16 February 2007

Worst sexual experience 2 - on a lighter note!

Still innocent and naïve, the summer of 1994 was spent in the great and pleasant land where the majority of my own gentle readers reside.

Possession of a finely-tuned Irish accent made seduction of the local gay gentleman easier than usual, and given one worked as a bar-back at a gay venue called Napoleons in Boston, MA (one anticipates a cult following, after revealing that) one had plenty of opportunities.

By far the worst of my disappointing sexual experiences that summer involved a handsome gay gentleman named Ken, who invited me back to his admittedly fabulous apartment and offered to share himself in a king-size bed, replete with a giant mirrored headboard, neither of which would have been out of place in a Southern bordello before the civil war.

When our sexual interaction commenced, one was distracted and perturbed by his insistence on talking on and on… and given Irish people- oneself included- have a tendency to while saying nothing at all, this really was rather a lot.

Most of his enquiries pertained to one’s schooling; had one attended an all-boy’s school? (no, one had not) were there other boys in my school? (yes, there were) did we wear a uniform? (yes, a drab nasty thing) had we gotten changed together before and after playing sports? (yes, we had) had one fantasised about fucking those other boys? (er… no, one most certainly had not)

Suffice to say, all the while Ken was indulging in fantasies about having sex with an admittedly young and boyish-looking gay gentleman, he kept checking his own appearance in the mirrored headboard. One quickly realised what was going on.

Despite one's own desperate need for a little man on man action, there was no alternative: one pointed out that his little fantasies were just that - his fantasies - and had no relation to the person he had invited back to his fabulous apartment. They were best enjoyed in the pleasure of his own company and his mirror, since this exchange involved offering me no pleasure whatsoever, and so one duly left.


JoyZeeBoy said...

"...one worked as a bar-back at a gay venue called Napoleons in Boston, MA"

BINGO! I knew I knew you.

The noose tightens...

Ms C Qrisp said...

Er, noose?

Certainly there were strange rumours surrounding my departure from Napoleons, but never heard that one...