money can’t buy you love, it sure as hell can buy you one of the best fucks of your life.

P.S.:  I’m thinking of renewing my ad – just one trick for the month pays for the ad and gives me plenty of play money, maybe to even buy a rentboy of my own!

Tomorrow: How my Rentboy Gig Led to My Fifteen Minutes of Fame in Porn

2 thoughts on “My Month as a Rentboy: Part III

  1. John

    Hi, Ray. Your add runs all the time, now, so I guess you like it even more than you let on in these posts. Anyway, very interesting and well worth the time to read your blog.

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