“You have time for me?” “Pavel, I always have time for you,” I said. “OK, my darling. See you Rudolfa 15 minuty, ok?” “OK,” I said, and slid my mobile back into a cargo pocket. I only see Pavel once or twice a month now, since he started working more-than full-time at a construction job. …
Last night was one of those nights at Rudolfa where the details of what had happened only became clear in the morning and the slow, turgid afternoon. I had a hard time believing what I saw and felt in my mind. Did I really suck the big, beautiful brown dick of that average-looking gypsy guy …
I haven’t written the other parts yet. I will, I just haven’t gotten around to it. Whether I drink alcohol or not, I have a temper that occasionally manifests itself physically or violently. I’ve been dubbed a “mean-ass drunk,” and I know what that means. However, I can be mean at any time; alcohol simply …
He was decent at cocksucking, something which I had not asked him to do, but for which I was grateful. Interesting sight that, seeing a straight boy bobbing between my legs by the light of a sodium lamp, all while my head was spinning and my eyes were filled with stars.
Did I really suck the big, beautiful brown dick of that average-looking gypsy guy with the awful mullet? In the toilet? Twice? And then go back out into the room and tongue Milan, the skinhead gypsy I’ve had a crush on for months? Did I really turn down the reciprocal blow job? What was wrong with me?
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