As my time continued in Germany, I had more experiences with other men. Mostly Germans, but a few other Americans too (that’s another story). As my four years in Germany were coming to an end, I knew I had some decisions to make. When I returned to the states, I would start my Officer advanced course as a Captain and move into the stages of my military career. For me, it was a time to reflect on whether or not my military career was going to be a long-term commitment or a one-tour fling. I enjoyed the Army, and I had gotten so much more out of it than they had gotten out of me. Not that I hadn’t done a good job, I just had the better deal at this point. But my official contractual obligation had been met. The pit in my stomach grew every day as I thought about the reality of hiding what was a core part of being for another 6 to 10 years.
I was on leave back in the states before I would report back to duty. My friends knew me and I had a chance to talk about things openly for one the first time openly and honestly. As I drove back to base after my leave I was distraught. I knew I couldn’t pretend anymore. So when I reported to my commander, I told him that I needed to talk to him about something in private. When I walked into his office I could see the concern on his face because he could see I was in some kind of crisis. I got up the nerve and told him that I was gay. He sat back in his chair and said, “Oh.” He told me that I didn’t have to do this and that if I wanted to change my mind, he would forget the conversation. He had real concern for me. He was worried I might try to kill myself. I assured him that it was quite the opposite and that if I tried to hide it anymore that would be the thing that would make me kill myself. He nodded his head and told me that it was now out of his hands and that regulations would take over. I was arrested, and brought to the MP station in a squad car (the only reason I wasn’t handcuffed was my commander ordered the MPs not to). I sat in the MP station as one person after another paraded by to take a look at the officer who had told his commander he was a fag. It was hard, but not as hard as having to report to the Brigade commander who was not anywhere near as compassionate as my company commander. I could feel the hatred coming off of this guy as I stood before him at attention. But in the end, it was all just words.
I spent the next 6 months on a loose restriction to base. They put me in a basement computer room with a civilian woman who I was sure was a lesbian. I helped her in whatever way I could. Mostly busy work. But at night I was still free to go about my business. And that I did. I started going to actual gay bars in a nearby city. I questioned my plans a little bit as I saw all the other gay soldiers there on the weekends. but I knew I wanted more than a weekend life of secrecy.
I met hot bartenders, drag queens, hustlers, horny dads, and other soldiers… you name it, they were there at the Alley Kat!
Fast forward about 5 years or so. I had met my first partner and I moved in with him. After a few years, we moved to San Diego with new jobs. My partner was HIV positive, but healthy. He taught me how to protect myself and it became a little less scary. Although it was still before the life-saving drug cocktail would be available, there was always a sense of impending doom. My partner knew that I was very new to all of this and he never wanted me to restrict my experiences (to a point). Eventually, we parted as partners but remained close and even lived together most of the time up until his death.
I had this job and that job… nothing very consequential. Eventually, I became a bartender at the local Leather/Levi bar called Wolfs. It was fun work and the perks were a playground that could be locked up at the end of the night with a small group of men to suck and fuck our way around every corner of that bar. From the pool table to the bathrooms, to the bar itself. My DNA was all over that place. the bar has long since closed and been turned into a trendy neighborhood bar with windows and everything. Whenever I go past it now, I just laugh… if they only knew the sex that had taken place there!
One night about midway through the opening shift, a man came in and sat down at the bar. I nodded to him as I was pouring a beer that I would be there in a moment. He nodded back and I did a double take. I couldn’t quite place him, but I was sure I knew him somehow. I went down to where he was sitting and asked him what he was having. He ordered a draft beer with a big smile and I walked off to pour it for him. then it hit me! It was Clint Lockner in my bar ordering a drink for me. I walked back to where he sat and put the beer in front of him and told him that I knew who he was and that his money was no good here… all drinks on the house.
He was clearly older, clearly battling AIDS, but still had that angular, chiseled, masculine good looks that had turned me on so many years ago. He was still in good shape too. I stumbled to find the words to express to him what a part he had played in my life. I told him story after story about finding pictures of him and then the video debacle in Germany, in between servicing the other patrons at the bar. I was surprised that more people were not hovering around him. Other than a few people who came up to say hi because they had known him personally back in the day.
My shift ended and asked if he could buy me a beer as thanks for all the beers I had comped him. Of course, I jumped at the chance. We talked more about the early days when he had done his first work for Colt. he told me that when he had done those photo shoots and videos, he was an actual LA cop! The uniform and gun and baton were all real, and he had been fired for it. I told him of my time in the Army and how it had ended with an arrest. We hit it off, but when he asked if I wanted to go back to his place, I almost lost it. “Fuck yeah!” was my only response.
We made our way to his apartment a few miles away. He offered me a beer as I looked around his place. It was filled with interesting art. Some of the art was decorative, some were pornographic, and some were photos of him being Clint Lockner. I had always wondered if his porn career was something he looked on favorably or something he didn’t want to highlight. I had met other porn stars who absolutely wanted nothing more to do with it. But, without being obnoxious about it, he seemed to have a healthy pride in his work as a Colt model and displayed some work of his proudly. He sat down in his lounge chair with his beer, and his legs spread wide. I sat down on the floor in front of him because that just seemed like where I was supposed to be. It felt natural and exciting. We drank our beers and talked about his time back in the day. It made me hard and I put my head on his leg as we continued to talk. I could see him getting hard too… a blind man could have seen him getting hard. While I was already sure, and I had had a partner with HIV for several years, he was responsible and let me know his status. I told him I was sad anyone was going through that, but it made no difference to me and that we knew how to be safe. I started to rub the thickening bulge running down his pant leg. He smiled and sat back in the chair. I opened his pants and wrestled his fat cock out of his pants. he lifted up a bit to allow me to pull his pants down. I pulled off his boots as his big dick waved around in the air in front of my face. Then I took off all of my clothes. A good cocksucker is naked in my book. kneeling in front of him, I took his cockhead into my mouth. It was a magical experience as the fat cock of my porn star hero slid into my throat. I thought about all the places his dick had been over the years. The places it had been as I watched his videos, the other cocksuckers before me. It was truly a bit overwhelming. I worked on his cock as he gently encouraged me with soft moans and words of praise. “that’s a good cocksucking boy.” “Work on that big dick, son.” Every once in a while he’d open up a bottle of poppers and hold it for me to sniff, then he would do the same. His dick would get even harder at those times. His eyes would roll back in his head as I swallowed all of his fat meat straight down my throat. I had been working on perfecting my cocksucking skills and had become quite good at it… an expert cocksucker really, if I did say so myself. He gently grabbed my head and fucked my mouth. But mostly he just kicked back and let me go to work. I was so proud that he was enjoying it as much as I was. I worked on his fat penis for about an hour. until he pulled out and grabbed his shaft tight with his masculine hand as he shot a huge load over my face. Heaven. I had wanted to swallow, but it was a time when that was considered a bit too risky. We know better now.
He heaped on the praise of my cocksucking abilities and I told him how much of a rush it was to have met up with him and live out a true fantasy.
We exchanged numbers and he told me that he would really like for me to come by again. Of course, I did, and was such a great host. He cooked me dinner and we chatted more about our pasts and just who we were in general. It’s one thing to have a hero in a glossy magazine, but to actually meet him and find out what a totally great man he is is something else. He knew exactly how long we needed to wait after dinner before I would be able to, as he put it, “do that number on my dick again.” And I did do it again, but this time, he stood up and brought me into his bedroom where he fucked my hole like a stallion. He once again gave me words of praise that made me blush.
He was leaving for several weeks to go somewhere and then one thing after another happened… Life, I guess you call it. But that was my last time being with Clint physically. It was maybe a year later and I was looking through the local gay paper. they were filled with obituaries at the time and I often just passed them by. I had enough people I knew were dying or dead and didn’t need to fill my mind up with every last one. But the piercing eyes of Clint Lockner jumped out at me. My heart sunk, my eyes filled and I was struck by such a feeling of loss, but other feelings of love and gratitude for having been able to meet him as I had. They were holding a memorial at his home that Saturday. I went to the memorial, but I wasn’t a part of his life like his other friends and lovers were. I could really only be thought of as a trick to most of the other people there. But one of his partners pulled me aside and said something that stays with me to this day. He asked me if I was the guy he made that last video with. I said no, I never made any videos. We had had sex, but… He quickly changed the subject, but I have always wondered if maybe he had a video of us having sex that he just never got a chance to show me. Man oh man, if I could ever watch a secret video of Clint and me having sex, that would be the topper in my porn star hero experience.
Years later, after just about everyone I had known in those days was dead, I decided to look up my partner’s quilt panel. The internet had gone into full swing by then and I was able to look it up online. they had a picture of each panel grouping. I brought up the picture and I’ll be damned if right next to my partner’s quilt was Clint Lockner’s quilt. It was a surreal experience that reminded me of the magic of life. I picture them together in a gay heaven having mad wild ecstatic sexual adventures.
Clint Lockner
