Sweet Fast Hooker Blues

Hi. I’m Theodore Greene. I am not really a hooker. But in addition to fucking (or getting fukt by) almost anything that has a pulse, I'm lean and hot and hairy and muscular. I grew up in America, where hot sexy young people are rewarded. Although it makes me weary, and all of my friends have warned me against looking inward, I've begun a journey of self-exploration. As a single gay guy in New York City, averaging 3 orgasms per day, I am probably no better than a street whore, except I don’t engage in sex for payment, and my shoes don't wear out as fast.

If I were to pile up the very taut, slick, muscular gay bodies of all the very hot, hung men who have visited my gay bed in the lusty year of 2004, you might also wonder if I engaged in sex for payment, just like that nosey statistics gathering doctor at the free HIV test clinic who asked me that question an hour ago.

Casual sex that involves kinky props, elaborate costumes, and a Bernadette Peters wig seems like the norm for lots of gay guys in Manhattan, and it sure is fun, but it confuses me sometimes. I don’t know if there are any rules for promiscuity, so perhaps I should take it upon myself to make some up. Since this is a way of life for so many people, someone ought to institute some guidelines.