This one belongs in the "stupid fantasies" department. It's a good thing I never did anything like this. Maybe it would've been fun - and maybe I'd be dead. Actually, more likely than either of those two outcomes: Maybe people would've laughed themselves silly.

As noted, I was wild about sex at this time - any sex. That summer was a period of deprivation after mid-June, because Alex was gone. I missed his weenie and his mouth, and I missed him - badly. Nothing could bring Alex back... but the physical aspect could be dealt with, at least. I couldn't figure out how to get other boys interested, though. I got hornier with each passing day. I jacked off more or less daily, often more than once, remembering Alex and me and all that we'd done, and fantasizing about other boys, and girls too. I was fixated on my newly-found ability to ejaculate (dribble) the clear liquid I called "sperm". It was still hit-or miss; sometimes I still shot blanks. But it was fun to experiment: "Gee, wonder if I'll hit 21 today..."

I knew absolutely nothing about anonymous sex, except that prostitutes existed; that they dressed provocatively and hung out in public places; that their customers were male; and that they had alot of sex. I had a hazy idea that there were male prostitutes as well as female, and that they had sex with other males and possibly females.

That summer, after Alex left, I fell into fantasizing that I could become a boy prostitute. I didn't envision having sex with adult men - it was boys my age or older, up to around 16-17 y/o, and also girls or women of any age "if I got lucky". More of the actual fantasy details were about boys, definitely. I had some concrete idea of what sex with boys was like; the girl thing was still pretty abstract to me then.

My fantasies centered around one of the few public locations where I knew I'd find many boys like that - the mall. I began fantasizing about hanging out at the mall to be picked up. I knew I wouldn't charge them anything. I was going to be a free boy-prostitute. I wanted to do it for the fun, and I didn't care (much) about money at that stage in my life anyway. And I thought I'd have a better chance at getting laid if I did it for free.

As the days went on, my fantasy got more detailed. I picked out the mall - the one closest to us. (It wasn't like there was much choice - we had exactly two malls in the city, back then.) I envisioned the exact spot I'd hang out at in the mall: near the Orange Julius, at the main intersection. It never crossed my mind that mall security would kick me out or anything. In the 1970s, as I recall, the term "mall rat" had yet to be invented - kids weren't considered a nuisance in the malls.

I planned very elaborately what I'd wear. I was fairly sure (can't recall from what source) that female prostitutes wore low-cut dresses, miniskirts, see- thru blouses, and stuff like that, to show off their tits and legs and butts. I figured potential clients would get turned on by seeing my butt and my cock and balls. So I planned to wear super-tight shorts and no underwear. I had a specific pair in mind - very short red shorts that I had almost outgrown. With the shorts, I'd wear a tank top, to show off my (haha) muscles.

The crowning glory of this outfit was my boots. I wasn't sure about the other stuff, but I knew prostitutes wore boots. It was like a regulation of the trade, or something. I had one pair of boots other than the winter/snow kind: suede boots. Yep, suede boots (ahh, the 70s...) They came up slightly higher than ankle-length and had a turned-down top with leather fringe around the edges.

Like I said: The great likelihood is that people would've laughed themselves silly...

I tried this outfit on a few times, and looked at myself in the mirror. Of course it gave me a stiffie. At the time, one of my "concerns" was that no boy would pick me up, because I was just going into puberty and my weenie wasn't a big one like they would expect and want. I did get off on seeing myself in the outfit, boots and all(!) It was fun to jack off while looking at myself in the mirror, peeling my shorts off with one hand, imagining it was a 15 y/o surfer boy stripping me, and getting all excited when he found out I was gonna suck his dick for free...

Fortunately, I never got around to trying my fantasy. I would've had trouble even getting to the mall in that outfit, for one thing. And if my mom had actually taken me dressed like that, and if any guy had actually picked me up, there was the little matter of getting to his place or wherever, doing it, and getting back to the mall - all before my mom noticed I was gone. (It never ocurred to me at the time that we could do it in a car...)

The whole mall-idea sort of drifted into the back of my mind after a while. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that fate turned it into reality, minus the mall and the boots. Not long after I formulated my mall plans, I went to a pool party and seduced an older boy, and that was better than the fantasy. In late July, I went off to summer camp, and the mall-kid fantasy got replaced by summer-camp reality, and a few real-life boys I met there. I don't think agressive promiscuity is all that healthy, but I'd say that for an 11 y/o boy, pool party pickups and summer camp sex are considerably less-idiotic than trolling for BJs at the mall.