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The following stories claim to be the autobiography of Nicky, a boy model in the 1960s. The reader will have to decide whether they are fiction or autobiography. In some places, Nicky wrote about real people and real places, almost all of whom (by 2021) are either dead or in hiding. He narrates events and actions which were illegal then and are illegal now, and if you do not wish to read about sex between men and boys, you should stop now–especially if your place of residence has laws against reading such material. None of this material is intended to encourage anyone to break any laws anywhere. You have been warned.

If you enjoy this, you may contact the author at ail The full series of Nicky”s life has already been written, and will continue to be posted.

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Nicky writes:

_______________________________________________________

11. The Richards Models and Becoming Nicky

In 1966-1967 I was in 8th grade. That”s when I began to become “Nicky,” but not until I started as a boy for Richard Models. My uncle Ted suggested this name, but I liked it immediately because I associated it with Nick Carraway from Fitzgerald”s The Great Gatsby. (I told you even by the tender of age thirteen, I was a reader!) I liked Nick Carraway, who often saw things as they were, and the craziness, and in retrospect I like Nick more, for his unreliability, periodic honesty, and the sense that he was moving towards the love of boys and men.

Grosse Pointe schools at that time gave two weeks off for Spring Break, so the children of well-off families (like mine) could go to Florida. (In March and April in Michigan, who does not want to go to Florida?) I had been to Florida with my mother and other relatives before, but not regularly. Or for long. Uncle Ted said that he had friends in Miami, and that we would visit them during Spring break 1967. I was thirteen, and I would turn fourteen that summer. By this time I knew that his “friends” usually meant “men who would want to photograph me and have some kind of sex afterwards.” So we flew first class and direct Detroit to Miami.

At first I was not prepared for how warm Miami was after winter in Michigan. We checked into a hotel in Miami Beach, right on the ocean, and were more then ten floors up with a small very private balcony overlooking the beach. It was great –immediately I stripped completely and felt at home again, nude in warm weather. Uncle Ted invited a friend to visit us for dinner in our room, whom he called Dr. Thompson. Dr. Thompson had a very spacious apartment in an old house in the Coral Gables or Cocoanut Grove area of Miami, as well as a house quite a ways north in Titusville, between Orlando and Cape Canaveral. He was younger than other men (like Guy Strait), and seemed wealthy, well-connected, smooth, and very charming. It was obvious thata he liked my body a lot; he could not stop touching me, with predictable results (erection). Of course we did not have sex in front of Ted, just a little kissing. I never had any real sex with “Doc” as his boys called him; he preferred to touch and watch, and I touched his erection during or after photographic sessions, but so much that he ejaculated.

Digression: Dr. Richard C. Thompson (Ph.D. psychologist, not medical) was not a psychologist, not a Ph.D., and not Richard escort ankara Thompson. His real name was Allen Andrew Parsons. He had a story mostly unknown either to Uncle Ted (ever), or to me until a couple of years ago.

Allen Andrew Parsons was born in 1938 and may have been an adopted child. Later it was claimed in the newspaper that he was from one of the finest families in Fort Lauderdale (with no substantiation); elsewhere his mother is identified as Ruth Parsons of 1st Avenue (Ft. Lauderdale). Ruth was a registered nurse, a founding member of First Baptist Church there, and operated a “Parsons Nursery for Children” in her home for fifteen years from the late 1920s (and during Andrew”s childhood). Andrew was a champion debater and orator at Fort Lauderdale High School, and was the first teenager ever to address the Florida state legislature in Tallahassee on August 3, 1955.

Allen began to study at Stetson University in 1954 on a full scholarship, where he was also a champion debater, and elected president of the Debate Club in his freshman year. (Debate Clubs used to be much bigger deals than they are now) He wrote for the Fort Lauderdale News, covering Stetson and University of Miami. He already showed signs of simply ignoring rules, and was arrested for a day in 1956 for racking up twenty-six unpaid parking tickets.

There is no record of Allen Andrew Parson graduating from Stetson, but he may have done so insofar as his mother Ruth Parsons is announced as “back in town” in Augusts 1958 after living for a year in Washington D.C. “where he son Allen is a law student at Georgetown University.” Ruth was on leave from Broward County Hospital for “special training” at Georgetown University Hospital 1955-1958, so indeed Allen may have been studying law or pre-law at Georgetown. In any case he returned to Fort Lauderdale with her and two other nurses.

Parsons was a deputy Sheriff in Broward County for two months in 1960, supposedly in a secret intelligence squad, but was arrested for producing and distributing pornography and sent to state prison for two and a half years in 1961. (“Producing” probably meant that he had a darkroom and was turning out photographs.) During that time he was charged with draft evasion, but his sentence was reduced and he was sentenced to probation for five years on the federal charge. He was charged again with a “crime against nature” (that is, homosexual contact) in 1964 but found innocent, and may have written a letter to the editor of the Orlando Evening Star in March 1967. Then “Allen Andrew Parsons” seems to disappear.

Richard C. Thompson suddenly emerges in 1970-1971 as chair of a Brevard County volunteers group for voter registration in Titusville, Florida, and then as local chair for the John V. Lindsay (Republican) presidential campaign. His continuing troubles mounted in 1972: he was charged with violating a state law regarding convicted felons and registering others to vote on behalf of the Democratic party, but then the case was thrown out because there was no law about registering to vote, only about actually voting (which apparently he had not done).

His case attracted the attention of the IRS which had been monitoring Thompson on tax evasion arising from his pornography business, called variously Richard Models, Richard Models Exclusive, RMX, and Richard Morgan. Brevard County was duly shocked when magazines, films, photographs, and negatives were discovered and later destroyed by the Titusville police. Through all this Thompson edited a Titusville weekly sharply criticizing the police and local elected officials.

Parsons was sentenced to about a year in Federal prison for tax evasion, and walked out of El Reno, Oklahoma in 1978 after serving ten months. Photographs of several models were subsequently published in In Touch for Men 1981-1983 with the byline of Richard Model Exclusives, all of which have esenyurt escort hair styles and early 1980s clothes, so they could not have been simply reprocessed from earlier photographs (but may have been pirated from someone else). After that Parsons/Thompson by any name disappears. A police officer in Titusville claimed in 1980 that Parsons/Thompson had 166 documented alias, which seems excessive, and he offered no other names or aliases.

In 2019 Graham Brunk published an article in South Florida Gay News (Vol. 10, No. 29, July 17, 2019), “Will the Real Allen Parsons Please Stand Up?” This article includes information above, with a few other notes–so Parsons” reputation by now has undoubtedly exceeded his lifespan. (If alive, he”s now 83, and all legal charges are well past statutes of limitations.). I”m not sure if Graham ever spoke to any of Allen”s boys–and I”m not sure I”m volunteering, either.

Back to 1966: In his house and circle of boys in Titusville, “Doc” claimed to be a psychologist, to have a Ph.D. from Georgetown, and to have worked in government intelligence. He certainly had the ability to dazzle and the gift of bullshit, and was charming enough that people (in particular men) wanted to believe him.

“Doc” charmed Ted, who was wary, and somehow evaded Ted”s better judgement. By 1967 Ted was realizing that photographs of me were going to get published somewhere eventually, so he cooperated with Doc”s desire to photograph me so that Ted could exercise a little control (or so he thought). Little did Ted (or, probably, Doc) understand that the photographs would be distributed through organizations in Long Island (Overstock Books, for example) that were thought to have been controlled by the Mafia.

All these “adult stuff” aside, finally I could get photographed the same as any other boy at the Lyric House. So I became Nicky. Nicky is still famous!

Doc was a very sexual photographer. He always wore loose clothing, so it was apparent when he had an erection, and he liked me to touch it. He touched me often, and since restrictions were dropped thanks to legal cases, he could shoot and publish photographs of me with an erection.

This change in postal standards so that photographs could be sent showing boys with erection was a welcome change for me, because I was hard so often. In other photographs, when my back is turned to the camera, or some other oblique angle is involved, or the photo has been carefully cropped, the reason was to conceal my full hard on. Rather than have real sex with his boys, he liked to watch. “Doc” often paired me up with some of his favorite older boys: John Schriver, Don, Wayne, and Fred Ferguson.

The RMX house in Titusville was quite different from the Lyric House. Doc did not have Billy Byars” expensive tastes: the place had a run-down feel but on the other hand was good enough for the boys who had other things they wanted to do. “Doc” took us (nude in his car!) to remote locations for photographs, that included canals, old junked cars, and decrepit buildings, or to cheap motels. Meals were much less organized than in Hollywood, but like the Lyric house, boys slept wherever they found a place for the night, usually together or with a man, or both. I remember fondly making sleepy love with Fred Ferguson, and falling asleep in his embrace with his cock inside me.

Those motels were the same motels in which we met the men who contacted Doc for sex with boys. Ted saw to it that I was only paired with appropriate men, and several were engineers and other scientist-administrators at NASA (a big deal in South Florida in the late 1960s). When in Florida, I rented out two or three times a week (much more than in Hollywood), usually to men who wanted to continue to fuck me.

I”m not sure where Doc found all his boys–some actually wrote to him, sending photographs, eskişehir escort and asked if they could show up in Florida. On of these was Geary, whom I would meet later at Deerfield (but never met at the RMX house). Some of Doc”s boys were rough, and I was reasonably cautious with them. Bruce was another twink boy, a bottom like me, who often posed with me by the pool in Miami. Doc liked twinks, because we were easy to rent out.

Several of the boys were essentially professional whores, but young ones. A couple were Cuban, probably thrown out by their families, who were meeting servicemen for regular servicing.

Of of the boys, a big boy named Bobby with a big cock, later became Jim Powers for other photographers (such as Calafran, I believe), also known as Ivan Mars. I think he figured out that “Doc” was a fake, but rather than say anything just moved on. He was one of my favorites because of his big cock. Tommy was another blonde kid with a big cock, typically young, dumb, and full of cum. Some of the boys became active with the photography, such as Don. Of the nicest I met was Wayne Parker, a gentle top who was probably 17 when I was 14, and who was in my first photoshoot outside –in which I am often turned slightly away from the camera, or arm or Wayne”s arm is in just the right place to conceal my hard-on. It was easy to get Wayne hard, too. A legendary boy was Donny, who had a slight build but a long flaccid cock that was truly impressive when hard (not so much longer, just more assertive).

From 1968 “Doc” was much freer about taking photos of us (his boys) with erections, and these became very popular. I was actually on the cover of one of his magazines in a cheap motel room outside of Titusville, on the floor with my legs open and a full erection. I was often fucked in that very motel room, too. Since the boys often had erections at Doc”s houses, this meant that his “casual” photography was of better and better quality. And it advertised our availability, which is what he wanted.

Amazing as it may now sound, a number of boys were there with uncles or fathers, who were also sexually active with their sons or nephews as well as other boys. I remember a mother of one of the boys came to visit once; we all stayed nude, as did her son. “Doc” would have female friends over, and we stayed nude for them, even performed for them. I watched a number of brothers or cousins have sex, and in general the mood was fun with lots and lots of sex. If I were going to be rented by a man who wanted to see me cum, I would try not to cum earlier that day. I always had plenty, anyway.

I spent time at the RMX house or Doc”s house (large apartment) in Coconut Grove in 1967, and more in 1968-1970 after I had aged out of Camp Flying Cloud. Ted and I traveled to Europe in those summers, too, so I was a familiar face at Doc”s house, but not an all-summer or other long-term regular. It was strange and wonderful to see photographs developed from the darkroom, and then later to see them published. In a sense, I became another boy in print.

After my photographs were published, I was occasionally recognized. A couple of men in Grosse Pointe, and one boy in Grosse Pointe High School did recognize me, but kept quiet about it. (I know this because they asked me point-blank if I was Nicky, and I said yes.)

I remember several times when men saw me, and I could see in their faces the question, “I know I have seen him . . . who is he?” I began to notice when men noticed me –the kind of men who can see when a boy has been sexualized, who will respond to their looks. Sometimes I teased them by just gently adjusting my crotch, or even bringing out my cock if the situation was safe.

Ted was both happy and unhappy with the photographs, and I”m not sure if he ever revealed any of them to my mother–I certainly did not, but neither did she ever ask.

I was at Doc”s house the last time in June 1970, and spent more of the summer at the Lyric house and with Ted in Denmark. I am glad I was not there to witness Doc”s crackup, beginning in 1970, and I honestly thought he was who he claimed to be until I read about him leaving Federal prison in 1977. I do wonder what became of him, and of the boys I knew.

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