Hustler at the Capitol
By: Kenneth Kirk
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

kkirk@tickiestories.us

Chapter 2

For days the scene at the Capitol played out in my head at odd times or whenever I tried to relax or go to sleep.  I would be sitting at my desk entering expenses into a ledger and find myself in a trance as my mind took a fantastical journey with one of the anonymous boys from the Capitol.  I stayed so turned on, I was averaging 3 masturbation sessions a day, often including one from the end stall in the men’s room at work.  People probably thought I had some serious digestive system issue.

In high school and college, I had dated girls a bit but never with much success.  I was so terribly shy and awkward that girls would not encourage me to ask for a second date.  Actually, I was just as happy to be a perpetual wall-flower as to try to work myself up to go out with a girl.  Other than a few chaste good-night kisses, I had zero experience with intimacy.

Even as unsophisticated and naïve as I was, I knew that I was irrevocably drawn to men, sexually and romantically, too, having had major crushes on two roommates from the dorm and one of the Accounting Department’s graduate TA’s.  I was now free of the small-town Kansas mentality and imposed morals from everyone in town.  I was living in one of the biggest cities in the West, the largest city I’d ever visited except for a weekend in Dallas when I was 13 and my parents took my sister and me to Six Flags.

I knew it was way past the time for me to learn about intimacy and sex.  Could another trip to the Capitol serve that purpose for me?  I thought about that question for a few days.

I had no idea where or how to meet another guy who would be into guys either at work or somewhere else.  At the mall?  At the bank?  At the grocery?  At the gym?  Maybe, but how would I know which guy to approach or what to say if I did approach?  I could imagine getting badly mangled if I went to the wrong guy.  A restaurant?  A bar?  Again, for some reason, that felt pretty dangerous.  (I was so ignorant of gay life at that time I didn’t know clubs catering especially to gay guys even existed.)  Finally, I decided the boys at the Capitol provided the only option I could see.  I wondered what to say to one of them but decided I could let him lead me since he would presumably want to earn some money.

That night I ate a TV dinner that I heated in the toaster oven on my dresser.  (Microwave?  Not for several more years.)  I took a shower, shaved again, trimmed my mustache, selected my best BVDs, dressed as stylishly as I could and still be casual, and spritzed with my favorite cologne (Aramis).

I was quite nervous and jittery as I drove the few miles to the Capitol but I arrived without any problems.  As I had expected, a stream of cars slowly circled the building traveling in a counter-clockwise direction, presumably so the driver was on the side of the car nearest the building and the steps the hustlers seemed partial to.  With my heart in my throat and butterflies infesting my stomach, I angled into the line and started my rounds.  At about 8:15 p.m. a complete circle of the building took almost 15 minutes with frequent stops of several minutes while ahead of me a hustler and a john negotiated whatever it was that needed negotiating.

On my first pass around the building about half the hustlers waved or called out to me, but I didn’t respond because I wanted to see all the choices before making a selection.  I might be naïve but I had some high standards.

On my second pass through the circle, I happened to be stopped in the perfect spot to observe a new arrival as he prepared to get serious, I suppose.

What gay man wouldn’t notice those abs, that nice bicep, or the swell of his butt behind him.  His military pants and haircut might have had something to do with my attraction, too, but it is safe to say that I was intrigued.  Frankly, he looked like a guy I might enjoy hanging out with rather than a sex worker.

When he had his shirt off, he glanced up to catch me staring, almost transfixed at his masculine good-looks.  A big grin split his handsome face.  He nodded quickly to a guy standing nearby and strutted across the 20 feet separating us.

In all likelihood, I would have chickened out and driven away but I was trapped by the cars in front of me.  Thank God for that little fact!

He stopped a few inches from the car, putting his hands onto the door frame across the retracted window.  He stood upright for a few seconds, gifting me with a closeup view of his amazing 6-pack, elevating my heart-rate by a quarter, and creating a noticeable bulge in my jeans.

After 10 to 15 seconds, he leaned down so that his face appeared in my window, a mere 8 inches from my face.  Oh, my God, he was beautiful!  He appeared very relaxed as he smiled and stared at me in a warm and open way rather than a threatening way.  I had no idea what I should do, so I just stared back into his expressive dark blue eyes.

After a few seconds, he spoke in a quiet, sympathetic voice.  “Don’t be nervous.”  Gently he touched my shoulder, letting his fingers rest there for a long moment.  “I only want to be nice to you.”

“O-kay,” I mumbled.

Very lightly, his fingers began moving on my shoulder, caressing, soothing.  “Are you looking to meet a guy tonight?”

I nodded as I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Would I do?”

“Yeah.”  I couldn’t believe what was happening.  “Very well.”

“Would you like to take me somewhere so we can be alone?”

Shit!  Would I ever!  But where?  I had no idea.  He was looking at me curiously.  “I would, but…”

“You don’t have a place we can go?”

“No.  I’m sorry.”

“No problem.  I have a room nearby.  You could take me there.”

“Okay.”

“You do realize I’m working tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, I have to charge you for my time.  But, it will be worth it.  I promise.”

“Okay.”  I hoped I had enough money.  “Um.”

He smiled.  He knew I wanted to know how much.  “I get thirty an hour.”

I had that much, even though it was more than twice what I earned in an hour.  I smiled.  “Okay.”

“I’ll just come around to the other side and climb in, okay?”

“Sure.”  While he circled in front of the car, I leaned across the seat to pop the door open.  As he crossed in front of me, he slipped his shirt back onto his shoulders but didn’t button it.

When he was seated, we looked at each other and smiled.  He had great teeth.  And inside the car he smelled great, too.

The car ahead of me had moved forward while we were negotiating (I smiled inside at that word) so I moved up behind it.

“My name is Michael and I go by Mike.”  He held his hand out in an offer to shake.

I grasped his hand, his strong manly hand, and we shook.  “I’m Arthur and I go by Art.”

He laughed.  “Got it!  Art it is.  Pleased to meet you, Art.”

“Likewise, Mike.”

We moved up a little more and I could see the exit ahead but it took several more minutes for us to actually get to it.

“I’m thinking this is probably the first time you’ve ever met a hustler,” Mike said.

I grinned.  “It’s pretty obvious, huh?”

He chuckled.  “Let’s just say you seem a little bit uncomfortable.  Besides, as hot as you are, it’s hard to imagine you need to employ hustlers very much.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I smiled.  “It is my first time.  I’m new in town and have no idea how to meet a guy who’s interested in men.”

“You don’t like bars or bath houses?”

“Bath houses?  I didn’t know Denver had a public bath house.”

“Oh,” Mike said softly.  “Uhm.  There is a bath house specifically for men who’re looking for sex with a man.”

I was shocked to hear that.  “Really?  I had no idea.”

Before we made it to the exit from the Capitol, Mike blew my mind with a quick explanation of the gay world – bars, bath houses, and T rooms.  It was very exciting to me, but seemed totally focused on sex.  I had a Midwesterner’s viewpoint of settling down behind a white picket fence someday and, frankly, this aspect of gay life didn’t seem to point in that direction.

Apparently, Mike could see my disappointment.

“What’s wrong, Art?” he asked kindly.

“Uhm, that’s all cool, but isn’t it just all about sex?”

He looked a little confused.  “Yeah, I guess so.  But isn’t that why you’re here tonight?”

“Yes.  Of course.  It’s just that someday I hope I can have a life with some special guy.  You know?”

He grinned.  “Sure, I do.”  Gently, he placed his hand on my knee.  “As gorgeous and nice as you are, Art, I have no doubt some smart dude will latch onto you and never let go.”

I laughed with relief.  “I hope so!”

“I know it.”

We reached the exit and I pulled out of line to move toward the street.  “Which way?” I asked.

“Right,” he said.  “I’m in Capitol Hill.”

A few minutes later he directed me where to park.  When we got out, he led me to a 6-story hotel that looked like it was a cheap place from the ‘40s.  The Capitol Arms owners had obviously been saving money on maintenance, but Mike’s 5^th floor room had a single bed, a nightstand, a miniscule desk and chair, and a battered TV sitting ignominiously on the floor.  On one wall was an open closet and the door into a small private bath.  It had an overall ambience of age and neglect, but seemed basically clean.

When Mike shut the door behind me, I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.  He must have seen my fright in my face because he immediately put his hands on my arms, looked into my eyes, and said, “Don’t be afraid, Art.  We’ll do whatever you want to do and nothing more.  You can have whatever you want.”

His words calmed me quite a bit.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.  It was pretty thick but was mostly 1’s.  I counted out 3 $10 bills, placing them in Mike’s hand.  He nodded and laid them on top of the desk.

As he slipped off his shirt, he said, “What do you like to do?”

I hesitated.  That was a really good question.  I wanted experience but exactly what or how I wasn’t sure.  “I, uhm, I’m not sure,” I stuttered.  “I’ve never, uh, … well.”  I stopped in confusion and embarrassment.

“Are you saying you’ve never had sex with a man before?”

“Yes,” I said quietly.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/21/2022