Later that same night...
XXXX had eyes on stalks in that they were both cruising wildly. XXXX took some boy into the cottage and had sex with him. Then came out for another one - called, confusingly, XXXX. This XXXX had a snog with XXXX, then someone else, then XXXX and then XXXX (He really wasn't XXXX type but XXXX was drunk!). XXXX kept saying to XXXX (loudly), "he's staring at XXXX crotch". Heavens. The extra shouty bits were in clear evidence by that point.
Poor XXXX cruised this guy all night but when XXXX started pointing at him - he fled.
By 1:30pm I pulled XXXX out and said "HOME!".
Normal Tuesday really.
This is an excerpt from e-mail I sent to David earlier (with names blanked to protect the innocent - and not so innocent)
overyourhead - some irreverent musings by a gay London guy - crawling though technology, love and life... so you don't have to.
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