Creating a Scene: Public Sex
There are two kinds of Public Sex: the sanctioned and the unsanctioned. For both, you have to be a super exhibitionist and not prone to distractions, i.e., keeping your dick up and focused even when some pudgy four foot ten guy behind you is stroking your left cheek; and for the second, you also have to be a risk taker, wanting the forbidden fruit in strange places where you aren’t supposed to be on the hunt.
Sanctioned havens for public sex include the orgy rooms, steam rooms and glory holes of the sex clubs and bathhouses. There “Creating A Scene” can be fun, where you’re having your fifteen (or more likely seven and a half) minutes of fame up there on some platform with three or four guys working you over (one swallowing your dick, another with his tongue up your butt, you get the picture, right?) and double that number of poor fags playing audience, pulling on their puds as they watch their own live porn movie. Nothing beats it for an ego lift even if, once it’s over, the same guy who was rimming you steps on your foot in the john.
Up to the early 2000’s, backrooms used to be a popular part of the Lauderdale gay experience and a draw for out-of-town tourists. A few, in land locked bars, were no bigger than a closet; others, at bars that benefited from fenced in patios, were under carnival-like tents. Again, timing is everything in life, and these haunts where guys cavorted with one another in the dark, a bottle of cold beer in one hand and a hot cock in the other, were usually late night occurrences when the number of men had reached critical mass. Then some stupid, ultra-horny fucks decided to go beyond the “normal” boundaries and do it ON the bar, and the cops could look away only for so long. Or more likely a competitive bar owner squealed on them. But like an almost extinct species, backroom action is enjoying a renaissance, even if the employees, what we regulars like to call the “penis police,” bluntly order guys they catch in action to “keep it in your pants.”
I often chat with the security guard at Ramrod, Lauderdale’s leather bar, still the most notorious local dive for unsanctioned in-your-face public sex, who’s usually assigned the penis police detail on weekends. When he finds an offender on his knees in some dark corner- and yes, they’re still doin’ it – he conveniently grabs them by the back of their harness and pulls them right off their prize.
There’s a very pragmatic reason bars like the Ramrod are on the constant vigilance: if there’s an undercover health Department spotter in the place and he witnesses such “unsanitary conditions,” it could cost the bar its liquor license which is practically a license to print money.
Now, the unsanctioned spots for Public Sex like public bathrooms, truck stops, secluded beaches, or hiking trails can give you a rush. But they can also be problematic legally (like being arrested for lewd behavior, sucker) socially (with straight-and-narrow passers-by, or some redneck Trump lovin’ trucker who threatens to cut your prick off) and logistically (sticking your dick or ass through that tiny space at the bottom of a bathroom stall has got to be uncomfortable).
And with both sanctioned and unsanctioned venues, there’s always the specter of unsafe sex where lust overcomes logic (like the guys bent over on some orgy room couch getting fucked by an endless array of unknown penises).
Riis Park, a very popular beach in NYC, used to have its nude section where, behind hastily erected screens, guys would screw and suck as a friend played watch. That all ended when the feds moved in and Riis was absorbed into the Gateway National Park System. But folks tell me there’s still gay and straight action going on at Robert Moses, further up the coast on, yes, suburban Long Island.
Here in crazy Lauderdale, a former homophobic Bible Belt mayor turned thumbs down on public johns by the beach because he was concerned that us fags would use them for fornication. Perish the thought!
But everything has its place, I guess, and I’m, often than not, just an old fashioned boy who still prefers a bed or sofa and a door. Though I got to tell you, dining room chairs with cut-outs make terrif glory holes!
Hold me back buddy.