Street Art. Olvera St., Los Angeles, CA. (Click on the photo for a closer look!)
Archive for Travel
Today’s Photo
Walt Disney Concert Hall. Los Angeles, CA. (Click on the photo for a closer look!)
Today’s Photo
Lucha Libre Masks. Olvera Street, Los Angeles, CA (Click on the photo for a closer look!)
Jeffrey
Well, it didn’t take long!
Less than an hour after I checked in, I looked up from “Under the Banner of Heaven” to see this guy looking into my room, asking if he could come in. I wish this crappy camera-phone pic did him justice; he’s really sexy. After he made himself comfortable he said “I bet you think I'm a hustler.” I didn’t but he was, of course. After I told him that I wasn't going to pay him for sex, he said, “But I‘ll do anything for $20!’” Oh, what the hell? Who am I to deny a crackhead his fix? Besides, we all pay for sex somehow.
He undressed and we got down to it. Unfortunately he was a lousy kisser and, much as I wanted to fuck his beautiful furry hole, I just could’t get past my having only gotten two hours sleep. So I “settled” for a stellar blow job. It was great even though I had to remove my PA because it was “limiting his technique.” He did just what I loved and looked into my eyes while he sucked my dick. At one point he said “Tips are appreciated!” It was hilarious. Then he buried the head deep in his throat as I shot a week’s worth of cum inside him. What a fucking relief!! Just what I needed.
Nap time!
Viva Habana!
I just checked into the Habana Inn, Oklahoma City, OK. In case you haven’t been paying attention, the Habana is a gay “resort,” in other words, a sex club masquerading as a motel. I’m here to visit friends, maybe work and, mostly, plow some Great Plains ass.
I love the Habana. It’s everything the Parliament House in Orlando used to be and should still be; and what the Parliament Resort in Augusta GA still is. The staff, rude as they might sometimes be, actually encourage cruising the rooms after the on-site bars close. There is almost always a refreshing variety of men here looking for actual sex, not just a bunch of giggling queens gawking at the guests like they’re visiting a zoo. (Not that there are none of those.)
When I first left Philadelphia in 2000, escaping a stalking ex-lover, I stayed here for six weeks. Not only did I have a lot of sex but I was impressed with the masculinity of the men as well as the fact that this place even existed in such an unlikely place as OKC. I hope things haven’t changed much after four years of our recently re-elected “faith-based” administration.
I’ll be here until Monday, sitting in my shorts in my room window and cruising the internet using the Habana’s ancient and unreliable phone lines. (C’mon, guys! It’s 2004!! Let’s get some broadband going on in this place, fer Chrissake!)
Back soon!
