Cupcakes

Chapter 2: Bottom Boy

Chapter 2: Bottom Boy

Most of the money to build Cupcakes came from Richter’s adult film days in West Hollywood. That’s where we met. I was a copy boy and he an actor. He started in the business at age eighteen and worked as a bottom boy for the next eight years. Of course we were involved for six of those years during that almost-decade, but I didn’t mind his career choice. Most men or husbands would have hit the roof with rage, but I thought it hot as hell, sexy, and not at all a threat to our relationship.

A few things led me to such an opinion. One, I wasn’t jealous of his s****l flings. Two, I didn’t care who was sucking Richter’s c**k or doing his bottom because I knew with the deepest passion of my heart that he loved me. Three, I was the guy he came home to after his performed scenes. Four, he loved me to the fullest, claiming me an understanding saint and the best lover in the world, better than any top he had shared time with in front of a West Hollywood camera. Five, I regarded his s****l antics with other porn stars a total turn on. My bottom boy in our relationship was an aphrodisiac for me. Anytime a chiseled jock, police officer, mechanic, blue collar worker, military dude, daddy, or clergyman nailed his behind in a DVD movie was relentless bliss for me. I’d be a liar to say I didn’t enjoy watching my lover being banged by his well-built coworkers. Richter’s play on film was eye-awakening and d**k-hardening for me, which he was very much aware of, and never judged me for.

So the money for Cupcakes came from the Bottom Boy and his professional d**k-days in California. But the bakery wasn’t all his, even if he paid for it in cash. My name was on the business and I owned fifty percent of its sweets. Whatever belonged to me in our relationship was his, and vice versa. Maybe this is why we were still involved.

One thing about queer porn stars, no matter how old they were or how they used their d***s, viewers never knew what their hobbies were off camera. Some liked NASCAR and others played touch football on Saturday mornings. Some men might have liked coffee, played in a band, or wrote poetry while Richter enjoyed baking. Hence, Cupcakes was born. Richter baked everything he could when he wasn’t in front of the camera. He had a passion for baking: cakes, breads, pies, brownies, tarts, and cupcakes. You named it and he baked it.

And while he baked, I attempted to apply my business degree from UCLA. I knew numbers, tax forms, and how to create a small business. I comprehended supply and demand as if it were elementary addition. I understood a business proposal and attempted many on paper. That is what I did before Cupcakes came to life in Snowden. After my copy boy position in the adult industry, I worked at a small corporation called Business Pros for Life in West Hollywood. Our clients were gay, loaded with the green, and hired me to do start-ups for their individual businesses, which included high-end restaurants, hair salons, queer bars, laundromats, home interiors, and knickknack shops.

Amen to West Hollywood for Richter’s flesh-career and my degree from UCLA. That was the beginning to our own business, and all our happiness. Cupcakes was in the making, and neither of us realized it.