As the years went by I found it hard to find other 'mos. Little wonder, I did everything I could to cover up the fact that I was one of them. Plus, I really did not want to be found out in the Army... one of my biggest fears. I look back now at all the missed opportunities and cringe.
During these years of gay exile, I did find one bright spot... Porn. I loved that I could find porn that had exactly the kind of guys I wanted to find in the world. The fact that they were fucking and sucking was just the icing on the cake.
The biggest stand out for me, and the man I consider my first partner in a way was Clint Lockner. I first found Clint on the cover of a Colt magazine and scooped it up right away. He was truly the height of masculinity. The photo spreads I like the best were the ones of Clint in his LAPD uniform. Tall jack boots, mirrored sunglasses, pistol... the works. Once I found videos of Clint, I knew that I could make it through the remainder of my years in the Army without going completely mad.
The years went by and I got out of the Army. I met my first flesh and blood partner and we eventually moved to San Diego. The transition to civilian life was a bit harder on me than I care to admit and I eventually found myself working part time at a local leather bar.
Nothing wrong with the bar lifestyle, but I knew that I needed to make more money than that. On the other hand, it did wonders for my sex life. I guess everything has its trade-offs.
The men that went to this bar were certainly the ones that I had decided were my type, and I enjoyed interacting with them and watching them in their subtle and not so subtle male bonding rituals.
One night, as I was starting my shift at 10pm, I saw a man come into the darkness of the bar. My eyes were just beginning to adjust to the low light of the blue bar candles, so I couldn't see him very well. Something told me that I was going to like what I saw very much. Usually, the candles that were put out throughout the bar were red. Of course the whole bar was painted black and there was a motorcycle hanging from the ceiling, bar poster with hunpy men on them... the usual decor for a leather bar. But once a month, we had what was called a blue moon party and all the candles that were put out on that night were blue... as in once in a blue moon. It was a subtle change, but for anyone who was used to the bar, it seemed to make a big impact on the level of action and mystery in the air.
I got my register set and checked my stocks and went right down to the end of the bar where my dark stranger was sitting. I asked him if his beer was ok and indicated that he was ready for another. I walked back to the cooler while I tried to get my brain to digest what I thought I was seeing. I looked back several times as I spun it around in my head. Could it be? No, I certainly would have known if he lived here in San Diego. Was it? I walked back with the beer and set it in front of him.
"You're staring," he said as he laid the $5 on the bar.
It startled me lightly.
"Oh, sorry," I said.
"Are you..."
Before I got out the question, a big grin came over his face and I knew right away that it was in fact my Porn Star Hero, Clint Lockner.
"People don't recognize me very often any more. Especially young men your age."
I was a bit star struck, but I knew what he meant. Porn at this time had taken on a very clean, hairless, twinky-boy persona that left me limp and uninspired. The age of HIV had pushed much of the grand old porn of the 70's out of the way.
"yeah, well... I haven't jumped on the new hairless, twinky-boy band wagon, and I still rock-out with my cock-out to my great 70's porn abott once a week," I said with a sly grin.
He laughed a deep baritone belly-laugh that I could feel down in my nuts. I grabbed a beer and popped the top and held it up to his. "Dude," I said, thanks for saving my sanity over the years. Let me know what else you need... your money is no good here."
He asked how on earth he could have saved my sanity after thanking me. I explained my early lonely days being a closeted soldier and how his hot video work helped me calm my raging hormones. In between popping open beers, we talked about what the good old days must have been like. he floored me when he told me that the LAPD uniform he wore in those early shoots was in no way fake. He was in fact a LAPD officer and some of the shoots happened while still on the force. But as his career progressed and he realized the backward mentality of the police force at the time he got out and pursed his porn and other careers full time. Of course all I wanted to hear about was the porn stuff. And he was happy to talk about it. From time to time other customers would get into the conversation. Some of them because they also recognized Clint. Others because they overheard our conversation and were intrigued. Others just because Clint was, even at his advancing age still a fucking hot piece of man meat and the smell of testosterone was still oozing out of his pores. His name was not Clint, but to this day, I can't remember what he told me his name really was. It wouldn't matter anyway, he would always be Clint to me.
To my surprise, Clint was still at the bar when I was starting to close up. He was in no way drunk... he held his beer like a true man. He asked me if it would be worth his while to stick around after closing.
I almost dropped my beer on the floor as I told him that I would have to do my close-up, but if he wanted to wait I'd be stoked to go any where he had a mind to after that.
"Great," he said, "You do what you have to and when you're done we can go to my place and "talk" some more." His giant mustached grin said it all and I closed that fucking dive up in record time.
When the light came on, I could tell that even though he still looked good, age was starting take a hold. I also got the feeling that HIV may be an issue in his life. How could it have not been? He was (at least in my mind) the king of the wild 70's in terms of sexuality and lustful indulgence. My actual partner at the time and I had parted ways as friends and I was still part of his life as I watched him struggle with the same thing. So, I was no stranger this, and knew what was and was not safe. Besides, there was no way in hell I was going to miss the opportunity to have Clint Lockner's fat 10 incher down my throat. As if he heard my brain talking to itself, he said, "you know I have HIV, right?"
"yes," I said. "I understand. ARe you ready to go?"
And off we went. I followed him back to his apartment... the whole way there with a raging bone.
he was unlocking his door as he turned around and saw me walking towards him unable and not trying to hide my hard-on. A smile broke across his face as opened the door and we stepped inside. Once inside he pushed me against the wall and locked his big mustached mouth on my as he probed my throat with his tongue. I felt dizzy with excitement and reached into his leather jacket to feel his chest. His nipples were hard and they stuck through his tee-shirt. I reached down to his crotch and felt his stiffening cock pushing against his thigh.
"I want you to get out of your clothes. I like my cocksuckers to be naked. then go over to Daddy's big chair and wait for me." He instructed.
I did as I was told and got down on my knees by his chair. He came out of the bedroom. he was still wearing everything that he had on before, but his leather jacket. In his hands he had some poppers and a chain collar. He set the poppers on the table next to the chair and put the collar around my neck and sat down in his chair.
"Go ahead boy, put that pretty face in Daddy's crotch." he said
I forced my face into his spread legs and took deep breaths. Smelling the manly smell of a crotch I had fantasized about for years.
His cock was stiff down his pant leg and I licked it and smelled it through his jeans. Viagra wasn't around at the time... and he wouldn't have needed it anyway. He undid his belt and I pulled at the buttons on his jeans with my teeth. even with his pants open I couldn't get to his cock because it was so far down his leg. I licked at the start of his cock at the root that was popping up like a hard root misdirected by a concrete sidewalk. he slipped his hand down his pants and unwedged his fat hard cock from his pant leg for me to get a good look. I gazed in amazement at the trunk of meat before me. then he reached in his pants again and freed his egg sized balls and let them spill out over his open fly. I immediately put his heavy nuts in my mouth and gazed high up in the air along the giant cock and Clint's shit-eating grin and handlebar mustache.
"Are you a hungry boy," he asked.
I gurgguled an affirmative response as Clint opened the bottle of poppers and put it under my nose. I inhaled deep and long. then He put the bottle under my other nostril and I inhaled again. he screwed the bottle shut, tied the blind fold around my head, pulled his nuts from my mouth and directed my head to his cock.
"Now boy, make Daddy's cock feel good with your cunt mouth," he said.
I started with his fat cock head as my mouth drooled and my head spun from the strong poppers. I heard Clint take a big hit of poppers, then settle back into his chair as I slobbered and sucked on my hero's fat cop cock. With the blind fold on all I could see in y head were the movies and photos that I had jacked off to for all those years. And now here I was satisfying my every dream with Clint's fat tool in my mouth... slobbering up and down the shaft as he flung filthy words of encouragement at me. When i really dove down for the first time I could tell that Clint was impressed. With his pulsating dick all the way down my throat for the first time, clint held the back of my head still. I could feel the meat throbbing in my throat and as clint said, "Good, good, good, boy," i could feel him pumping up his cock... expanding his already massive dick with each "good." he backed my head off slowly as told me what a good cock swallower I was. "I could have used you in some of those old movies, boy,: he said. I was so proud. I only wished that it could have happened. He glided my head down over his cock again and again, using my head like a melon to fuck. With each groan I was filled with joy and delight that I could make his cock feel so good.
We went on like this for about an hour. sometimes Clint would stand up and fuck my head good and hard, then he would sit back down and let me slobber and lick on his balls and slap my face with his veiny meat. When he was ready, he soaked my chest and the rest of my front down with a huge load of thick jizz. Then he pushed me back on the floor and jacked my swollen cock off until it shot a geyser of spunk.
As our breathing settled down, he took off my blind fold. He was sitting next to me on the floor with a look of satisfied amazement on his face.
"You are one talented cocksucker, boy," he said with a big grin. I smiled and back and told him how happy I was that he liked it.
I got together with Clint a couple more times after that. Once he cooked me dinner, another time we went out to drink a few beers. Once in a while I saw him at the bar. We had what I guess could be described as a true appreciation for each other, but It would be untrue to claim that I was one of his true friends... of which he had many towards the end of his life. Eventually I stopped seeing him around and then one day I read the obituary in the local gay paper. It was one more of the many heart-heavy announcements that were a part of the times, and unfortunately, continue to this day. But I will always treasure the time that I got to spend with Clint and hope and believe that he would say the same thing.
years later, I went online to search for a picture of my first partner's aids quilt. When I found it, I was looking at it and playing back in my head the times that we had together when I was stopped in my tracks. Right next to my partner's quilt was Clint Lockner's quilt. It was like a long lost friend suddenly appeared to say hi once more and remind me once again of My Porn Star Hero.
Note... this story is all true... if you were a friend of Clint's (one who would actually know his real name), I hope you don't mind my telling this story. After all, it's been about 15 years. I'm pretty sure that you know how sexual Clint was up until his death. And I want you to know how dearly I hold his memory.
