Tommy’s DayLet me make one thing clear right from the get-go. I’m not queer. At the most, I was a bicycle, although I preferred to think I was just a guy with a peculiar talent for getting it up for anyone. But I wouldn’t do it with guys without money changing hands. Like they say, I was gay for pay, and that sure as s**t wasn’t the same as being straight-out gay. Pardon the pun.
Another thing, I was a bat boy. Toted serious lumber—an uncut loggerhead of a d**k. When I was younger, guys used to pay nickels and dimes for a peek, and a quarter to touch the old dong while it was hard. Somewhere along the line, a kid offered a buck to watch me skin the pole and about swooned when I came. A couple of years later, the same dude paid me a fiver to let him lick it, which turned into my first blow
