So yeah, I cheated once (Cont'd)

Went out with Iain to the Rasta Style place tonight. Was actually a little on the boring end of things. Firstly it is fn cold, and even though they had the fire lit, the doors were still open and the draft was everywhere. The band arrived late and only started playing at ten. And Iain was in a depressing mood. So just got home, I left the heating on, so it is beautifully warm...

--------

So back to the story...

The taxi dropped me off in front of this place called The Bronx. Anyone from Cape Town will know the place. I guess it is THE first place to go to if you want a gay club experience in Cape Town. Basically, as I remember it (it was a good five years ago), it was a bar on a corner. I arrived too early for anything to be actually happening, and at first was a little disappointed. There were only a handful of guys just chatting quietly here and there, having a drink or two. I was already quite on my way after the afternoon's white wine, so I just kept going. By the time the place started pumping, I was pretty inebriated.

As this was my first real experience of anything gay, I kept to myself, and just got drunk. Slowly, but steadily.

At some point, this guy comes up to me, and says his friend really likes me, and could they join me for a drink. Of course I say...

So they come over. The interested boy is pretty much just legal drinking age, a light skinned latino looking coloured guy, tallish, pink t-shirt, tight low rider jeans, fake diamond in one ear, a smile that lit up the room, and lips I simply wanted to consume. I bought them drinks, then his friend mysteriously disappeared at some point. We drank and chatted. His hand was on my leg. We moved outside where it was darker.

As soon as we found a quiet place, we were kissing. It was consuming, desperate. I had more than a decade of pent up feelings, he was just plain horny.

He came back with me to the hotel. As soon as the door was closed, we were stripping each other off, lips never unlocking. I had him in my mouth, then mine in his, all the time breaking for breath and more kssing. His lips were sweet and soft, his body tight and ready.

All I wanted was to be fucked again. It was obsessive. I rode him till we both were spent and exhausted. I can't be sure how long it was, the Vodka blurred the hours. Cum on light chocolate skin. There cannot be anything better.

We fell asleep, interlocked, still breathing sex.

At about five in the morning, I woke with his lips carressing my soft cock. I pretended to be asleep, taking in the portrait of his closed eyes as he gently had me in his mouth. I was more sober then, and as much as I tried, I was getting hard again. He lay against me, realising I was awake. We kissed again. It was the thing I missed most; no-one kisses like a man.

Soon he was behind me again, his cock inside me was a symbol of everything I had missed. It was over too soon, and as I drifted off to sleep, I felt him slip out of me, felt the wetness on the sheets.

Too soon, my alarm went off. He was getting out the shower, had made me coffee which was still hot next to the bed. Soon his smiling face was in mine again.

"I have to get home to change and get to work."

And with that, all that was left was the smell of him on the sheets. No name, no number.

I never went back, the Bossman wanted to entertain clients. Girl was talking to me again.

Two days later, I was back at home. G and I were still sharing a bed, but our intimacy was long gone already. I lay awake as she snuggled in her sleep out of habit. I held her because we had had a good run, and kissed her hair while she slept.