A Consumer's Guide to Male Hustlers

 

A Consumer's Guide to Male Hustlers

 

Joseph Itiel

 

Harrington Park Press

An Imprint of The Haworth Press, Inc.

New York • London

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

More than forty years ago, Joseph Itiel decided to bring under control his gay erotic instincts. He traveled to Rishikesh, India, where he studied Yoga in an ashram. Yoga toned his body but left its sexual needs unanswered. He then renounced sex completely. This made him feel irritable, preoccupied, and thwarted. He returned to the world of the flesh, and after exploring various paths in many countries, found his answer in a unique gay lifestyle. He meets with hustlers regularly, establishing mutually beneficial relations with them. He makes his home in San Francisco, CA.

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

 

My first thanks must go to Steve Kotz, who urged me to write this book and then helped me prepare the manuscript. He made invaluable suggestions to assist me in dealing with sensitive issues. It was he who encouraged me to share myself fully with my readers. Thanks also to Howard Curtis and David Klein, who read the manuscript. Their insightful comments and observations were incorporated into the work. For many years Vicki Newton has urged me to persevere in my writing in the face of rejections and indifference by agents and publishers. When I all but gave up, her support kept me going.

All characters in this book are real. However, I have taken great pains to change not only their names, but also their physical and ethnic descriptions, as well as their places of origin and the work they do. Consequently, any similarity to living or dead persons is purely coincidental.

 

 

Also by Joseph Itiel

 

Financial Weil-Being Through Self-Hypnosis

The Franz Document

Philippine Diary: A Gay Guide to the Philippines

De Onda: A Gay Guide to Mexico and Its People

Pura Vida: A Gay and Lesbian Guide to Costa Rica

 

 

Introduction

 

 

If you are a gay man practicing abstinence, or are in a strict monogamous relationship, this book is not for you. Likewise, if you are content to go to bars and return home horny and alone, or spend untold hours in a sex club without scoring, you do not need this book.

The purpose of this work is to acquaint readers who have a vigorous sexual appetite with a resource available in the gay community that is often shunned or used inappropriately. It is not my intention to romanticize or glamorize hustlers. As in my previous guidebooks, I want to share with readers my personal experiences and observations.

My dealings with hustlers, over a period of some thirty-five years and in many countries, have been (with a few notable exceptions!) very satisfactory. In addition to good sex, I have also developed emotional relationships with a number of hustlers. The very nature of our relationships have kept our deepening emotional involvement under control, which is a good thing for all concerned.

Control is a very important issue for both hustlers and their clients. I will explore the many facets of this issue in this book. For the moment, let me say that by assuming control over my sexual fortunes I have escaped the profound mood swings associated with the uncertain results of cruising.

My goal is to dispel many erroneous notions about hustlers. Among the many issues I will explore are:

- Are sex-for-money arrangements exploitative?

- Can there be emotional involvement between clients and hustlers?

- Can only the wealthy afford hustlers?

- Aren't hustlers likely carriers of sexually transmitted diseases?

- How dangerous is the hustling scene?

- Why do hustlers hustle?

- Are male and female prostitution just two sides of the same coin?

- What are the differences between street hustlers, models (sometimes called escorts), and masseurs?

There are a number of legal issues associated with hustling. They will be discussed at length in the appropriate places. For the moment, I would like to address one aspect: This book refers only to men who have reached the age of majority and can make their own decisions, free from physical or psychological coercion. I DO NOT ADVOCATE OR PROMOTE CHILD PROSTITUTION.

As a travel writer I have discussed situations in which gay travelers run into minors, of both sexes, who solicit business aggressively. At times, it is impossible to ascertain the true age of the people accosting them. My advice has always been the same: "When in doubt regarding the age of your prospective partner, just say NO." The person whose age you question is replaceable with another hustler. Underage hustlers are a major hassle you do not need!

This is a book about a sex resource rather than about finding love. However, seeing hustlers can facilitate establishing a love relationship because it makes dating easier. It takes less determination not to seek immediate sexual gratification on a date after having had a good session with a hustler. Regular sessions with hustlers as an emotional and libidinal sedative is a subject I shall discuss at length.

Probably the most common complaint in gay life is that (other) people play games. Not infrequently, both players wind up the losers in these games. With hustlers, if you know what you are doing, and your partner is cooperative, both parties will be winners. My goal is to help readers achieve win/win experiences with their hustlers.

 

 

Chapter 1

How It Began

 

 

This is a book about hustlers. The biographical information in this chapter is not essential to the subject of this work. Here I want to share with readers my sexual evolution—from haphazard cruising to planned sex with hustlers; to explain how, at the age of twenty-six, I discovered the benefits of hiring hustlers; and how it was possible for me, earning an average salary, to pay for their services. If you are not interested in my personal history, feel free to skip this chapter.

My first homosexual encounter took place in New York City. I arrived there in 1950, as a student, at the age of nineteen. Until then I had lived in Tel Aviv, Israel. Even though I had known from a very early age that I was gay, the thought of performing homosexual acts led to a feeling of profound anxiety. In my four years in New York, I had only two such experiences.
1
Both were far from ideal.

1
. I have described my first experience in an autobiographical short story called "The Hurly-Burly," published in
My First Time: Gay Men Describe Their First Same-Sex Experience
, edited by Jack Hart (Boston: Alyson Publications, 1995), pp. 73-75.

After graduating from college, I moved to Toronto, Ontario, and entered law school. The pressure of my studies increased my sexual urge. We took up criminal law in the first semester, and I became acutely aware of the severe penalties for indulging in a homosexual act. In 1955, homosexuality was still very much illegal in Canada, though the law was not enforced rigidly. But I could not stop myself from seeking sex partners.

I started cruising the parks in Toronto. It was wintertime and bitterly cold. Very few people, straight or gay, were out and about. Eventually, in the spring, I discovered the one cruise-worthy location in Toronto, aptly named Queen's Park. There I managed, occasionally and with great trepidation, to make contact with fellow cruisers.

In those days Toronto was, by and large, an Anglo-Saxon city. Alas, fair people have never appealed to me sexually. From boyhood on, I have been attracted to darker and, in my eyes, more exotic men. I remember vividly that in my early teens I had acquired a lot of travel books, with photographs of people the world over. I would stare endlessly at photos of African, American Indian, and Asian men, and fantasize lustfully. For whatever reasons, I paid no attention to the men who looked like myself.

Because of my sexual preferences, I was not particularly attracted to most of the men I saw at Queen's Park. The very few I cared for did not fancy me. The men I finally got it on with, after endless cruising, were of little interest to me physically. I comforted myself that having sex with them was better than nothing. For practical reasons, I tried to meet some of my less-than-ideal contacts on a regular basis but this rarely worked out. None of the people I had met ever talked about becoming lovers or even boyfriends.

I did not know about gay bars until much later. Even if I had known about them earlier, my life would not have improved. In those days, in Ontario, only the bartender was permitted to move drinks from one spot to another. Also, patrons were not allowed to stand while holding drinks. When I stumbled, finally, upon a mainly gay bar in Toronto, I felt like a prisoner in it. For me, cruising the parks was the lesser of two evils.

By the end of my first year at law school, there were too many pressures on me to allow me to pursue my studies. My instructors repeated over and over again how we, as lawyers, would become "officers of the court." Compulsively cruising Queen's Park on freezing nights, and bringing home outlandish men, was not the proper behavior for an officer of one of Her Majesty's courts of law.

I dropped out of law school at the end of the first year. By fall, I found myself in an ashram in Rishikesh, India (the Beatles went there a few years later), studying Yoga to learn how to master my sexual urges. Whatever else Yoga did for me, it did not diminish or stifle my libidinal force. I returned to Canada, this time to Montreal, but could not cope with the cold weather, and went to Mexico City to seek my fortune.

I arrived in Mexico on January 1, 1957. I fell in love with the country and its people instantly. The balmy climate, the scenery, the architecture, and the friendliness of the people endeared Mexico to me. It helped that I was enormously attracted to Mexican men. I liked the color of their skin, their facial features, and their habitual smiling.

Within two weeks I found a job, a place to live, and various cruising spots. I also started studying Spanish on my own, practicing my newly acquired vocabulary on everybody I met.

In Mexico City the large parks, the wide boulevards, and even the small
glorietas
(mini-parks with a fountain in the center) were good cruising places. There was a lot of public sex going on in these places, but that was not my style.

In Toronto I had been tongue-tied when trying to make conversation with fellow cruisers. In Mexico City I boldly addressed whomever I liked, managing quite well with my very limited Spanish. There was a new vitality to my cruising. I did not just need to get it on because I was driven; I wanted to have sex with the beautiful and
simpático
guys who surrounded me.

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