Excerpt from a drunken outpouring to the Internet, 2005:
ps i was talking to leonard’s flatmate on frida night and he heard about some of my esca[pades and hje was like “so do you just get off with gay boys?” anmd my immediate answer was “not enough”.
but then i got off with him.
Leonard pointed out that my closing remark was completely superfluous, since all my stories ended with “then I got off with him/her”, and therefore this was like saying “The End. The End.”
Anyway, the three of us had been drinking in their flat. I don’t think I’d met #158 before. I was full of stories and he was, well, I forget the actual words he used, but I think he was more or less a self-confessed sleaze. So whatever. Leonard went off to bed and I went into #158’s room because he offered me a massage, which felt like an incredibly cheesy strategy but on the other hand I like massages and so I figured I’d go along with it. He tried to talk me into taking all my clothes off but I declined. Then he massaged TLC into my back, or maybe Light Lube, I forget which, but either way it was not the classiest experience I’ve ever had. Whatever. I got off with him afterwards, spent the night, did the walk of shame in the morning.
A while back Leonard made fun of me because I’d forgotten #158’s name. Only he had too, and he’d lived with him.
~ by Nine on 29 August 2009.
Posted in unauthorised sleepovers