Rekers Rent Boy Reveals Trade Secrets

We thought there was a code of omertà about these things:

​The male escort hired by anti-gay activist George Alan Rekers has told Miami New Times the Baptist minister is a homosexual who paid him to provide body rubs once a day in the nude, during their ten-day vacation in Europe.

Rekers allegedly named his favorite maneuver the “long stroke” — a complicated caress “across his penis, thigh… and his anus over the butt cheeks,” as the escort puts it. “Rekers liked to be rubbed down there,” he says…

New Times spent more than three hours with Lucien in the wee hours of Thursday morning. Check back this afternoon for stories detailing the trip…

Dammit, we paid good money for a Learning Annex class on this. The Rent Boy Guild is gonna be pissed.

George Rekers Is a Homosexual, Escort Says [Miami New Times]
68 Comments

eeeee
TMI
especially after seeing a pic of the guy at the other link.

(huuuuuuuuuurrrrrllll)

Thanks for the mid-morning, eye-crossing, toe-curling dee-tales.

Now I won’t be able to touch my man for a week.

And Lucien, hunnie, I strongly recommend Infusium 23.

@Benedick: Well, I could post it immediately and step on SFL’s toes, slot it in after an appropriate delay, or ignore it entirely. Threadjacks don’t count.

@Original Andrew: He was looking a little MacGruber in one of those pictures, wasn’t he?

@Original Andrew:

Such unfortunate hair. And so skinny. You know that shit would be like hitting a fourteen-year-old. Bleh.

@nojo: Threadjacks don’t count? Bitterness will show in your work.

@Benedick: Just sayin’. SFL wrote an extensive post, and I didn’t want to shove it down the stack too quickly. I’m more than happy to bury one of mine, but if somebody else goes to the trouble of an essay, I like to give it a couple of hours to breathe.

“Let he who has never rubbed assess with a hawt-yung boi-thang and a double-ended black dildo cast the first stone.”

It’s one of THE COMMANDERMENTS, wretched heathens!

@Tommmcat Still Gets Carly Confused With Meg:

You know that shit would be like hitting a fourteen-year-old.

I’d have assumed that’s the idea – he’s a family-values Republican after all. Combine that with the fact that Rekers adopted a sixteen-year old boy, and the creepy factor goes to 11.

@al2o3cr: Please, let’s keep to the fun aspects not the years-in-therapy-before-leaping-off-bridge aspects.

@nojo: Loving the ‘Inner Strength’ massage table, BTW.

@Benedick: I actually debated whether to use something with a visible trademark, given the nature of the story. The brat won.

@Original Andrew:

I did not know the term “Double-Headed Dildo” was in the bible.

Live and learn.

@Tommmcat Still Gets Carly Confused With Meg: As I remember it comes with a warning not to fall to your knees and worship it. But I could be thinking of something else.

@Tommmcat Still Gets Carly Confused With Meg: I get Carly and Meg confused too.

And on the merits, just once a day? Or would he have to be a “lease boy” for more than that?

@Dodgerblue:

You’d think you’d get a lil’ more than a handjob once a day, if only for the price of the plane ticket and lodging.

@Tommmcat Still Gets Carly Confused With Meg: Reminds me of the jokes about Eliot Spitzer and his $4500/night hooker. She’d need to fuck me silly and paint my house for that kind of money.

@Dodgerblue:

Right? This kid would have to go down on me so often and for so long he’d need an oxygen tank hooked up to his nostrils.

Not that I’d rent a kid like that, but, you know, I work HARD for my money…

@Benedick: I think congratulations are in order. I just got a breaking news alert from the Washington Post stating “Britain appears heading for hung Parliament.”

@Benedick:

Sir, you owe me a new keyboard.

(golf claps)

@Benedick:

that is something you catch from Tiger Woods.

@Capt Howdy,
Benedick,
Dodgerblue,
Tommmcat Still Gets Carly Confused With Meg:

Tip your veal, try the waitress.

You boys are making the case for Nojo to install the rim shot sound effect here.

@SanFranLefty:
how about this

Chronic constipation killed Elvis Presley, claims his personal physician, Dr. George Nichopoulos

“We found stool in his colon which had been there for four or five months because of the poor motility of the bowel,” Nichopoulos said.

Elvis, he told Fox News, suffered from a hereditary condition called bowel paralysis, which made it difficult for him to go to the bathroom.

“He would get embarrassed,” he said. “He’d have accidents onstage. He’d have to change clothes and come back because of the way we were trying to treat his constipation.”

hmmm

lets check out some titles

DIRTY, DIRTY FEELING

DONCHA’ THINK IT’S TIME

EASY COME, EASY GO

GENTLY

HELP ME

HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL

I GOT A FEELIN’ IN MY BODY

I SHALL NOT BE MOVED

IT AIN’T NO BIG THING (BUT IT’S GROWING)

IT’S IMPOSSIBLE

IT’S STILL HERE

JESUS KNOWS WHAT I NEED

LET YOURSELF GO

PARALYZED

RIP IT UP

SLOWLY BUT SURELY

UNTIL IT’S TIME FOR ME TO GO

WHY ME, LORD

@Benedick: I recently spent a week of massage table hopping broken up with short but mandatory stretches of “meetings” and “work” and just want to say that I remain immensely impressed with how up close and personal those professionals can get with our body bits without crossing the line.

@Capt Howdy:

Im sorry. that was awful. I apologize to everyone. especially elvis.

@Capt Howdy: @Capt Howdy:

Nah. There is no way to violate a standard here because as far as I can tell there isn’t one.

@Capt Howdy: No worries. Elvis has, as they say, left the building.

@Benedick: If I recall correctly, the God of the palestinians before the jews, Baal, was a dick god, what do they call it, a phallic god, the statues they worshipped when worshipping Baal, were enormous phalluses, dildoes, so to speak.

@Capt Howdy: Taking lots of opiates will clog you all to hell up, and that personal physician, being the one who prescribed all the opiates for Elvis, might have had a personal reason to blame the constipation on something else.

I’ll go so far as to say that I heartily enjoy the effect of opiates, when they are precribed to me for pain, but, the hideous constipation they cause guarantees I will never make a habit of them.

@Nabisco: I have never had a professional massage, because I am so afraid of that line, not knowing where it is, not knowing how to know the diff between a real massageist who has lines, and those who don’t. And I am terrified of popping an inappropriate boner. left over from 6th grade, when those boners would just rear up, while you were at the blackboard and other such occasions, making you have to walk back to your desk all hunched over trying to hide the offending member’s obvious protuberance.

@Capt Howdy: Your post makes me curious, and I am wierded out by my curiousity, as to just what method is used in “dating” fecal matter. How the hell would they know its been there for months? those who believe in the school of high colonics believe that feces gets impacted and caught up in you for years, but doctors who debunk the high colonic thing say thats absurd, your body moves everything out, regularly.

@Promnight: I confess that I’ve grown quite fond of the whole “disrobe and get prone on the table, sir” ritual, to the extent that my last, bestest massage in French Indochina last week nearly disappointed when the masseuse handed me a tiny pair of santized briefs to put on. But she worked me like a piece of play dough, and more than earned her $5 tip on top of the outrageous forty bucks I paid for the hour.

I haven’t had the misfortune of inappropriate wood, but have an intellectual fascination with the deft touch these folks have when the peen flops to one side or the other just when they’re about to work that part of the upper thigh. It’s this delicate and discreet *flick* with the finger nearly unnoticeable and certainly unmentioned. I just remind myself that they’ve confronted countless ill-timed sproings in their work, and then lie back and think of England.

@Promnight: Professional massage therapists don’t blink an eye at a boner. It is not uncommon, and it only matters if you are expecting “release” (and your therapist is expecting to do that for you; from my substantial experience, when I want a massage I just want a massage). Just discreetly nudge the boner to whichever side is necessary as you intuit where his her hands will go next.

I sincerely believe that everyone deserves a massage.

@PedonatorUSA: I sincerely believe that everyone deserves a massage.

Weekly, at a minimum. I’m a total convert.

@Nabisco: I do, weekly. If I were Madonna or Bill Gates I’d hire a personal massage therapist at outrageous salary, with healthcare benefits, to travel around with me and do me daily.

@PedonatorUSA: There are joints in French Indochina where an hour sets you back no more than a $tarbuck$ carryout. Clean, air conditioned places, to boot.

@Nabisco: Nice.

Though I should mention, a massage is not a massage by any other name. Some therapists who don’t deserve the name will hose you down with oil while playing loud rock music during the massage: not a relaxing experience. Some will assume you want “release” when you really, really just want a good massage; those situations are awkward, to say the least.

I stoically sacrificed a few massage-less years between my first regular masseur and my current masseur, trying to find someone who did a good job. At times I despaired and gave up for a few months. I was truly at wit’s end. Perhaps you can imagine my pain and suffering, though I doubt it.

But when you find the right therapist it makes all the difference.

@PedonatorUSA: You make me more afraid, you suggest that indeed, one can engage a massuer, wanting only massage, only to have the massuer be something more than a massuer, and assuming you want more, to me that would be an appallingly awkward situation.

By the way, am I safe in assuming that the local asian massage business is indeed just a jackoff palace?

@Promnight: You just need to be clear on your expectations upfront; a really professional masseur or masseuse will make it clear upfront for you if there is any doubt due to the manner in which you locate him/her. Look for certification. And expect an anatomy poster in the massage room.

Don’t be afraid. It’s good to be touched. But for your first time, stay away from “deep tissue”–that can be beneficial, but initially painful.

…am I safe in assuming that the local asian massage business is indeed just a jackoff palace?

That, I wouldn’t know anything about. Investigate at your own peril.

@Promnight: A hippie/new age place is about 100 percent legit. There’s about zero chance of it being a prostitution front. The people working there are licensed (in New Mexico, anyway) and probably have better educations and have been more places than the average bear. Our priest isn’t as holy as those folks are. That might just be Santa Fe, however.

@Promnight: @redmanlaw: Same goes for upscale spas/salons. I wish I could afford to have massages–Beesko’s taunts of $40 massages are killing me . I only get them now when someone gives me a gift certificate.

@redmanlaw: I find that the hippie/new age places are a bit too gentle with me. It’s like they have to bland it down a bit to appeal to a generic one-timer taste. Usually when I travel I like to sample some local massage, but it almost never compares with what I get at home.

I like something between a traditional Swedish / light laying on of the hands and the full-monty deep-tissue.

Trial and error have taught me that it’s best when a massage therapist develops his/her own unique style based upon years of both education and private practice, as opposed to the therapists who are contracted or referred by resorts, massage institutions, etc.

Not to disparage the institutional practitioners, but when you develop a regular schedule with a good local masseur it seems to get better and better.

@Mistress Cynica: Feeling crushed like a cornerstone as I am now from various injuries and increased working out, I think I’d rather have a hot whirlpool with jets. The one at the gym is really gross, though.

@PedonatorUSA: My bestest place last week offered an “East-West fusion” characterized as ‘strong’ – it was fantastic. Soothing music, my choice of scented oils, and the lady found tension in places I didn’t know even existed. By contrast, I spent half as much at a place that everyone else was raving about, and left there feeling like the gal was slightly afraid of really working my muscles. Heavy on the ambiance, however.

Wow, between my new-found nose-in-air appreciation for massages and the occasional nod to fashion on these pages, Ma Nabisco may wonder if I’m the same sneaker and t-shirt cracker she married nearly 14 years ago.

@Promnight:

The solution is elegantly simple: book a massage with someone you’re not at all attracted to. Since I have the gay, for example, almost all of the massages I’ve received have been from women. Presto! No boner problemo.

I also recommend starting out with a shorter, 20 minute-ish massage to get used to the routine of it.

@Prom, Original Andrew, Cyn, Beesko: All in favor of Prom taking Mrs Prom for a spa weekend to a place where he can get a legit massage* that won’t land him on the 6 o’clock news for “Round Up at Cherry Blossom Nude Lotion Demo Parlor Nets 6” say “AYE.”

*and some looking into the woods/body of water/desert with a drink in hand in a fluffy robe by his own self time

@redmanlaw: The one at the gym is really gross, though. I love the smell of sweat soup in the morning.

@Mistress Cynica: If Obama’s health-care reform were truly Socialist it would include that earmark for weekly massages that the all-powerful librarians’ union tried to sneak in during late-night hours when CSPAN cameras averted their lenses.

@Nabisco: I may be a homo eeleetist but I still wear the same pair of sneakers and jeans every day until they fall off my body. Not to mention flannel shirts. Not that it stops me from the occasional fashion critique of my betters!

@redmanlaw: AYE! (I only hope Mrs. Promnight finds out about this democratic motion.)

@redmanlaw: Aye aye!

I gave Ma Nabisco a gift certificate for a couples spa treatment down in centroamurrika a few years ago. It involved coffee scrubs and frolicking nekkid in hot springs between rubdowns. Prom would be a convert, and he knows that there is a similar place near Chez Nabisco that has the very thing.

@Original Andrew: One of my massage specialists was a guy and shit, he had rough hands. I mean “callouses” rough. But I’ll bet this cabin boy Lucien uses a good hand cream, what with all the baggage he has to carry around.

@PedonatorUSA: We were so close, but then we started arguing about adding in coverage for cats and it all fell apart.

@Mistress Cynica: Cats need better lobbyists.

@Nabisco: I’ll bet this cabin boy Lucien uses a good hand cream…one must use the right tool for the (hand) job.

@Mistress Cynica: Ten Thousand Waves rules!

Rock and roll will never die: Tool’s 2010 summer tour dates (leg 1?) are up and Mrs RML wants to see the Green Day American Idiot show in NYC . . . U2 in Denver 0612 . . . the massive RML summer party will probbly be the next weekend . . . 062610

@Promnight:

excellent question.
and a excellent point about the opiates. I pretty much think the doctors are right about stuff hanging around in the colon. I have had enough colonoscopys to know this is bunk. at least as far as I am concerned.

@Nabisco: My funniest massage was at Harrogate spa in Yorkshire. Edwardian turkish bath of exceeding elegance in the ‘oriental’ tile dept. Almost up to Harrod’s fish hall standards. At the end of the hours spent steaming and relaxing and plunging in the green waters of the pool fed straight off the moors with no filters, big tough men laid you on wooden racks and pummeled the shit out of you. Then they hit you with towels and soap and last of all, stand you in a cage and turn a fire hose of ice-cold water on you. To say it takes your breath away is an understatement. On top of which it was all so cheap then.

@Benedick: In Wodehouse’s Wooster stories, dotty uncles were always going off to “take the cure” at Harrogate.

Is the North Shore Animal Leage the descendant of the Bide-A-Wee home that Wodehouse left all his money to? “To which he left his money to,” of course I knows my grammar.

@Prommie: I don’t know. Don’t know much about him. Apart from the unfortunate Nazi thing and that he writed the lyrics to Bill. The Grand Hotel, Harrogate, used to serve delicious cold goose pie of a Sunday. It’s where Agatha Christie went to hide when she went bonkers because Timothy Dalton left her, even though I have it on good authority that he is so boring a date once got out of his car on the way to dinner because she couldn’t face the prospect of a whole evening of it.

@Benedick: He writed the words to Showboat, and lots of others.

“Long Stroke”

It just might be this year’s “Wide Stance”.

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