He could feel his heart racing as he inched closer to the bay, walking the deserted streets on a hazy July night. Suddenly, a warm hand reached around his waist and an invigorating whisper filled his ear, “Have I got something for you, handsome.” His eyes widened as if reality was becoming a dream. With a belated nod of his head, the two vanished into the night. It was time for San Fran cocksuckin’.
Browsing: #SanFran
The City of San Francisco was a playful mix of succulent studs and the brazen excitement of a stirred gay scene. Every corner I turned tasted of the mind-numbing pleasure of a forbidden aroma filling my senses. As I strolled through the streets, I beheld a spectrum of bewitching beauty, a bouquet of deliciously perfect physiques ready for the taking. It was like a temple to queer beauty, a temple that reminded me of Heaven Lane.
The San Fran hunks were rocked with muscle, glistening pecs, and abs that popped. Our eyes met with carnal hunger and we both knew what was coming. Lithe and strong, his body was a manly sculpture, made for worshipping.
The fog rolled in, cloaking the city in a veil of mystery and setting the stage for the night’s sultry pursuit of pleasure. In the steamy clubs and bars, stallions were everywhere, an array of strings of jewels hung from their earlobes, their toned bodies glimmering in the flickering lights. I took one in particular, his eyes twinkling with desire, and let him take me away to a night of homoerotic delight.
The sun was setting over San Francisco and I could feel the pulse of the city in my veins. His energy oozed out of me like the muscles that were bulging beneath my tight T-shirt. As I made my way through the streets, my eyes were drawn to those around me; muscular jocks one and all. This was the city of my fantasy, a hotbed of homoerotic desire. I felt alive amongst the men— everything seemed heightened—the smell, the touch, the fantasy of it all. I was in my element.