I pop down to Brighton to see my twinkie ex Adam, and his new boyfriend/carer, Wouter. They have been in Brighton less than three months. And that is all the time they needed to shag it, bless 'em.
They sit in their flat, with two computers, harvesting boys off the internet in a way that's either thoroughly modern, or oddly chilling. Adam even keeps notes in Excel and has a set of standard replies.
"Ooh look, private pictures from the builder!" Wouter will coo.
Adam will nod, happily. "Great - ask him if he wants to double-fuck next Wednesday, will you, love?"
And then they'll laugh, and pour more gin.
I've always viewed Brighton as a quaintly genteel seaside resort with interesting clubbing and horrible gay bars. But, on the only sunny Saturday this summer, they plonk me on a terrace and explain, patiently, how wrong I am.
If it isn't an eyebrow-burning anecdote about their houseboy, it's the truly awful story about meeting their neighbours.
"Well, we were having a fight, and she knocked on the door, and she said 'Mark and I can hear everything - even when you have sex at 3am.' and we said oh, and she said 'But come down for a drink sometime' and so we did the next week, and got hammered, and she said 'I've always thought watching two guys would turn me on' and so we did, right there on the kitchen table, and then they did, which was odd, as he's really fit and i thought 'what a waste of a great cock', but they're really nice and we get on very well now, don't we?"
Then we walk into town, and there's a woman singing Carmen on a street corner. Wouter and Adam stand there, singing along for a bit, before going off to buy flowers and drugs.
6 comments:
Fascinating insight into the life of modern gays, there. Fantastic. Although the Excel thing is a bit disturbing... maybe I'm just worried by organisation? It seems probable.
it was never like that when i lived there - and i've only just left... damn
Wouter ? Is he one of those enormous, long legged, broad-shouldered, dairy fed Dutchmen ? Holland is the only place I've felt comfortable being 6' 5'', practically a midget.
The Excel thing is a delicious detail: although converting to an Access or other database program would make some things easier to do. Nothing like this ever, ever happens to me. I seem to have become a walking anaphrodisiac. I've even failed to cop off at an orgy. Is there a course I can go on ? Advanced Sluttery ? Copping Off 101 ?
The organisation shouldn't disturb you - gays, sci fi fans and OCDs like keeping lists. I'm just saying.
Wouter is, despite the name, an adorable pocket gay. The only other Wouter I knew, though, was the gorgeous captain of rugby at school. And yes - he was one of those thoroughly disreputable Dutchmen.
As to failing to cop off at an orgy... erm... well, maybe you've just got standards. There's also the mentally disturbing collision of shag mats and bowls of wotsits. That can be off-putting. I'd imagine.
Orgies are just like many other parties - full of people looking over your shoulder for someone better to talk to, or in this case, fuck.
thank you for that image. why yes, thank you.
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