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There were no porn shops were a young man could search for titles that would show him the way. There were no gay films, no porn videos, and no magazines like Drummer. There were a few books about lavender men who usually ended up as suicides and, of course, there was Wilde, and Gide, and Walt Whitman, but they were so unromantic and unspecific.

In brief, there was nothing openly sexual for the budding leatherman to read. Leather few weeks after my nineteenth birthday, Fate wiggled her fickle finger in my direction and my life changed forever. Call it destiny or kismet or just plain luck— whatever you call it, his name was Charley, and he rode a beat-up old Harley.

Hitchhiking back to Hollywood from downtown L. These men, both gay and straight, had been damaged by the war and felt that they could "never go home again. They had been bar boys when they left home to serve Uncle Sam in his great war against the Axis nations.

Six years later they came home broken men with nowhere to go and no reason to go there. Charley was simply one among many who had come back to an unwelcome world. Captured, leathered, mutilated beyond repair, he found a new identity with his fellow bikers who rode hard and played rough. After two nightmare years in a Japanese prison camp he had still not broken and gaytumblr punished by having gaytumblr balls cut off.

He was discarded and left to die. But Charley survived. At first all I knew about Charley was that he worked as a stuntman, rode a Harley, drank a lot of beer, and hung out at a biker bar with his war buddies and their partners. It was the kind of bar where bar crowd was loud and the action was rowdy and rough.

Today, in the s, the concept of courtship seems almost as old-fashioned as the word itself. But back in those early days of leather, there was real courtship and seduction. I had grown up in Greenwich Village and knew what homosexuals were.

Director Travis Mathews Talking Gay/Straight ‘Interior. Leather Bar.’

They were limp-wristed, lisping sissies and I knew a few. But I had no interest in those men at all. And it never occurred to me that butch, otherwise straight-looking guys were sucking cock and hauling ass. After a few weeks of hanging out with Charley and his biker buddies we ended up one night back at his place for a last round of beers.

His best friend and war buddy, JJ, and his roommate, Steve, were with us. The four of us were swilling beer and horsing around. We were all pretty pissed, and I remember that JJ made a remark about leaving the lovebirds alone. I was a little too deep in my cups to make sense of his remark and, aside from that, I never had a clue about what was going on or about to happen.

Charley was a big man, powerfully muscular and strong as an ox.