Rough Trade
Rough Trade
'Rough trade' once signaled a risky encounter with dangerous straight men who were 'gay for pay.' In the almost forty years since Stonewall, 'rough trade' has come to mean everything from S/M to wrestling to violent rough sex. Some of the top male erotica writers have penned their own hot, sexy versions of the term, producing some of the hottest, nastiest, and most dangerous fiction ever published.
Jonathan Asche, Dan Boyle, Bill Brent, Dale Chase, M. Christian, Todd Gregory, Greg Herren, Adam McCabe, Kelly McQuain, Christopher Pierce, Neil Plakcy, Nic P. Ramsies, Max Reynolds, Jay Starre, Cage Thunder, Aaron Travis, Greg Wharton, and Logan Zachary.
Rough Trade
Brought to you by
E-Books from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com
E-Books are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Rough Trade
Edited by
Todd Gregory
2009
Rough Trade
© 2009
By Bold Strokes Books. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN
10: 1-60282-092-9E
ISBN
13: 978-1-60282-092-0E
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
Po Box
249
Valley Falls, New York
12185
First Edition: August
2009
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Todd Gregory
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
- Introduction
- The Fratboy and The Faggot - Aaron Travis
- Daddy’s Boys - Nic P. Ramsies
- Best Little Whorehouse - Jay Starre
- Hiring David - Jonathan Asche
- Close to Home - Adam McCabe
- The New Boy - Cage Thunder
- Giovanni - Logan Zachary
- Sold to the Highest Bidder - Christopher Pierce
- Under the Table - Dale Chase
- Real - Bill Brent
- Frisco - Greg Wharton
- The Hard Way - M. Christian
- Tricked - Jonathan Asche
- Dinner Party - Jay Starre
- Oh, What A Friend I Have in Jesus - Todd Gregory
- Leaving Fresno - Max Reynolds
- Missionary Road - Neil Plakcy
- I Am Not David - Dan Boyle
- Wrestler for Hire - Greg Herren
- Blueboy - Kelly McQuain
- Contributors
Introduction
Danger Ahead
The notion of rough trade predates Stonewall and the gay rights movement. In those days, when gay bars were hidden from public view, deeply closeted men slipped in and out with secret knocks and used code words, dreading the horror of a possible police raid that would destroy their lives. In the almost forty years since the riots that changed the face of being gay in America forever, finding sex with another man has, for most, become incredibly easy. Almost every city of a moderate size has a gay bar, an adult bookstore, or a park where cruising for sex can be accomplished with moderate ease. The Internet and Web sites like gay.com, manhunt.net, and myspace.com, with their almost uncountable chat rooms, have taken most of the danger and fear out of finding sex partners.
Yet the term
rough trade
remains a part of our gay vernacular, even if today most people don’t really understand what it means, or even what it meant. In those days before Stonewall,
trade
meant, basically, a man cruising for sex—a sex partner; as in “I’m looking for trade.” It also designated a certain kind of man; one who was willing to take money in exchange for sexual favors. Some men were willing to let you suck their dick for twenty bucks; hence, you “traded” money for sex. The addition of
rough
to
trade
meant danger of a physical kind rather than just the societal kind of being outed; someone who either liked sex to be rough (what we would call today “S&M”) or would beat up their paying customer after taking the money—sometimes without even the desired, bought and paid for act taking place.
Rough trade
was code—stay away from that one, unless you can explain away bruises, a black eye, and a fat lip.
When I was asked to do this anthology, I was a little hesitant at first. I wasn’t sure what exactly the theme of the book would be, given that
rough trade
is such an amorphous term; it means different things to different people—and some have never even heard the term before. But on second thought, I realized that the very lack of a true definition of the term was a
selling
point. What does rough trade mean to different writers, and what kind of a collection would I wind up with, once I asked people to come up with a story built, simply, around the term? What kind of inspiration would they find from the title of the book? So, I deliberately left the call for submissions vague—and when writers would send an inquiry asking for something a little more clear, my responses were different. “Gay for pay,” I would tell one, while telling another, “sex for hire.”
There are two stories in this book that I specifically asked for the right to reprint: “The Fratboy and the Faggot” by Aaron Travis and “Blueboy” by Kelly McQuain. The Travis story, once you read it, is pretty self-explanatory: I don’t think there is another story anywhere that could possibly typify
rough trade
as well as this one. Kelly’s story I originally read in
Harrington Gay Fiction Quarterly,
and after I finished reading it, it haunted me. I couldn’t forget the story, and when I signed the contract for this anthology, I immediately e-mailed Kelly and asked if I could use it. Thanks to both Aaron and Kelly for graciously allowing me to use their stories.
And so it went; I started getting all of these marvelous stories about sex; some from the perspective of the buyer, some from the seller. Nic P. Ramsies’s “Daddy’s Boys” takes the reader into the world of a lovely young man who needs money, and turns to the oldest profession to make the rent. Max Reynolds shows us the world of the illegal immigrant, working in the fields of the San Joaquin Valley, who learned his trade south of the border from the
gringos
in “Leaving Fresno.” Jonathon Asche tells the tale of a gay couple’s unusual anniversary gift to themselves in “Hiring David”—well, perhaps it’s not
that
unusual, but it’s not listed in the Macy’s registry! (Maybe it should be.)
I could go on and on—but we’re wasting time here. Why are you reading this when you could be reading something making your dick hard?
Turn the page, and enter the world of
Rough Trade.
Todd Gregory
The Fratboy and The Faggot
Aaron Travis
Ted crouches naked on the floor, peering over the window sill, his nose pressed against the rusty wire screen. The window is open—open because the Texas night is hot and humid, and Ted’s little attic apartment has no air-conditioning. Open so that Ted can have a better view into the bedroom next door.
Ted’s nude body is glazed with sweat, sweltering inside and out. Sweat runs down his forehead, drips from his nose. Sweat pours down his hairless chest and back, trickling into his crotch, sliding down the crack of his ass, adding its moisture to the lube that crackles in the quiet stillness as he slowly pumps his cock, rotates his hips around the dildo up his ass—and watches.
The room is dark. Dark so that Larry won’t see him, if Larry happens to look his way. Larry lives in one of the condos next door. On the top floor. Just across from Ted’s attic room in the old student boarding house. Only fifteen feet of empty air separate their bedrooms.
From his window, Ted can see into every room of Larry’s place. Directly into the bedroom; at an angle into the alcove that branches toward the bathroom, where Larry keeps his weights and rowing machine; and if he opens the screen and sticks his head a few inches beyond the sill, he can even see into Larry’s living room and kitchen.
Larry’s condo is air-conditioned, the windows always shut; but Larry likes to leave the blinds open, even at night. Ted has been watching him in secret every day since Larry moved in at the start of spring term. As spring turned to summer and the weather turned hot, and Larry started wearing fewer and fewer clothes around the condo, the watching has become an obsession.
Larry is a god. No other word will do. Perfect face. Perfect body. Perfect cock. In the last few months, Ted has had the opportunity to study every part of Larry’s body in minute detail. Dressing, undressing, watching television. Stepping naked from the shower. Working out with his weights, wearing only a sweatband and a jockstrap. Screwing his girlfriend on his king-size waterbed. And sometimes, like tonight, lying alone and naked in the big waterbed, stroking his big cock while Ted watches him in secret and does the same.
Except that Ted does it with a dildo up his ass, the biggest dildo he could find, imagining that it’s Larry’s cock stuffed inside him.
Larry is perfect. In his mid-twenties, a few years older than Ted. His hair is jet black, slightly curly, cut short; bunched into tight rings when he steps from the shower, losing its kink when he blow-dries it. His face is athletic and handsome, every feature strong and smooth. His eyes are dark and remote, his mouth broad and sensual with a slight twist at the corner of his lips, a hint of cruelty. The kind of face that seems made for a photographer’s lens; there isn’t an angle that doesn’t flatter him.