Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Do you want fries with that? (or how to be the takeaway…)



Mar 2009.  Back at the usual place in Sin City, where I now have a nodding acquaintance with a disturbing number of other regulars.  We chat, we flirt, but actual action has been thin on the ground.
One very good looking European guy, and his equally handsome but shorter friend, plonk themselves down on the couch next to me and start to chat.  I don’t quite understand what’s going on - they are openly a couple, and have been together for a few years.  This is despite them having wives, who apparently view them as ‘vacation buddies’ (a la Brokeback Mountain), all of which is cheerfully discussed.  The tall one makes a call, and an extended conversation follows.  I’m getting bored by this, so make to leave.  “Wait”, says the guy, “My friend wants to talk to you” and hands me the phone.  I take it, and this absurdly sexy voice asks me how I am, what am I doing and have I eaten yet?  “My friends are coming to me now, please join us”.  Apparently, my chat with the first two has been an interview, and I have been found acceptable for their friend.  Would you call them pimps?  Would I join?

Into a very nice car, and drive to a very nice part of town.  Houses in this part of the world tend to be large (to say the least), but this one was massive.  We go in, and it’s like a frat house – random men sitting about, soccer playing on the world’s largest TV, bongs, booze and a camp little Filipino man running around packing cones, pouring drinks and emptying ashtrays.  I meet my host, he of the absurdly sexy voice - clearly a local, he’s neither well built nor handsome, just kind of normal looking.  He seems to be in his mid-late 30's, and clearly has an air about him.  Let's call him 'the sheikh'.  A frankly delicious meal, and back to the lounge.  The sheikh offers me a tour, but we don’t get past the bedroom.    The door is closed and locked, and he’s on his knees in a trice, eagerly gnawing at my pants and the bulge within.  We strip, he passes the essentials to me, and then flops to his stomach.  At his request, I fuck him as hard as I can manage, then give him a facial.  We shower, dress and return to the party as if nothing had happened, although the smirks in the room told me everyone else was in on it.  To be honest (and uncharacteristically), I felt rather dirty, so made my way for the door, wondering how far I'd have to walk before I found a taxi.  I was quickly intercepted by the Pinoy, who informed “his highness has a driver waiting for you”, which actually made me feel even worse. 

But fuck it – if someone offered you a ride home in a Phantom, you’d take it too…

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