Originally published on September 18, 2003.
My friend Bob finally came back into town and he and I, along with other American friends of his, headed off to Pinocchio Prague was my favorite of the mainstream rent-boy clubs in Prague, which really isn't saying much since I could only rarely afford the prices..., one of the local rent boy bars; but not before I learned that Bob’s friends had both brought boys to the U.S.
One had a retail business in Florida and brought a Czech boy into the U.S. He told stories of the young guy always trying to drive the Rolls but being told he could only drive the Ford Aerostar mini van. Who can blame him?
Another of Bob’s friends, Steven, also brought a Russian boy into the U.S., who wandered away and off to California. Steven is also involved with two other Russian boys here in Prague and had just spent a weekend with the boys’ parents who got him drunk on homemade Czech liquor. It’s a whole other level of access to the world of rent boys if you’ve got the money.
Me, however, I tried to talk this cute, sexy, small-pointy-nippled muscleboy in Pinocchio’s down from 2000 crowns. He latched onto me almost immediately as we came in the door and although I wasn’t utterly entranced with him (been around the block a few too many times and had his lines down a bit too pat), I was willing to take him home. When I kept saying “too much, too much,” he suggested we go in the toilet for 1000 crowns. Since I’m really more interested in taking their pictures and video of them than anything else, I declined the offer of toilet sex. He said, “no problem,” we shook hands, and he took off. Very civilized, I think.
Steven had already taken off with a gregarious, beautiful olive-skinned suedehead that, truth be told, I would have actually paid 2000 Crowns for. I’m going to take some pictures of him at some point. He’s really stunning and a charmer, if a bit smarmy, and very quick too, because he was back from being with Steven in less than an hour.
After the Pointy Nipple Boy gave up, Bob introduced me to a goofy and very sociable Czech boy named David. After Bob left, David and I tried to find some common ground by naming the bands/types of music we like. He likes a lot of old school punk bands and is aware of the American turntablist and electronic movements. He also designs concert flyers and sometimes organizes parties/ concerts with his friends. He’s only been speaking English two months but is learning fast (the better to talk to the American johns, of course) and he’s also learning to make music with a computer. Whose computer, I don’t know.
He was very interested to find out I have one but didn’t pursue it when I didn’t elaborate. He wanted to hear what CDs I had so the whole time it felt more like a regular date than a trick for money. David continued this attitude when I asked him, “How much?” he shrugged and
said: “I don’t care… whatever you want… nor- mall.”
Of course, this endeared him to me after the matter-of-fact business manner of Pointy Nipple Boy. Nevertheless, I had been warned by Chris was undoubtably my best friend among the sexpats in Prague. He was a 60-something antiques dealer who moved to Prague mostly to escape the... and Ron that if you take a boy home and he doesn’t pin down his price, eventually he’ll probably ask you for $100 USD which is a hell of a lot for Czech rent boys.
Anyway, we took a cheap cab ride, which he handled, ended up at Arco, where I’m staying, about 1am. David immediately lit up a doobie. He’s been smokin up for two years, he says, or “using Mary Jane,” as he put it. He smoked up and then took a long-ass shower where he sang and whistled for a half-hour. He kept looking in on me, drippin’ wet and golden, asking “Ok?”
“Ok” I’d say, and he’d pop back in the shower. He helped me figure out how to light the pilot light on the room’s water heater, which was guest-controlled. The marijuana was making him stretch out every experience.
The sex was ok. He got hard as soon as I started rubbing his chest, with his hands behind his head and a big grin on his face. When I rolled over on top of him, he grabbed my dick and laughed. Not too big on kissing though, which is too bad since it’s my favorite thing; but he enjoyed the blow job, asking, before he came, whether or not I liked “sperma.” I said I did; but not to eat, but that it was ok to come in my mouth. I rubbed my tummy and said no and made a face. He thought that was funny and laughed and said: “No problem.”
He came just a little bit and then almost immediately grabbed me again to jack me off. I got the lube, and he used several hand positions to make me cum, kissing me on the cheek when I did. I have to say the rent boys here have been more attentive to my orgasms than most of the “boyfriends” I’ve had.
David spent the night and woke up kinda surly, definitely not a morning person. I’m staying at a pension that offers breakfast for your overnight “guest” as well as for yourself (gay folks really are different, ya know) so he ate with me, mostly silent, if companionable.
There were a few knowing smiles in the eating area, but no one really paid much attention. David used the crowns I paid him (2000, the same amount I’d refused Pointy Nipple Boy, dropped over David’s smooth shoulder that morning) to access the Internet, calling me over at one point to explain to him what a “returned mail” error message was.
Tomorrow: the fuckin’ hot, tattooed homeless Polish boy who got his shoes stolen by gypsies.
One of the strange things about reading these posts again is realizing how much I’ve forgotten and how much I didn’t know about the scene at the time. I do remember this petite kid, although I haven’t thought of him since. This must be why his features are blurry in my mind. I was still going with white Czechs at the time, too, something that changed when I met Roma boys. I remember all of them vividly.