Varady - Muscular Man for Rent

Myhome town, Debrecen, may be the second largest city in Hungary, after Budapest.But that doesnt tell the whole story. The population of Budapest is nine timesthat of Debrecen. Thats a huge difference. The irony is that the Hungariancountryside is dotted with cities and towns even smaller than Debrecento saynothing of tiny, isolated rural communities. To the residents of these outlyingareas, were the metropolis!

Myfriends often asked me why I didnt move to Budapest, to seek my fortune there.That was the long-term ambition of a lot of young Hungarian men. I wont saythat I wasnt tempted. But it was cheaper to live in Debrecen. And Budapest,after all, was less than three hours away by train. It was easy to travelthere, for a weekend or a holiday. This enabled me to sample life in the bigger,more cosmopolitan city, without committing myself to its higher cost of living,or the competition for housing and jobs.

AmongBudapests undeniable attractions was its active and varied gay scene. Therewere bars, clubs, restaurants, and bathhouseseven hotelswhich catered to thelocal gay population, and to the tourist trade. There were public spaces whicheveryone knew were cruising areas, some more discreet and safe than others. Anda gay man who was willing to pay for sex would have no difficulty finding amale prostitute in Budapest. There were call boys who advertised on theInternet or in gay publications, and hustlers who worked the streets and thegay-friendly bars and other establishments.

Iwasnt exactly a male prostituteor so I flattered myself. After all, I didnthustle full time. I had a real day job, in an office in downtown Debrecen. Inmy spare time, I was a dedicated bodybuilder, who put in long, hard hours downat my gym. I entered physique competitions, and I had begun to acquire acertain reputation in Hungarian bodybuilding circles. Id even competed,successfully, in contests held in Budapest, and in other countries in EasternEurope. At the time of my story, I was the kind of young bodybuilder who waslabeled young and promising or upcoming. (There were times, I have toadmit, when fulfilling the promise still seemed a long way off; and the rest ofthe way up still looked as though it was going to be a long haul.)

Isupplemented my income from my nine-to-five job by working as a part-timeinstructor at my gym, training other members by appointment, one-on-one. I alsoadvertised myself as a masseuryes, that kind of a masseur!operatingout of my apartment. I did some freelancing as a fitness model, posing forphotographers who needed, or wanted, a muscular model. Sometimes I posed withmy shirt off; sometimes I posed in just a bathing suit, gym shorts, or posingtrunksand sometimes I posed in the nude. I had no inhibitions about baring mybody or flexing my muscles, and I was a bit of an exhibitionist. I soon assembledquite a portfolio of photos of myself, many of them extremely revealing andsexually suggestive.

Thenext logical step was turning the occasional trick, to help balance my budgetwhenever I needed some extra money. I saw nothing immoral in it. I had a strongsex drive, and I didnt believe in denying myself pleasure and satisfaction. Icouldnt see any real difference between going out on a weekend night, cruisingthe bars, and going home with a complete stranger, for what could quite possiblybe only a one-night standas opposed to agreeing to have sex with completestrangers, for money. I wasnt bad-looking, if I do say so myself; and, thanksto my rigorous weight training, I had a very good body (thats not immodesty onmy partI am merely stating a fact.) These were assets, which deserved to beexploited. If I was going to be promiscuous, I might as well get paid for it!

Imade a firm rule of not turning more than one trick a night, and not workingmore than two or three nights each week. Anything more would start interferingwith my day jobs, andmore importantlywith my gym schedule. (Of course, therewere times when avarice got the better of me, and then I violated my own rules.)