The poster said, "BOY AVAILABLE FOR ANAL TIMES!" I remembered thinking that it has to be legit; after all, no one would post a false advertisement on a supporting column of the 42^nd street subway, New York City. The A line, to be exact. In particular, not anything dealing with anal pleasure. I was thinking that it would indeed be a sad state of affairs if people living in our already desensitized, and dehumanized urban environment couldn't rely on anonymous ads advertising the possible availability of wrangling tight, muscular young men, with smooth pink buttocks, what could you rely on?

 

"TUBESTEAK BONANZA! THE BIGGER THE COCKTHE BETTER THE FIT-TIGHT IS RIGHT! RENT BOY LOVE YOU LONG TIME!"

 

The excitement inherent in the ad was palpable. As jaded as I normally am, even I started to feel the telltale tingle of excitement. The individual offering said services (Rentboy) was practically challenging any homosexual male with a penis larger than average (I would imagine any man owning anything south of six inches would just need to continue with a life of never ending masturbatory purgatory) to respond to the ad and put it to them, "Sir, in response to your salacious advertisement, here is my gigantic, vascular penis! Allow me to increase the delicious friction inherent when shoving an oversized purple gland penis into an impossibly tight fitting anal orifice!"

 

Any homosexual (call me passé, but I prefer the old fashioned nomenclature instead of the more common term, gay) worth her salt would be salivating and checking their bank balance to see if there were enough funds available to partake of this so called 'Rent boy' (even though the ad was silent as to money, I was more than sanguine and knew how the world REALLY works to know that shoving a fully erect cock, attached to balls full of man milk, never comes out free). How dare the author of this preposterously shallow ad think anyone could refuse the challenge of thrusting their engorged and erect member up an idealized youth's pink and succulent anus? Where would the beauty to life be; where would the poets find their inspiration knowing that there are sweet, slightly innocent youths out there with rosy pink anus', freshly waxed, waiting for a Monster Cock to ravage them and leave them and their sweet puckering anus as destitute as the Western Roman Empire after Attila raped and pillaged them?

 

No, I thought, I am not the kind of fruitcake who would leave a challenge as breathtakingly arrogant as this go unchallenged. I checked my account balance and saw that I had more than enough to sally forth and despoil this offending youth's anus. The buttocks would be so smooth, the muscles lying underneath the succulent flesh of said buttocks as unyielding as the finest example of Krupp steel; I would be Attila to his Flavius Aetius. However, suddenly, it occurred to me that Attila lost to Aetius.

 

Later on while getting comfortable at my apartment in the eastern outskirts of the Bronx, safely away from the Negroid and Hispanic riff raff of the inner Bronx, (being a proud member of the Italian American community, I was brought up to look down upon these smelly, greasy monkeys), I took the opportunity to Google the copy of the ad to see if there were others who partook of the sweet nectars of this flamboyant youth and decided to share their hopefully wonderful experiences. Interestingly, there was a vast trove of comments on said ad. The overwhelming majority was positive (TIGHT, REAL TIGHT!), which eased my concerns somewhat.

 

I continued to search the internet for additional information on this RENT BOY. Aside from the first two pages, nothing helpful came up. Interestingly, none of the comments mentioned exactly how to contact said Rentboy. All the comments just dealt with the rapturous nature of the ejaculation. Being an obsessive individual, I kept searching while masturbating to a picture of Justin Beiber when he was younger (I am very good at multitasking). Although the information available seemed to indicate a legitimate opportunity for two enlightened individuals to engage in a mutually satisfying bout of anal rump wrestling, I was still hesitant.

 

Could it be an undercover sting? Why was there no contact information? No, I reasoned. This is New York City, gay capital of the Northeast. Queens and cross-dressing Jewish momma's boys ran the city (with help from the occasional pedophile priest). The police would never dare to hoist a sting upon the Gay community. Unless it were a prostitution ring.

 

Once again, I reviewed the words of the post. No, I was correct, there was no mention of financial remuneration; the Quid Pro Quo that would stamp it with the ugly moniker of prostitution was missing. The ad simply stated in simple English "BOY WITH TIGHT ASSHOLE AVAILABLE FOR FUN TIMES!" followed by "FUN TIMES FOR ALL! PUNISH MY ASS WITH THE ONE EYED WORM!" There was no mention of any exchange of money or any contact information. The only thing left to do was consummate the transaction.

 

Sleep finally bested me around three in the morning. My despondency over not attaining immediate satisfaction did not prevent me from abusing myself twice more. I knew that my cock would be sore, but somehow or other, I had to release the sexual frustrations within me. I worry about these cravings; so violent, yet so sexy. As I slowly submitted to the tender embraces of sleep, I realized that if I were to one-day meet up with the young boy of the ad, I would probably have to gut him after making love to his sweet, pink anus. Probably.