A sweet raw boy/boy party the type I used to be the star at – ahhhh memories
I used to go to parties like this every weekend – go out to the clubs, do some great drugs, and after the closing head to somebodies gay house for the afterhours party. We’d get rid of the hangers on and do some more great drugs – for we were immortals and nothing could touch us – and put on some esoteric music that no-one else was cool enough to know about or understand, and we’d start to dance together, doing experimental movements and these incredibly erotic things that we thought of as performance art. We were dazzled by our own coolness and style.
And then we would start to fuck – and we would fuck until dawn. In and out of the shower, fucking and cleaning and watching fucking then fucking again. We were like greek gods, nothing was forbidden, everything was permissable, and sex was magic and charged with powers that turned us from gods back into ordinary young men. That was the ultimate magical act, using sex to become normal. And I know that seems odd, and maybe makes no sense, but we weren’t about making sense, we were about “NOT BEING STRAIGHT”, about not being subservient like the straights were subservient.
Yet, we needed to be straight enough to survive. Some of us didn’t. That’s a sad story that I don’t want to tell.
These boys reminded me of those days.
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