QueerClick

Leo the Lamb
By Steve Prince

"To tonight!"

After clinking our glasses in unison, I sipped my gin and tonic greedily. What can I say? Momma loves a free drink and my editor was buying. Yes, we were having a "business" dinner, but let's be honest, getting together with my QueerClick colleagues always ends up more like a party.

As our conversation paused for more drinks, I surveyed the restaurant; probably the nicest restaurant I had ever eaten in. We dined at the Gordon Ramsey restaurant in West Hollywood's posh hotel, The London. Seriously, it had things on the menu I'd never heard of, but I ate them anyway and they were delicious. Once we got our food, I came to the part of the conversation I'd been waiting for.

"So, any good gossip?" I asked the table.

There was a hesitant pause.

"Well," said Red Monkey in a loud stage whisper.

"Boys," interrupted Editor A, always in charge, "would you want someone else sitting around gossiping about you?" He asked with a wry smile.

"No no no," interrupted Dave, "that's different."

"Yeah," I interrupted, "I'm not fisting some guy tied up in leather and ropes for all to see. That's putting yourself out there for gossip."

I'm a terrible gossip, I'll admit. In middle school, the school newspaper ran a superlative contest. Y'know, where classmates vote for the most popular or most talented student... I got voted Biggest Gossip. I didn't get the nickname "The Mouth of the South" by chance, although now that nickname applies in other ways.

"You guys are totally unprofessional," Editor A said smiling and sipping his iced tea. He loved it to but wouldn't admit it. Finally, Editor A caved a little and let us gossip a little bit about some of the new drama in the gay porn world—I'd share, but sorry, I'm sworn to QC secrecy.

This happens every time the QC staff gets together. We gossip about porn actors like twelve-year-old girls. Why? Because we love porn. We do. We love the spectacle, the drama, the story, the dicks, the chests, and used condoms, all of it. Basically we're like Trekkies but we don't queen out over sci-fi. So I guess that makes us Pornies? Bottom line... we're big fans.

So being the Pornies we are, it's no wonder we were all so excited. Tonight, was the Cybersocket Awards! The Cybersocket Awards honor the best of the best in online gay adult fun. This year, QueerClick was nominated for Best Blog. We didn't know if we'd win. I mean, we love QC, but we were up against some big competitors. It was my first award ceremony and I felt a bit nervous—I kept the drinks coming.

Finally around ten o'clock, we made our way into West Hollywood and entered the club where the festivities were being held. We got there just in time; Chi Chi LaRue was already screaming into the microphone, welcoming everyone to the festivities. I have to say, that bitch was funny, a truly great Mistress of Ceremonies.

As we shuffled our way through the group, Red Monkey turned to me.

"Oh my gawd!" he said with a squeal, "it's Spencer from Fratmen!"

I turned. Shit the bed, it was Spencer from Fratmen, chatting with some pretty girl and smiling nicely. That bitch; I wanted to be her. His chestnut hair fell lightly on his forehead. I closed my eyes, remembering what he looked like stroking himself. I opened my eyes and smiled... it was going to be good night.

Chi Chi's raspy voice interrupted my Spencer fantasy.

"Our first award of the night is Best Blog," she called out.

We all looked at one another.

"This early?" Dave asked the group.

"Well," Editor A said, "at least we can enjoy the rest of the night no matter what happens."

After announcing the nominees, Chi Chi said, "And the winner is... QUEERCLICK!"

Remember when Halle Berry won an Oscar and she sobbed like a newborn baby just slapped on the ass? Well, we didn't do that. Instead, every single one of our mouths dropped open. We were shocked. I felt grateful that I wasn't accepting the award, because I would have had no idea what to say.

As Editor A accepted the award, Red Monkey and I clapped, and Dave snapped pictures. I couldn't help but notice Johnny Hazzard giving out the trophies. Now I knew it was official. Johnny Hazzard's hot—y'all know how I love a boy with tattoos. Yeah, he was little shorter than I normally like, but, goodness, he had the cutest "aww-shucks" grin you ever did see. At one point, he took off his over shirt, showcasing a wife beater tank top underneath. I wanted to rim him like a taco.

Minutes later, we all surrounded the award, hugging one another while taking turns holding the trophy. I felt inspired, confident, and a little drunk. With my inhibitions lightened and a Cybersocket Award for the QC team under my belt, Momma was ready to mingle.

I decided to go over to the bar and get a drink. I sauntered up and ordered another Gin and Tonic. Then, I felt someone brush the left side of my arm. I turned.

IT WAS LEO GIAMANI! IT WAS LEO GIAMANI! IT WAS LEO GIAMANI!
IT WAS LEO GIAMANI! IT WAS LEO GIAMANI! IT WAS LEO GIAMANI!

IT WAS LEO MOTHER-FUCKIN', SICILIAN-STUDLY,NINE-INCH-PAKCIN', POUTY-LIPPED GIAMANI.

I guess you could say I queened the fuck out, well, at least on the inside. On the outside, I kept it cool. The only way you could tell I was freaking out was to look at my eyes which were so wide I looked like Norma Desmond at the end of Sunset Boulevard. And then something happened. Maybe it was God, Buddha, or the gin, but something took control of me and I proceeded to "fan" Leo Giamani.

I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," I said. He turned and smiled. He had a genuine smile and I couldn't help but to be taken aback by his beauty. "I just have to say, I fuckin' love you!"

Now he grinned and held out his hand, "Thanks. I'm Leo." His accent was so thick you could use it as pizza sauce.

"Hi," I said extending my hand, " I'm Steve Prince. I write for QueerClick."

And then the weirdest thing happened, a look of recognition dawned on Leo Giamani's beautiful face.

"Oh yeah," he said, "I read your site."

WHAT?!! Leo Giamani knows me? Leo Giamani knows QueerClick. OH MY GAWD!

"Well," I said, encouraged, "then you know how much I love that huge redwood of yours." On this last part I pointed to his crotch. Yeah, I did.

"Hey, what can I say?" he replied with a chuckle, "I guess I'm blessed with good Sicilian genes."

Soon Leo and I were chatting about some of the comments he'd read on the site, especially about his recent foray into barebacking.

"You know," he said seriously, "I responded to some of those remarks, because I want people to know I take my career and my safety seriously. I get tested regularly and I make sure my scene partner has been tested too. It bugs me when people rag on me like that. I want the fans to be happy with what they see."

I was shocked. Leo Giamani really cared about what other people said about him, though not in a needy, pathetic way. As he spoke, it felt like speaking with a chef expressing his desire to please his customers.

"I work hard for them," Leo continued, "I'm in the gym all the time. I'm trying to lose a little bit of weight. No carbs. No sugars. I want to do the best I can."

Well, shit the bed. I think my inner fat girl just cummed her wet donut pussy; Leo Giamani just said he wanted to lose weight. I'm gonna be honest—I thought Leo just woke up pretty one day. Seriously, when you're in my situation where it takes an act of God just to shed one pound, you believe that gorgeous people are just born that way. But no! Leo Giamani just said he doesn't eat sugar, or carbs. Just like me! Er, well... just like I should. Suddenly the man that I'd jacked off to many many many many times before was more than just a donkey-dicked stud; Leo Giamani became a donkey-dicked stud with a heart and I loved him. I still do.

Not wanting to fan Leo too much, I let him drift into the sea of cocktails bobbing up and down to the music.

"Can you believe that?" I squealed turning to Dave.

"I know," he said, "all those Randy Blue boys are so hot. In fact, there's Randy over there." He pointed.

You bet your sweet self I sure did march my white ass up to Randy Blue and introduce myself.

"Hi Randy," I said, my hand extended, "I'm Steve Prince with QueerClick."

Randy Blue and I were meant to friends. A) We both LOVE porn. B) We both live in Los Angeles, and C) We're both from Oklahoma. In fact, he grew up about forty minutes from my house. The man personified congeniality. I mean, come on, he's Randy Blue. He could get away with being the biggest asshole in the world who'd rather do nothing than jack off in a mirror and tell himself how great he is. Thankfully, this wasn't the case. Not only did he talk with me for a while, but he soon introduced Dave and me to "the guys."

Before long, I was talking to Gavin, who I must say is the cutest lil' twink you ever did meet. His eyes are as clear as the water in Hawaii and his lips... oh his lips! I just wanted to bite them right there. His pictures on Randy Blue are cute, but I gotta say he's much prettier in person. And again, such a sweetheart. We both talked for ten minutes, just like normal people. As I looked out, I could see Red Monkey and Aaron talking to Reese Rideout—both of them drooling. I bet if I'd handed them a bottle of lube, they'd have beat off right there and humped his leg like a beagle.

The group of us walked up the stairs and I felt myself bump into someone. I looked up and Cody Cummings stared me in the face. The boy's pretty; I'll give him that. He stood sipping a beer with a small group around him, literally looking like he'd just walked out of a UCLA frat house. I know he's not for everyone, but his look is so All-American and I just think he's a hunk.

Again, I introduced myself.

"Oh, I know QueerClick," he said. "You're the site that's always dogging me." This last part he said with a smile almost as if joking; yet I heard a hint of truth.

"Sugar," I said, (yes, I called Cody Cummings "sugar"), "I never dogged on you. Now my readers might have, but that's their opinion."

Truthfully, I wanted to say, "if you'd just take it up the ass and get it over with, you'd have so many fans beating off to you that it'd create enough electricity to power a small island for a week." Instead I just smiled. Like Leo, it struck me that Cody Cummings actually read the site. I walked away; he looked busy and honestly I wanted to look for Leo again.

There's not enough room for me to write the experience I had with all my QC colleagues that night. It may seem silly, but I forget that porn stars are people too. Seriously. Whenever I watch someone get pounded, I don't often find myself thinking, "Hmmm, what did he eat for lunch?" I've watched Leo's videos since the award and they seemed more intimate and realistic. I think that's especially true with Leo, because when I met him, he was so gracious and genuine. It was nice. He didn't have to be that way... he's a porn megastar; instead he chose to be nice.

Finally at 12:30, Editor A began to yawn. He was right; it was time. We all had early mornings to report. All work and little play for an award-winning blog team! As we walked out of the club, our group sauntered lazily up the hill to our cars like a gentle breeze blowing over the Hollywood hills. We were already laughing about our night, still in awe from some of the people we'd met. Always the porn fans.

Red Monkey sighed dreamily, "I love my job."

The rest of smiled and responded, "Me too." We laughed at our unanimous reply and kept walking, blending into the mists of the early West Hollywood morning.

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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he's a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.

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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin', & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin' Copies
Bullets and Bracelets... and Lube
To Tell The Truth...
Stars Aren't Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool