These are stills from a 1984 porn flick starring Jon King and Daniel Holt. Sadly both now are dead. Jon has the bowl cut and the furrier chest, while Daniel has the curlier hair.
I saw this movie sometime in the later 1980s, but these scans are from a magazine, which is more memorable to me.
I spent all of 1984 in the forgettable burbs of a midwestern American city. It would be my last full year there. I turned seventeen in 1984 and was a bundle of confused teenage testosterone. At that point, I had some sexual experience but nothing particularly memorable. Like many lads of that age and era, I felt ashamed about my homosexual feelings, but not enough so that I didn't actively pursue any and all opportunities.
This magazine is memorable for me because I saw a copy in the company of an older male. He was known by others as "straight" but I knew differently, based on first-hand experience. He was certainly "straight-acting," which was surely part of the lure for me.
We had exchanged blowjobs on several occasions up to the day in question, but he wanted to go further -- he wanted me to fuck him in the ass. I knew men did such things, and the idea both fascinated and terrified me. He had a copy of this magazine with him and used it as a sort of "sales brochure" for what he wanted. At the time, I can remember my pulse racing harder than it ever had. Now, the memory makes me chuckle.
Needless to say, I said "no." I wasn't yet ready to go that far. Part of the problem might have been that I didn't have a mental image of him getting fucked but instead in the top role. (We used the terms "pitcher" and "catcher" then.) He was messing with my fantasy.
He was a gentleman about it and did not pursue the idea again. Now, more than twenty-five years later, I wonder if he had ever been fucked in the ass up to that point. Maybe he was asking me to take his cherry. He always was the more experienced, wiser man around me, so perhaps he didn't want to admit that he, too, was crossing new frontiers. I can't imagine he found too many males in the quiet Midwest who would indulge his needs.
I wish I could remember his name so I could Google him. I remember a good deal about him -- his face, his voice, his body, his cock -- as well as some of our conversations. I remember seeing him around town when he would just sort of nod at me but offer no further recognition. He would be in his fifties now. I wonder if he's still living in the closet in a small Midwest town or did he ultimately embrace who he was?
As is typical here, the images are much larger than on this front page, so click each one to see the full-size version. You can also download a zipped file with thirty scans from the porn mag
here.
