Young, pretty and blond, Kevin Kramer wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea but he knew how to use that tanlined ass and wet throat to please a cock, whether onscreen or in person. At the end of his porn career, he made an appearance in a bareback video with a pierced cock, topping. But for the most part, he was the übertwink bottom, with a tendency to tell his tops just what to do with that wet pink boyhole.

I first saw Kevin Kramer in a photospread in Playguy. I’m not usually into blonds but his photos were so hot—those pouty lips, that ASS. I tuned in to Robin Byrd on NY’s cable system as usual to check out what hot stud might be at the Show Palace and realized that the headliner for the week was the same prettyboy blond with the smooth ass I had been jacking off to in Playguy for weeks. The next day I was front and center at his show, stroking my cock.

The next thing I knew he was chatting me up after his show, obviously interested in what he had seen from the stage. Chip Daniels, a previous fuck I had picked up at the Palace, made his entrance and announced that he had wanted to introduce me to Kevin so we could fuck. We were already well on our way to that, no Chip required.

First we went out that night to some bar or other. It was summer and Kevin was wearing shorts and, judging from the tent in front, no underwear. He kissed me goodnight when he got out of the cab at his hotel, the infamous Milford Plaza, aka Mildew Plaza, host to the male and female porn stars working the Show Palace and Show World Center.

The next night he was at my house, naked in my bed. He wanted to take souvenir photos of my cock and sucked me up hard and wet. Seeing him on all fours, that perfect ass in the air and his amazing smooth hole open and waiting was almost more than I could handle. Almost. He was an incredible fuck. And one of the few invited to spend a night with me. He ended up spending several nights.

He announced that he wanted to get fucked at the top of the Statue of Liberty. Rather than try to explain to a tourist how unlikely that would be, I went with him and we climbed all the way to the top, where he discovered that the crown in actually quite claustrophobic and once one arrives at the top of the statue, there is a long line of yokels waiting to peer out of the tiny windows.

We did manage to make out constantly. Kevin was not at all shy about PDA, to the point that a very sweet boy, clearly barely out of the closet, approached us in the subway station, thinking we were a couple, and announced that he wanted to experience gay life, asking where he could go. I sensed that he wasn’t quite ready for the sleaze and sex of Times Square and referred him to the Gay Center, then went back to thrusting my tongue between Kevin Kramer’s juicy lips.

After he returned to LA we had phone sex a few times—never really into that with strangers as a rule, although when it’s someone I have fucked in real life it can be entertaining.

He planned to visit a few months later, specifying all the places he wanted to get fucked, including a box seat at a Broadway show. Much like the Statue of Liberty I think he had an image of the box seat based on movies about Abe Lincoln; the modern box seat is quite exposed to the rest of the audience.

Sadly, the big LA earthquake hit and when his ceiling fell in he decided traveling was not in the cards.

Several years later he was in town stripping at the Stonewall Inn, and I went to see him. He was clearly on something or other and had pierced his cock (not a turn on for me). I didn’t manage to talk to him there but left a message at the phone number he had advertised in H/X’s hooker ad section. He called back, at about 3:30 AM, and wanted to come over. At that point I was asleep and he was clearly high. I have never found boys on drugs to be very effective sex, so I declined and wished him well.

Kevin Kramer had one of the most memorable asses I have ever seen. Completely smooth and framed by tanlined assmounds, and hungry for cock. He was also amazing to sleep with, his legs wrapped around me. He’s incredibly affectionate and at the same time a wild little slut.

The other thing to know about Kevin is that he is a good person. He worked a lot of fundraisers for HIV, and was apparently an active part of the gay community in California. When my friend Matt Gunther ended up in a facility for homeless people with AIDS, not many people cared. Matt told me that Kevin, whom he had never met, came to visit him because I had talked about Matt.

I think life perhaps didn’t work out quite as Kevin expected. He was very focused on being famous, and somewhat deluded about the potential for mainstream success after one has been a gay porn star. Like every porn performer with dreams of Hollywood glory, he cited Tracy Lords, who I think we can agree is an anomaly.

He also fell in with other porn stars with delusions of grandeur. Kevin was a real small town boy with an image of success and glamour that was kind of tragic. In New York, his idea of glamour was the kind of gay bar patronized by tired old queens from the East Side, with potted palms in brass containers, their fur coats checked while they bought drinks for the kind of boys who dreamed of being someone’s trophy.

Seems more recently he has found some kind of happiness, after what seems to have been a real drug problem followed by rehab. He’s still extremely attractive, and hopefully happy. Of the many porn stars I’ve fucked and archived, he’s one who I can truly say was a lovely person, delusional though he may have been about how his life would go.