I think this is the first time I've had a guest from one of the former Soviet Republics. The sexclub outing didn't pan out as planned (guess what that means?) - so I left there at about 2:45 for some beer and bad music at The Cock (the 3 men remaining at the sexclub had each expressed interest in getting f*cked, but couldn't comprehend that it wasn't my thing - godonlyknows what the 3 bottomboys did after I left). After grabbing my 2nd beer, I noticed some shaved-headed (headed?) man looking in my direction several times, and after I smiled, he came over, leaned in to order a beer, and within minutes was testing out the waters (he managed to do a thorough inventory of what I had - jockstrap, cockring, balls, and, well, you get the idea, he was in there). It wasn't until another man, watching us, had bought me a beer (he said we looked so obviously in love, he wanted to toast us!), that I noticed how inebriated my new man was. Some good kissing, some silly unbuckling and rebuckling of my belt (thank god that bar is so dark!), and I had the chance to feel that he was really really happy to meet me. At one point, he darted out of the bar, and silly ol' me, I followed.

Have you ever tried riding a really drunk guy home on your bike? He could not keep his balance, but miraculously we got home ok. I was hoping for sleep, he had other ideas. After fumbling around for about an hour, he finally gave up and let us fall asleep. This morning, of course he was at it again, and somehow, despite my headache, bodyaches, and concerns about my breath, we finished what we had started a few hours earlier. Exactly 2 minutes after handing him the clean-up towel, he was dressed, saying "thanks" and headed for the door. So much for international relations. Now I must get some rest.