Justin Morrit, the Guy Who Shared Rob Lowe

Have you seen the famous Rob Lowe sex tape?  It depicts then-Brat Pack star Rob Lowe and a friend having sex with two women in a hotel room in Atlanta in 1988, on the night before the Democratic National Convention.

Only one of the women appears on the tape, plus Rob Lowe and his friend.

I didn't know that heterosexuals had the West Hollywood custom of "sharing."

They don't do anything specifically with each other, but one assumes that they did off-cameras.

Unfortunately, the tape doesn't show much of the second guy other than a muscular silhouette.  This is a better picture.

Not a bad boyfriend candidate.  I can see why Rob invited him to Atlanta.







His name is Justin Moritt.  He doesn't have any credits on IMDB before 1988, so I don't know how he and Rob met.  Since then he's worked as a production assistant, then a production manager, and finally a producer, of films like Ghost (1990), Glengarry Glen Ross (1992), and Die Hard: With a Vengeance (1995).

 He was married to actress Krista Allen from 1996 to 1999.

They have a son, Jake Moritt, born in 1997, now working as a production assistant.

According to his Facebook page, Justin likes Tim Allen, Radiohead, bodybuilder Casa Wilson, and the Marani Hair Salon in L.A.

When you search Google Images for "Justin Morrit," this picture pops up of a tall guy with a tattooed nipple and his pants falling off.  Obviously not our Justin Morrit, but maybe a relation.

And some pictures from one of Rob Lowe's many on-screen homoerotic relationships, this one with Doug Savant in Masquerade (1988).

Is this what was going on in the hotel room in Atlanta that night?

See also: Mario's Date with Rob Lowe

Three Nights with Troy and His Boyfriend: Boomer's Version

Upstate, July 2017

Every year I go back to Upstate New York. I didn't actually like my four years there -- too remote, too isolated, too rustic.  But I liked my Troy, the SUNY French major who was my boyfriend for 3 to 5 years (depending on how you calculate).

Troy has a new boyfriend, Charles, a 49-year old ex-Marine who runs the sanitation system of the city of Canajoharie: rather lucrative, since they have a very nice house there plus a cabin on a lake near Cooperstown.

I hadn't met Charles before this trip, but I saw some photos: round face, hairy chest, thick biceps, square workman's hands, an uncut Kielbasa.

"You and Bob [the 19-year old economics major] can stay with us," Troy said -- a godsend in baseball season, when every hotel in a 50 mile radius of Cooperstown jacks up the rates.  "Can you come for Charles' 50th birthday party on July 8th?  Every gay guy in the state will be there -- it will be intense."

Just as we were driving into Otsego County, I got a text from Troy.  "Change of plans -- we're spending the week at Charles' grandparents's lake house.  But don't worry, we told them the situation, and they said it's fine for you to be there."

I didn't want to spend three nights in the home of elderly heterosexuals I'd never met, but it was too late to back out -- every decent hotel nearby was sure to be booked solid.

There are two versions of what happened next.

Boomer's version:

Friday

We have dinner with Troy and Charles in town, and then follow them to the lake house: 10 miles on narrow dirt roads.  I'm completely lost.

It's not a big house: 3 bedrooms, a living room, a small kitchen, two decks, and a dock.  No wifi, which means no course prep, Facebook, or Grindr.  A TV that is turned constantly to CNN, unless it's off, and whiny female vocalists are playing instead.  Charles grandparents, retired professors in their 80s, tell us about 40 years of happy memories in this house.  When Charles was a boy, he and his parents would come out almost every weekend during the summer.

"Hey, we should go for a midnight boat ride!" Charles exclaims.  "Like when I was a kid."

I'm not a fan of swimming or boating.  I don't even like driving over a bridge.  In Florida I lived four blocks from the beach and never went in the water.  And I especially don't want to go boating in the middle of the night.  I politely refuse, but Bob exclaims "Cool!  I'm in!"

The full story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.

Visiting Dustin: Hookups, Sharing, and a Bathhouse Surprise

Minneapolis,  July 5th, 2016

I arrive in Minneapolis at 3:00 pm on a Tuesday to visit my sort-of boyfriend Dustin.

Dustin is 21 years old, an animation major at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, short, with  thick brown hair, a handsome square face, and a slim, tight physique with an outtie belly button.

He has an apartment in an old Victorian across the street from the Minneapolis Institute of Art, with two straight roommates who are gone for the summer

Over dinner at the Red Dragon, he asks "What do you want to do while you're here?  If we ever make it out of the bedroom, that is."

"The Institute of Art, of course.  The Walker Art Center.  And a lot of Asian cuisine.  All our tiny town on the Plains has is not-very-good Chinese."

"There's an epic Malaysian place a few blocks away.  And Vietnamese and Thai, and we even have Tibetan.   Anything else?"

"A play at the Guthrie?"

"They're doing South Pacific this weekend.  Lots of gorg soldier boys to perv on.  But I was wondering if you were up for a more erotic evening."

"Sure, I'm up for that. What do you have in mind?  Or who?"

He grins.  "It's a surprise."

The full post, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.