A True Story time

By Tony.

I had been living with my foster parents up until my 18th birthday when they discovered I was gay, and that was that.

They both went ballistic.

So much for good Christians who go to church every Sunday.

How pious.

How two faced.

Do they think their God doesn't see how they behave when not putting on a front for fellow church goers ?

Serves them right for rifling through my person things.

And besides, their income was now to be less as no more money from the government for taking me in.

I was 12 when I was adopted, having spent most my life in various children's homes.

But who the hell are they to tell me what to do and how to live my life.

I was out.

Thrown out.

The day I turned 18.

Unceremonially.

Homeless.

I had a little money saved up, enough to get me on a train to London with just a small rucksack of my clothes and things and that was it. Alone and in the big city.

I was a tough cookie. You have to be. Living in a dorm with other older boys who bully and abuse the younger boys. Little did they know that the sex that was forced upon us by some of the adult carers and the older boys from such an early age , when the lights went out at night, I enjoyed.

But I never let on that I did and always fought against, as then it could be really hard going.

I knew I was gay but never let on. When I was adopted, all that stopped.

I arrived at Kings Cross in London and had read somewhere that Earls Court was the place to go, so headed on foot and within minutes I noticed all these guys looking at me, cruising me, and it felt good and my dick was hard. I discovered the Colerne Pub and a whole gay scene that was thrilling to me.

Eventually this older man came up and asked if I was homeless as I looked as if I was wanting ... and when I said I had just been kicked out by my parents and that I indeed, was looking for someplace to stay, he invited me back to his place for a meal and a place to crash.

It was, after all, October and it was getting cold and as I had no place for the night, why the fuck not ?

He was nice and after a meal and a shower - this was the first time I had sex with a man in a bed, not in the park toilet like before.

He was astounded when I stripped as I knew I had a big dick, and he just worshipped for hours, and I think I came at least 4 times that night with him. It simply never went down...

Within a few days he arranged for me to work in a local car wash - washing cars - naturally - as he owned it and he had a room going above the garage that was partially furnished, and would I like it.

Too damned right I did. We both knew I wasn't going to stay with him at his flat forever.

I remember that first evening, moving in, and while there was carpet, a bed, drapes and an odd chair, there was precious little and I stripped off, sat on the floor and wanked myself silly that first night - in my own room - celebrating my independence and my own - MY OWN - home, such as it was,- and right above where I worked and I was starting to see some light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

I wasn't a child any more.

I enjoyed being naked and hard and I sat on, climbed on, walked around every corner of that room, naked, with a stiff dick, and it was such a turn on.

I worked hard. The owner would come round once or twice a week to see how I was doing and we would have sex and he even offered the room for free as long as we could have sex at least twice a week, and that was great. Why the fuck not ? I washed cars all day and saved my money in the evenings by selling sex at the Earls Court Clinique which was a gay brothel back in the '80s and I was popular.

I was young and everything was exciting about London and the gay scene and it wasn't long before I felt right at home, met some people who became friends and who I still know 40 years later, and was the beginning of my rising star. For that's how it became.

I was soon working in a gay bar at nights behind the bar and that led onto me being the bar manager and eventually after some years, the company sent me on several ' in house' training courses and in my late 20's I was offered my own pub - as manager - by the brewery who saw potential in me.

That was the start of my rise and when years after I returned home to my adopted parents ( who had thrown me out ) and who were gobsmacked to see me drive up in a really expensive ( company ) car, and beautifully dressed, and thank them for what they had done as it made me get up and get on and do something with my life, and they fawned all over me saying how they knew I would do well, ( fuckers - ) and I never looked back after that.

Now, my story is true. BUT: I witnessed and knew many young guys who were not so lucky, not so spunky or as hung and ballsie as me who got swallowed up by the sex scene in London and because there were so many lads like me who, back then, were thrown out by family for being gay and ending up on the streets in London with nothing, and many, and I mean MANY , simply did not make it. Drowning in bad people, bad times and depression drove many to drugs ( I never touched drugs and drank minimally ) and sadly putting themselves at risk of catching HIV and many died of Aids - or suicide - long before their time and many - MANY - still in their 20's.

I am / was - one of those who survived, used it for what I needed and moved on, out of the sex business and into main stream employment. I had a good mind and learned fast and today I look back and a tear does come to my eye remembering so many who simply, and tragically , didn't make it.

I retire in a couple of years after a lifetime working for the same brewery and became a hotel manager in one of their sites, and have had a partner for almost 20 years and look back at those times, which I will never forget and remember with actual pride - because - I survived where sadly, many didn't.

Tony ( Known years ago as Tall Tony. )

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JB ANSWERS: I remember the Earls Court Clinique. Tacky place. Often filled with these boys who you wouldn't / couldn't trust as many were constantly on the look out for the next fix, the next con, the next money making deal and the next gullible person they could rip off. I knew a couple of lads who worked there and because they were older and joined my agency - 30PLUS - I looked after them and always kept an eye open in case of trouble, drugs, booze, anything that could take them down that path towards a bad ending, and would ' have a little chat' with them and help where I could. I would drill into them every time... SAFE SEX ALWAYS, and all I could do wa shope they paid atention and survived.

There were the success stories... like Tony above and I do hope more of them managed to survive and make a life for themselves after the sex industry.

d Many were lost before they even started and it was tragic.

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