Gregory Halpern
Devil Boy in a Blue Dress
__________________
“Tyrone,” she said, repeating the name I gave her.
“Yeah,” I said. “Tyrone Jones. I heard he works here.”
“Who are you?” the old queen asked. She was wearing a stained, pink satin kimono robe that barely covered up her big gut.
“Billy Boy Blue,” I said.
“Well, well,” she said. “I’ve sure heard about you.”
She opened the door and I got a whiff of what a male whorehouse really smells like. And it wasn’t pretty. Kinda cheesy, like Smegma City.
She let me in, entrée to Highland Dinge, the fly-by-night whorehouse on West Chimes. It used to be a frat house on the corner, now it was a dump for queers.
I looked back over my shoulder, making sure nobody saw me coming thru the door. I was a pious white boy, no prostitutes and whiskey for me.
“A martini?” Etheline asked. That was her name. She be the male madame, the proprietor of the joint.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’m in a rush.”
“Aren’t we all, baby,” Etheline said.
I heard some loud moaning and groaning upstairs. It sounded like Devil Boy had a trick up there. I lit a cigarette and sat down to wait.
“Devil Boy sure enough talks about you a lot, Billy Blue,” Etheline said. “You like ‘em big don’t ya, honey?”
The mere mention of size caused a pang of guilt in my guts. I looked away, thinking about the last time I got it on with the kid. I was definitely a dinge queen, but I was a size queen too. It was that image that brought me to the dumpy Highland Drive brothel.
I nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I’ve known the kid since he was a boy in Gretna. That’s when the Vieux Carré Queens got their hands on him. He’d been a go-go boy at Lafitte’s for awhile, entertaining the sailors.”
“Yeah, honey,” Etheline said. “I heard all about it.”
I remembered Lafitte’s. The MP’s would leave the French Quarter on Saturday night, and then come back Sunday morning to count the dead sailors.
“It was survival of the fittest,” I said.
“Yeah, and the way Devil Boy tells it,” Etheline added, “the fittest young stud was him.”
I didn’t even know the male madam’s Christian name, but I was ready to strangle her to death. The Devil Boy in a Blue Dress was on my mind, and I was getting tired of waiting fast.
That’s when Devil Boy came sauntering down the staircase—with a man’s white dress shirt and nothing else. All the buttons were undone except the bottom one. His lush figure peeking out with each step. He was barely eighteen and any man who saw him would pay for his time.
When he sneered at me, I lost all my pride.
“Well?” his sneer turned into a frown. “What do you want?”
I just sat there looking at him, taking him all in.
“Uh-uh,” the kid said.
He undid the one button and lifted the tails of the shirt so I could see what was there. For a moment I forgot about why I was there. So much for Etheline and Tigertown.
Devil Boy was always in a blue dress, whether he was naked or not. He was a pale colorless albino kid, except for his pure chocolate cock. It must’ve weighed a ton. He was young, untouched by gravity or any terrestrial concerns.
“How much?” I asked.
“More than you could ever fork over.”
I followed him up the stairs, leaving Etheline behind me. I left the whole world behind me, the whole fucking works.
“You got thirty minutes,” Etheline said.
His room smelled like cigarette smoke, sex, K-Y, and sandalwood incense. The kid let his shirt drop to the floor and sneered at me.
I closed the door. I got down on my hands and knees. There were no closets—in the room or in my head. My lips were a big mattress and my knees box springs.
“So you still want me?” he said.
All I could see was pink elephants. Parading around in front of me. I didn’t have to say anything—he fucked me in the mouth.
He sneered at me some more. It never made me nervous. It just turned me on some more. The kid was such a haughty bitch, but he knew I needed it.
His nipples were erect, they could pierce a Brink’s truck armor. I pealed it back, his pink head stared at me. I got my tongue tip into his slit—it must’ve been an inch thick. That’s where I wanted to be—deep inside his twelve inch Zimbabwe dick.
He pumped his heels into the air, it was dinnertime on the purple couch. I made sure he wouldn’t be playin solitaire for a long time—the way I got him down to the very last sneering drop.
“So what else is new,” he said.
“I want you to move in with me,” I told him.
“Yeah, fat chance,” he said.
“Like I’ve got an apartment down the street. You know the Chez Chimes Lounge. My Sugar Daddy finally kicked the bucket up there in Shreveport. I’m in the money now, baby. I bought the fuckin’ joint. I want you to be my kept boy.”
“That dump?” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, kid. I got the interior decorators working on it already. Starting with the third floor apartment with a view of the street and campus. You’ll like it.”
“Maybe,” the kid said, inhaling a joint.
“I’ll make it worth your while, kid.”
“Yeah, how much.”
I just smiled at him. Knowing if I paid him too much, he’d just fuckin’ run away. He couldn’t wait to get outta town, he wanted to get back to the Big Easy. Except that Katrina that bitch had ruined a lot things. But then that was another story.
“I don’t cater to dirty white boyz,” he said.
I stood up and took out my wallet, giving the kid four hundred dollar bills. He took them, sized me up.
“C’mon kid, let’s get outta here. I need ya bad.”
“You don’t need me. You need what I got.”
“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” I said. “Being around you I can’t even remember the last time. Down in the Big Easy. You’re the prettiest guy ever. And all the man I’ll ever need or love. You know that. I need a man in my life. And I feel like he’s right here with me. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” the kid whispered. “I know.”
__________________
“Tyrone,” she said, repeating the name I gave her.
“Yeah,” I said. “Tyrone Jones. I heard he works here.”
“Who are you?” the old queen asked. She was wearing a stained, pink satin kimono robe that barely covered up her big gut.
“Billy Boy Blue,” I said.
“Well, well,” she said. “I’ve sure heard about you.”
She opened the door and I got a whiff of what a male whorehouse really smells like. And it wasn’t pretty. Kinda cheesy, like Smegma City.
She let me in, entrée to Highland Dinge, the fly-by-night whorehouse on West Chimes. It used to be a frat house on the corner, now it was a dump for queers.
I looked back over my shoulder, making sure nobody saw me coming thru the door. I was a pious white boy, no prostitutes and whiskey for me.
“A martini?” Etheline asked. That was her name. She be the male madame, the proprietor of the joint.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’m in a rush.”
“Aren’t we all, baby,” Etheline said.
I heard some loud moaning and groaning upstairs. It sounded like Devil Boy had a trick up there. I lit a cigarette and sat down to wait.
“Devil Boy sure enough talks about you a lot, Billy Blue,” Etheline said. “You like ‘em big don’t ya, honey?”
The mere mention of size caused a pang of guilt in my guts. I looked away, thinking about the last time I got it on with the kid. I was definitely a dinge queen, but I was a size queen too. It was that image that brought me to the dumpy Highland Drive brothel.
I nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I’ve known the kid since he was a boy in Gretna. That’s when the Vieux Carré Queens got their hands on him. He’d been a go-go boy at Lafitte’s for awhile, entertaining the sailors.”
“Yeah, honey,” Etheline said. “I heard all about it.”
I remembered Lafitte’s. The MP’s would leave the French Quarter on Saturday night, and then come back Sunday morning to count the dead sailors.
“It was survival of the fittest,” I said.
“Yeah, and the way Devil Boy tells it,” Etheline added, “the fittest young stud was him.”
I didn’t even know the male madam’s Christian name, but I was ready to strangle her to death. The Devil Boy in a Blue Dress was on my mind, and I was getting tired of waiting fast.
That’s when Devil Boy came sauntering down the staircase—with a man’s white dress shirt and nothing else. All the buttons were undone except the bottom one. His lush figure peeking out with each step. He was barely eighteen and any man who saw him would pay for his time.
When he sneered at me, I lost all my pride.
“Well?” his sneer turned into a frown. “What do you want?”
I just sat there looking at him, taking him all in.
“Uh-uh,” the kid said.
He undid the one button and lifted the tails of the shirt so I could see what was there. For a moment I forgot about why I was there. So much for Etheline and Tigertown.
Devil Boy was always in a blue dress, whether he was naked or not. He was a pale colorless albino kid, except for his pure chocolate cock. It must’ve weighed a ton. He was young, untouched by gravity or any terrestrial concerns.
“How much?” I asked.
“More than you could ever fork over.”
I followed him up the stairs, leaving Etheline behind me. I left the whole world behind me, the whole fucking works.
“You got thirty minutes,” Etheline said.
His room smelled like cigarette smoke, sex, K-Y, and sandalwood incense. The kid let his shirt drop to the floor and sneered at me.
I closed the door. I got down on my hands and knees. There were no closets—in the room or in my head. My lips were a big mattress and my knees box springs.
“So you still want me?” he said.
All I could see was pink elephants. Parading around in front of me. I didn’t have to say anything—he fucked me in the mouth.
He sneered at me some more. It never made me nervous. It just turned me on some more. The kid was such a haughty bitch, but he knew I needed it.
His nipples were erect, they could pierce a Brink’s truck armor. I pealed it back, his pink head stared at me. I got my tongue tip into his slit—it must’ve been an inch thick. That’s where I wanted to be—deep inside his twelve inch Zimbabwe dick.
He pumped his heels into the air, it was dinnertime on the purple couch. I made sure he wouldn’t be playin solitaire for a long time—the way I got him down to the very last sneering drop.
“So what else is new,” he said.
“I want you to move in with me,” I told him.
“Yeah, fat chance,” he said.
“Like I’ve got an apartment down the street. You know the Chez Chimes Lounge. My Sugar Daddy finally kicked the bucket up there in Shreveport. I’m in the money now, baby. I bought the fuckin’ joint. I want you to be my kept boy.”
“That dump?” he said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, kid. I got the interior decorators working on it already. Starting with the third floor apartment with a view of the street and campus. You’ll like it.”
“Maybe,” the kid said, inhaling a joint.
“I’ll make it worth your while, kid.”
“Yeah, how much.”
I just smiled at him. Knowing if I paid him too much, he’d just fuckin’ run away. He couldn’t wait to get outta town, he wanted to get back to the Big Easy. Except that Katrina that bitch had ruined a lot things. But then that was another story.
“I don’t cater to dirty white boyz,” he said.
I stood up and took out my wallet, giving the kid four hundred dollar bills. He took them, sized me up.
“C’mon kid, let’s get outta here. I need ya bad.”
“You don’t need me. You need what I got.”
“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” I said. “Being around you I can’t even remember the last time. Down in the Big Easy. You’re the prettiest guy ever. And all the man I’ll ever need or love. You know that. I need a man in my life. And I feel like he’s right here with me. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” the kid whispered. “I know.”
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