For the second time that weekend, Pavel almost decked a punter. We’d twice seen the guy that Bryan has called Islander. Once at Temple and again at our bar, U Rudolfa. Neither Pavel nor I were happy to see him but he sat down at our table in the back anyway and immediately put his arms around Pavel from the back. He pinched one of Pavel’s nipples and reached around and grabbed his crotch.
Pavel looked at me, clenched his fists and said, “Fighting,” hoarsely, not quite under his breath. Islander, whom I’ll dub “Island Girl” now, seemed not to get the point. Surprising, because Pavel had warned him off for the same behavior at Temple just two nights before. Back in the summer, he’d been taken to task for the exact same thing, when he tried to feel up Marius, my Romanian lover at the time. Breederboy had done the honors then, bless him.
Not taking the hint, Pavel finally turned his head and grunted into his face, “Stop!” As men like this tend to do, he responded as if he had no idea he had been offending anyone. In my experience, these pawers, these poaching Mr Whipples, are headed for a bad end and some drama. Either the boy they’ve felt up all night, for whom they haven’t paid and probably have no intention of paying, will get fed up and get violent, or the man whose boy he’s trying to steal, will get fed up and get violent. It’s coming. Mark my words.
I’ve had it happen to me, but in general, I don’t fight for boys. (Marek was the exception.) If a man is that pathetic then I let him make a fool of himself. There are always other boys and unless the boy is also stupid, the man won’t get what he wants anyway. Men like this never pay well. Never. It goes with the category.
Pavel didn’t hit him, and I’m not sure I would have done anything about it if he had. Island Girl has a bad reputation with the locals, both boys and men. Just yesterday in the station, someone asked me, joking, if we could take up a collection to put a hit out on him. I said that the man’s own behavior will ensure he gets what’s coming to him.
In Rudolfa, however, Pavel wanted a little revenge. So, when we migrated to the front room after a table opened up, and Island Girl followed us, without having been given an invitation, Pavel immediately began hanging on me, kissing me, rubbing my chest under my shirt, draping his leg over one of mine. Not that there’s anything unusual in any of that. But he wanted IG to know exactly what was up.
He leaned over me and said, in the Girl’s face: “Me Ricky’s boy. Tonight me and Ricky big sex.
And. FOR. FREE!” he finished, practically spitting on the hapless punter.
Oh my, I wish y’all could have seen the Girl’s face. One hour with a station boy? 500 Kc. The jealous, helpless look on a desperate punter’s face? Priceless. There are some things you can buy, asshole, and there are some things you earn.
Island Girl recovered as best he could, by feeding me some shit about how men warned him off me the other night in Temple. The bar had been full of friends of mine and one of them had asked me, full of concern and disbelief, “He’s not one of your clients, is he?” When I said, god no, this is not the sort of guy anyone makes money off of, he bought me a beer. Girl, everyone’s got your number; this is my town; you can’t play that game with me.
None of that was enough for me to be overtly unkind to him. I often get asked why I’m so tolerant of some of the assholes that come to Prague. My answer is always that it’s just good biznis. I may not like some of the men I meet and I don’t have to take their calls or go out of my way to help them, but if I get angry, or get mean, those men can still talk to other men. I’d rather have a good reputation. Guess this post blows my cover.
So I listened to Island Girl blather on about the boys he took advantage of on this trip. He told me a story about a Ukrainian boy he picked up outside of a potraviny, how he’d fucked him and how the boy didn’t ask for money. Now, the young man was cute and in the photos, photos of Island Girl’s cock going in the boy’s hairy asshole bare, he didn’t have a hard-on. I should carry around a mirror for times like those. Hold it up to the man’s face when they say, The boy didn’t want money! Really!
I wouldn’t say anything, I’d just hold up the mirror, meaning, That boy, that cute boy, let you fuck him, and he didn’t want money? Or didn’t expect it? You think he did it because he was hot for you? Maybe he was too shy or too inexperienced. Maybe he just assumed – no, depended on the fact – that since you are, to him, a rich, English-speaking tourist, you’d be correct and do the right thing. Do the right thing for a boy who was more than likely homeless. How anyone can reach his age in life and lack so much perspective and self-awareness, I have no idea. It’s sad, and infuriating.
Seeing those photos and hearing that story steeled me for what I tried to do later on in the evening.
A new boy came into Rudolfa. I’ve been telling people that young guys do come into the club looking for biznis. Not regularly, or predictably as in an established rent-boy bar like Temple, but enough that, if you went a couple times a week, you’d notice. This boy looked the type. He immediately headed to the back when he came in, which is where the new boys go. Island Girl followed him like a fly sensing fresh shit.
They both came back ten minutes later and sat at our table, biznis apparently having been negotiated. I have to give it to the Girl, he knows what he wants and he wastes no time trying to get it. I was shown a little piece of paper where the two of them had negotiated price. It went from the boy’s starting price of 2000, down to the final, agreed-upon price of 750, for Island Girl to fuck him without a condom. Seeing that, I’d had it. I looked the boy over, whose name was Michal, observed that he was cute and twinky, even with the two big crusty gashes on his nose gained from a fight with station gyspies (which butched him up in my eyes), and decided that, even if I couldn’t and wouldn’t take him, I could at least give him a place to sleep and later find him clients that would pay him well. I also thought I could do a jack-off video with him and pay him more than the Girl planned for doing a lot more.
I sent Pavel to negotiate, to tell the boy what sort of man he was dealing with and what to expect when dealing with me. I told Pavel to tell him that if he was determined to live this life, he should at least be paid what he’s worth. Pavel did, and the two of them seemed to get along well, eventually starting a shirtless arm-wrestling contest that got the whole bar whooping and hollering. Michal was twinky-thin and smooth but had big, baseball-sized biceps that would look good flexing on one of my videos. He fought Pavel to a standstill, which sort of pissed Pavel off, and surprised me.
Island Girl kept trying to insert himself into their interactions, putting his arm around Michal and trying to kiss him. Michal looked extremely uncomfortable at this, a fact that the Girl predictably didn’t notice, but made me all the more determined to get the boy away from him.
Pavel came back to my side of the table and said that the boy had agreed. Michal went so far as to get up and move to sit beside us instead of beside the Girl, which I thought was premature but the Girl, again, seemed clueless. I paid my bill early, hoping that the three of us could sneak out while the Girl was paying his.
We tried that, and were halfway down the street when the punter caught up with us, breathless and exasperated at Pavel for deceiving him. He pulled on Pavel’s coat, and tried to take the boy’s hand.
“Pavel said he was negotiating for me,” Island Girl said.
“Pavel lied,” I said.
“Look, Girl,” I said, finally spelling it out, as he tried to get around Pavel to grab Michal, “You’re going to pay him nothing. I have clients who will pay him a lot more. Plus, you’re leaving tomorrow, yes? Where is he going to sleep when you’re gone?”
“Please!” said the pathetic husk of a man, the man who’d already had enough boys this trip but who desperately needed to stick it to just one more.
“I’ll send him to you tomorrow when we’re finished!”
He was really upset at this point.
“You can have him tomorrow, Rick!”
“It’s not about my having him, Girl…”
We tried to leave then, but it was obvious we couldn’t get away from him without Pavel getting aggressive. I shook my head no as Pavel clenched his fists again. The situation had degenerated from being manageable to being embarrassing and was just about to become regrettable. By this time we were on the edge of Wenceslas Square.
Island Girl pulled Michal aside and asked him if he was hungry. Then he dug into his pockets and fished out some cash. I was slowly walking backwards down the Square, realizing that I had lost. If I’d had enough money on me, I might have outbid him. Maybe. Never underestimate the desperation of homeless boys or the tiny souls of fucked-up punters. Money talks and Rick walks.
Pavel tried to persuade the boy again but I called him back. Professional pride, I guess. We watched Island Girl and Michal walk across the street towards McDonald’s. Pavel and I went home and Pavel threw up violently in the toilet before getting into bed and wrapping himself around me. The big sex didn’t happen until the next morning but it was nice.
The next day I got a phone call from Island Girl. I had forgotten that he had my number, and his number wasn’t in my phonebook, otherwise I wouldn’t have answered.
I’m glad I did though. The boy didn’t put out. He had understood the Girl’s bribe to be only for his company. I thought about that, remembered that IG had said something like, Come with me and I’ll give you 1000. Michal had taken it literally. A boy after my own heart. One last revenge.
young hard muscle 