QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Zuckerman’s Famous Pig

Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
By Steve Prince
Sex had been on my mind all day. You know those days when you just can’t stop thinking about it? Early that day as I sat in a work meeting, I couldn’t help but think of someone’s strong hands sliding down my back as we kissed, or the touch of a man’s cock against my own, or the scrap of someone’s teeth against my bottom lip. I actually started to get hard in the meeting.
Even on my lunch break I couldn’t get sex off my brain. As I sat at an outside table, a toddler ran up to me and waived innocently.
I grinned and waved back. “Hey cutie,” I said sweetly as I looked down at him.
“Oh sorry,” said the father’s voice causing me to raise my head. If I ever had a type, it would have been this guy. He wore a soft yellow polo shirt that hung on his slim frame, his chino pants looked clean and fresh, and his brown eyes glistened in the midday sun as he smiled. Yum.
“Oh,” I said shutting my dropped jaw. “No worries. He’s adorable by the way.”
“Thanks,” he replied taking his small son’s hand in his own. “Come on, Conner.”
Okay, let’s take a moment. Men are hot, but few things are hotter than a hot dad. Seriously. Yes, I know a lot of you don’t want children, but I would totally get knocked up right now if I could. Seriously.
As the man walked away with his child in his arms, I couldn’t help but imagine what kind of husband he was to his family. What kind of husband would he be to me? I began to imagine what it would be like for us to make a baby. (Yes, I know this isn’t possible but it’s my fantasy, dammit.) I imagined cooking him the best steak he’d ever had, then we’d have a glass of wine and sit by our fire. Next, he’d pick me up (yes again, fantasy—in reality he’d probably drop me), and he’d carry me into the bedroom. Soon his rock hard cock would be sliding inside and he’d plant his seed in my womb and nine months later… Junior arrives! I know, I watched too much Donna Reed on Nick-at-Nite as a kid. And yes I know I’m not a woman, but this is my fantasy. Oh God, I want a baby! All right… back to the story at hand.
So needless to say—I was very horny. Sex had been on my mind all day. As I got home, I felt so grateful that Friday evening loomed just minutes away; I planned to relish the weekend and get my mind off sex. You know what?, I thought to myself, I’m going to have a glass of wine, catch up on some reading and get some schoolwork done. THAT’S what I’ll do! Yes THAT’S what I’ll DO!
Ten minutes later I found myself in front of my computer screen, watching Leo Giomani get his cocked sucked by David Taylor. My pants lay on the floor and a bottle of Gun Oil sat on my side table.
Have you ever had that feeling that jacking off isn’t going to cut it? As I lay on my bed, with my dick in my hand I looked at lovely Leo in ecstasy and I realized… this ain’t gonna cut it.

Another ten minutes later I found myself chatting with “STV1967” on Gay.com.
Yes, I was on Gay.com and I’m proud to admit it. Gay.com has served me well in my history of hooking up. When I lived in Oklahoma for a year, Gay.com provided me so many, many hookups with so many, many men. Truthfully, it probably wasn’t the best idea to be hooking up so much back then. In reality, I was depressed and lonely and I just wanted a connection more than anything. Instead I chose to fuck my emotions out in hopes I wouldn’t have to feel them. Yeah, not the best thing in hindsight, but, honestly, I would have found guys to hook up with either at bars or who knows where. Gay.com merely provided the means.
When I first moved to Los Angeles, I found that I didn’t hook up online hardly at all. But there were times. It’d been years since I’d been on the site. My current conversation with STV1967 went according to the normal hookup procedures. Our chat began with the “How’s it going” followed by the typical “Fine, just hanging” responses. We shared names; his was Steve as well. Next, he divulged that he was “looking,” and soon we were comparing sexual positions, cock sizes, and favorite moments from Judy Garland’s made-for-television movie starring Judy Davis titled, Judy Garland: Me and My Shadows. Y’know, the normal protocol for gay hooking up. Then the conversation veered into uncharted Gay.com waters.
“We’ve met before, right?” he asked.
“Nope,” I typed.
“Are you sure?”
“I never forget a face,” I said confidently. It’s true; I’m terrible with names, but I’m good with faces.
“Okay cool,” he said. “Well, I’m going to jump in the shower. See ya in thirty minutes?”
“Yep,” I said, “See ya in a bit, Steve.”
I snapped my laptop closed. Did I know this guy? I didn’t recognize his profile. Also his name was Steve—I think I’d remember someone with the same name.
I went into my bathroom to brush my teeth. Butterflies danced wildly in the pit of my stomach. I needed this. It’d been a while since I’d experienced some good fucking. Every time I hook up, I always overanalyze why I’m doing it. Hey, it’s my job to think that way; a good counselor should question everything. Oddly enough, the more I questioned my motives, the more I realized I really just wanted to have sex. And not even butt sex; I was totally fine with oral.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived at Steve’s apartment in Beverly Hills. I looked at the address on the piece of paper. Yep, 572 Camden—this was it. I parked my car and got out.
On the sidewalk, a fit man with dirty blonde hair stood smiling.
“Hey Steve,” he said confidently.
“Hey… Steve,” I replied sarcastically. He smiled with me.
“My apartment is just down here,” he said as he began to walk. “Did you find the place okay?”
“Yeah,” I nodded trotting up beside him, “nice area.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I like it.”
We reached the front door, he opened it and I entered.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked.
Five minutes later, we both sat chit-chatting and sipping our pinot noir. I felt very comfortable with Steve; he seemed like a nice guy.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he said rising, “help yourself to some more wine if you’d like.”
As he walked away, my eyes followed his wake and focused on his ass; he had a really hot ass. As he walked out of site, my gaze fell on the beautiful curtains that hung in the corner. They were this fun chocolate brown color with these odd, intricate turquoise blue rectangles; they looked very modern and chic.
And then I gasped. Well, shit the bed.
I realized I had been here before. Steve and I had fucked almost four years ago—I didn’t realize it until I saw the curtains; suddenly I remembered that I had admired them then. In that moment, I chuckled.
Yes, gentleman, I was experiencing one of the gayest moments of my life.
As I sat there, chuckling in my head, I realized I still couldn’t remember actually having sex with Steve. I just remember those damn curtains. As he walked back into the room, I decided not to mention that we had met before. I smiled at him. He was so cute.
He smiled back and as if to read my thoughts he answered, “Damn, you’re cute.” He leaned in and kissed me. Oh god, he’s a good kisser—y’all know what happens when a guy is a good kisser.
After fifteen minutes of hard-core high school making out on the couch, Steve led me into the bedroom. He started to undress and I followed suit.
He sat me on the bed and lowered to his knees and inhaled me. Minutes later, we both writhed on the bed like two worms tangled on a fisherman’s hook. This man was good at what he was doing.
Everything was going according to plan; we were both just sucking one another off. And then something happened.
Steve rolled me over and took me to Rimtown.
Let’s take another moment. Rimming is an art, and honestly, I haven’t met many men who could do it. Oh, but when you find that guy who knows how to do it… all bets are off. This man knew what he was doing. It felt amazing. I can’t even describe it, but I’ll try. Let’s just say Steve spread my ass like a Grands buttermilk biscuit and rimmed me like a mother-fuckin’ Tootsie Pop.
I would like to say that I kept my self-control. I would like to say that I remained classy and true to our original commitment of oral sex. I would like to tell you these things, but I can’t.
Within five minutes of Steve rimming me, I begged him to fuck me like a twelve-year-old boy at a Catholic school begs the Mother Superior not to beat the shit out of him for staring at Shelly Lee’s tits.
Thankfully, he had condoms and he willingly obliged. I’ll spare you the details (a boy has to keep some secrets), but we fucked for forty-five minutes. On my back, my stomach, my side, my palms… I mean I felt like an acrobat from Circus O’Gay.
Panting, Steve began to slow, “I know… this… sounds silly,” he said catching his breath, “but I worked out my legs today and I’m sore as hell, but I don’t want to stop fucking you.”
Without a word I grabbed him, threw him on the bed, and sat on his dick like a Sit-n-Spin. He loved it. As I bobbed up and down, he writhed and moaned.
“Ah, fuck man,” he moaned, “you’re so good.”
I smiled. He’s right. I’m not good at a long of things, but when it comes to slutty sex—I’m a professional.
Then he looked at me and grinned.
“You like that?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You like that you bottom boy,” he kept on, “you like that you lil’ Pig Bottom?”
WHAT? I giggled. Yes, I actually giggled. I had never been called that before. Pig Bottom? I’m not a pig bottom. I’m totally vers. Pig bottoms are people who are all into leather and cum and fisting; things that I’m not into at all.
He said it again, “I love fucking your tight Pig Bottom ass.”
Memory is a bitch. Because as this man is fucking me and talking dirty, suddenly all I could think about was the movie Charlotte’s Web. Like a jukebox, Steve’s use of the word “pig” had triggered a song from the movie in my brain:
Oh, wow, look at him now
Zuckerman’s famous pig
Sooey, whaddya see?
The greatest hog in history!
I couldn’t make it stop; the music kept running through my brain. I could actually hear the trombones blaring as I imagined little Wilbur trotting to the music. I tried to bob up and down harder but this egged Steve on more.
“Oh yeah,” he grunted, “My little pig bottom loves it.”
I giggled again and I was so shocked I didn’t notice he was stroking my cock. He kept on and on, continuously calling me some type of Pig Bottom. This was totally not me, was it? This was demeaning. I am not a pig bottom. That is not the type of person I am. Not that there is anything wrong with pig bottoms, but it was totally not me. I am not a pig bott—
Suddenly a sea of endorphins came rushing up my stomach. I didn’t realize that I was so turned on that I was about to cum.
Oh my god… I’m a Pig Bottom and I think I like it.
Five minutes later, we both laid on his bed beside one another, naked and covered in cum.
He looked at me and he kissed me tenderly and then falls back onto his pillow with an exhausted sigh.
“Well,” Steve says, “that was unexpected.”
I chuckle. “You can say that again.”
He smiled, “What are you thinking?”
I don’t remember what I actually told him, but I know it was a lie. Honestly there was only one thing I was thinking. Correction one song that was playing over and over in my head…
Oh, wow, look at him now
Zuckerman’s famous pig
Suey, whaddya see?
The greatest hog in history!
Fine, swine, wish he was mine
What if he’s not so big?
The terrific, radiant, humble
Zuckerman
Zuckerman
Zuckerman
Zuckerman
Zuckerman’s
Zuckerman’s famous pig!
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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
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room