I took a trip to Provincetown, knowing it was the gay district of Cape Cod. I had never tasted anything like it before. I went to a bar, and my eye caught the sapphic gaze of a stranger calling me over. We drank together and the sexual attraction was impossible to deny. We clasped hands, left, and went to her place to suck each other off until morninglight.
Browsing: #QueerTravel
The heat of Barcelona bloomed like a hidden garden. Sweat ran down my neck to my chest and lower, pooling in the valley of my hips. Everywhere I looked I saw opportunity and I felt the electricity between every glance. The gay nightlife sang with anticipation and I eagerly followed. I would soon learn of all the possibilities my newfound freedom brought.
The warmth of Cape Town was heavenly. It felt like a dream, yet with each step I could feel the energy of the city engulfing me. I allowed it’s pulse to drive me forward as I fantasized about all the hot nights and hot bodies awaiting me. I was already imagining myself being embraced by strong, rippling arms and brushed by the soft lips of passionate lovers. My heart raced with anticipation.