Nathan’s rules were, ‘no orgies, no meat’. So, no cock, no comfort.
His most recent relationship had been with a pre-op f-m sex change, but Yaron grew bored and ended it.
After exertions, he told me more about his life. He is, of course, involved with someone, blah blah, they’re breaking up, blah blah, or maybe not, blah blah.
It may have been my sympathetic manner, it may have been the badge that says ‘Cock’ that I wear on my lapel, maybe it’s Maybelline, who can tell, but Ido soon began to tell me scandalous stories about his busy sex life.
He was the colour of honey, a few freckles across his shoulders, his pale-pink nipples catching the sunlight.
Unusually for Israel, this Land of Blutos, he had no beard, no stubble, no hairy chest. He said, “Let’s go in,” so in we went.
Nathan imagines they’d be caught and, besides, the man may be a serial killer, so suggests the cruising park behind the Hilton instead. Much safer.