The music pulsed as I watched men shed their shirts and shorts, underwear flying off like confetti in the night. Fists pumped, bodies glistened with sweat, and I saw leather-clad bottoms and hard, sculpted chests flash before my eyes. This was Ibiza and I could smell the hot, gay desire in the air.
Browsing: #sweating
I wander through the night, my eyes riveted by the sweat-slicked backs of men, the glow of street lights reflecting in the dew of their skin. The erotic curves of Tel Aviv’s homoerotic artistry moves me to dizzying heights as I explore its every nook and cranny. I feel the urge to touch deep, to kiss salacious and taste a level of sexuality rarely seen before. I feel free, alive.