Service

By Eddie Moreno, San Francisco

Escorting is next to godliness, and hookers are saints. By shaking our moneymakers we bring some heaven to our fellow man. “Do unto others,” they taught me in Sunday school. And I learned a few lessons of my own along the way.

I grew up attending Mass every Sunday as a good Roman Catholic boy with Mexican roots. Now, if you're not familiar with a Catholic Mass, let me tell you there's a lot of movement: kneel, stand, sit, genuflect, shake hands, kneel stand sit. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down: every Sunday for 18 years. The best thing that came out of that is that I got plenty of practice getting onto my knees, and toughened them up at an early age. I admit it’s somewhat different from the eager, open-mouthed kneeling I practice in cruising grounds around the world, but the fact remains that I learned to worship before I could utter a word.

I served as an altar boy. It might be hard to imagine it now - when you see me on my website all naked, tattoed, and boned up for everyone to see - but I used to wear a cute little costume dress over my Sunday slacks and obediently ring bells at appropriate, pre-designated moments. The breaking of the Eucharist was my favorite, I’d jingle jingle jingle those sweet chimes just before partaking in the Body of Christ. I served well, wearing a serious boy look on my face in reverence for God, a bearded Christ, and all those big things.

I used to pray in the pews and on the altar, “O Dear God please don’t let me turn out gay.” I thought it would be the worst thing that could happen.

In spite of the prayers and pleas, Amigo, I turned out gay anyway. I grew up to be one of those guys who has sex in public places: parks and pools, alleys, and even the supermarket. One glorious day (with the help of a horse-hung Italian), I got my rocks off in a London cemetery while families with prams strolled past. I’ll never forget it. In that cherished moment, on hallowed ground, I realized that God had in fact answered my prayers - the ones I’d been sending out below the surface, on a lower frequency, scrambled: “O Dear God make me gay and horny, make it easy to meet men, make me good-looking and hung, make me horny!” I knew that day I’d found my calling, I was destined for better things. There was more to this life than an occasional tumble in the bushes. When I finished fucking, I tore a few leaves from the tree above us, wiped Romeo’s sweet Italian butt cream off my dick, and ran to place my first hooker ad in the local paper.

I learned the ropes from my good mate Marco. Marco was an Italian-American stud á la Vinnie Barbarino who made whoring look easy as breathing. I approached the learning with zeal and found myself one of Marco’s many eager disciples as he spread his good word about a life rich in whoring. My own life took on a whole new shine: I had money to spend, time to waste, and was having lots and lots of sex. Let me tell you, Marco and his disciples lived his philosophy to the fullest on five continents and lots and lots of men have had a lot of fun thanks to his righteous approach to hookering.

I continued on my way, whoring aimlessly until a year or so ago when I met a guy who had me seeing stars. When this gorgeous young pup revealed to me his burning desire to see the world beyond Sydney’s blue harbour, we decided to form a double act to fund the holiday and placed an ad in the local paper.

I never expected to learn something new at this late stage in the game (7 years on), but something happened when we joined forces, and all of a sudden, something brand new came out of nowhere. There was something in Peter’s eager approach that I’d never seen. He liked it! He enjoyed meeting and spending time with the clients, experimenting with the closeness and the sex, lots of eye contact, and lots of little details that were about making it a really nice, reverant experience with our fellow man. Bells started ringing, lights went on in my head!

I’d finally found my happy balance, realized just how much fun escorting could be, if you let it. It was no longer only about the freedom, the money and the travel, with the client being the annoying part of the work - it was now about excelling at what I did, getting into the connection, the opportunity. And it all made sense. And I feel much happier in my life.

I’ve serviced big cocks and little cocks, fucked butts from here to Albuquerque. At times it’s been tough, but these days I feel like I’m still that proud Mexican kid on the altar, serving a greater good, jingling those bells at just the right moments, proud to be a part of the service, partaking in the body, doing unto others, shaking my moneymaker as the Spirit moves me.

Eddie Moreno's writing talents can also be found in Best Gay Erotica 2001 - and many other publications.