S Pavlem jsme se spolu dostali do mnoha problémů, většinou kvůli pití a výtržnostem, a nepochybuji o tom, že jsem ho líbala častěji než kteréhokoli jiného muže, včetně dlouholetých přítelů. Většina lidí, kteří nás spolu viděli venku, předpokládala, že jsme kluci, což jsme do jisté míry byli. Ať už jsme byli cokoli, měli jsme jedinečný vztah. Tuhle noc jsme se bavili ještě víc než obvykle.
Drunk every day. Making money every day. Sex every day. A real bed to sleep in. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun or felt so content and relaxed. My buddy Craig is here so I’ve been staying with him in a very swank 1-bedroom apartment just five minutes from my
So. I had a “boyfriend” for, what, about ten days? I’d felt drafted into it anyway. The sex was voluntary, but the other trappings of some stupid gay relationship, such as insisting on sharing the cigarette I’m currently smoking or drinking off the beer I’m working on or wearing my hoody (well, actually I found
He let me suck him for a while and then bent down to look at me through the hole. He had a goatee and cropped head so, of course, what I saw of him was acceptable to me. He made a big show of checking me out and then smiled and came on over.
Clint had told me that he didn’t mind getting fucked at first, but that after a few minutes he started protesting and saying “ow, ow, ow.” I stuck a finger in to see how tight he was and decided he wasn’t going to have a problem with my dick. I slid right in with only a slight life of Jarda’s head as a response.
Gypsy Alex wouldn’t go with me to Valentino for, perhaps, a little biznis, because he was waiting in the Kavarna for his boyfriend of 4 years. I’m comfortable describing him as gypsy because when I asked him if he was Czech, he said no, “I’m gypsy.” I don’t encounter such tribal assertions very often. The
First, Alex. Then Daniel and I, two guys alone together in Valentino Číst dál "
Twenty-four male tourists, all employees of The Bulldog Pub in Brighton, filed into Rudolfa last night, in what looked like an endless line. About half of them were cute and a couple quite fuckable. As they came in and down the stairs and streamed into the back, the guys got gayer and drunker. One tattooed skinhead
Over on another platform, I declared the station scene officially dead, that it was no longer possible to pick up random down & out boys and persuade them to do biznis. It might, in fact, be dead, but if so it’s still staggering around like a zombie in the middle of the night. Miro took
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