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Cruising Horror Stories

Inspired by the thread asking "Do you remember everyone you had sex with?", I thought it would be fun to share odd, scary, funny or otherwise memorable hook-up stories. The sex itself, how good or hot it was, isn’t what’s really important here, but rather the unusual, coincidental, embarrassing or downright horrifying circumstances of, or repercussions from a clandestine sexual encounter. Me first!:

One cold winter night, probably around 1990, I was at The Limelight, an old church that had been turned into a club here in NYC. After drinking and dancing for a good while, I moved into the main event of the evening: the backroom that was upstairs on the top floor of the side building of the church, so I could get my swerve on before going home. I made my way around that pitch-black, pitched-roof room looking, or feeling really, for the right situation. I'd had to fend off one guy who’d been particularly aggressive, but that's normal for this type of entertainment.

I found a cutie I was into, and we tucked ourselves away in a private little corner to get our little freak on. So, we were getting as busy as we could – meaning some kissing, masturbation and maybe a little sucky, even though at the time oral sex in this type of venue was forbidden – “Lips above the hips, guys!” was a familiar command from guys who were there to monitor the practices and keep everyone safe. They’d warn you once, but the second time they caught you, they’d kick you out.

Well, my guy was, in fact, going down on me, and rather well if I recall. After a few minutes, suddenly, to my horror, from the other side of this dark little abyss, I heard some guy yelling, “Oh yeah, (yelling my first and last name), get that cock sucked!"; then again "Yeah, that’s what I said, (using my first and last name again), enjoy getting your cock sucked, man! I guess you’re not into ME, (my name - yet again) but I sure hope you have a good time!" adding my name still again. It was the guy I'd pushed away earlier.

This asshole said my full name, very loudly about five times. The others in the room started shushing him and telling him to shut up. I remember one guy yelling back at him saying, "Hey, that's not cool, man, shut up!" Finally, after he’d killed the vibe of the entire group, lips-above-the-hips-guy made him leave. I was pulled out of my alcohol-fueled horn-fog, and with my mood deflated, so to speak, I decided I should get the fuck out of there. I smooched the guy and made my way out. (continued...)

by Anonymousreply 74Last Friday at 7:45 PM

... As I made my way to the stairs, I realized I’d lost my shirt, which I had pulled through one of the belt loops on my jeans, but I wasn’t going back in for a damned Fruit of the Loom tank top, which I’m sure was on the disgusting floor anyway. At the top of the stairs, I passed the fucker who I’d rebuffed earlier, who obviously had been the one calling out my name, but I kept going, wanting to get away from him. When I got down to the coat check, I realized that the undershirt wasn’t the only thing missing. My wallet was gone. I hadn’t put it in my sock, as was my habit. So, not only were my money, credit card and I.D. gone, but so was the claim-check for my sweater, coat and scarf. Fuck. It was still relatively early, probably around 2:00 am, so there were hundreds of coats left, and the rule was that if you lost your coat check, you had to wait until the end of the night. The coat check queen wouldn’t give in either, even after I asked for the promoter of the party, Marc Berkley, who I knew, to intervene. I couldn’t find anyone I knew to bum some money from for a cab, so, in my drunken stupor I decided, “Fuck it, I’ll walk home!”

Outside, not only was it too cold to be bare chested, it had started to snow a little. But I thought I could make it the three blocks to the subway, jump the turnstile and take the train up to my apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, which was, by the way, years and years before it became the Overrun-With-Whores center of gaydom it is today. Luckily, before I could get a block, a cab with a drag queen and two other guys who I recognized from the neighborhood, but didn’t know at all stopped, asked what the hell I was doing, took pity on me and took me uptown to my apartment.

I was more careful the next time...

by Anonymousreply 107/29/2020

... I wondered after if the asshole yelling my name and calling attention to my forbidden blowjob was the one who stole my wallet that night. But, I think not. Someone stealing wallets in a back room probably wouldn't have been stupid enough to call attention to himself.

by Anonymousreply 207/29/2020

I used to go to a big nightclub in Pittsburgh that used to be a bank. A cute hairy guy was smiling and following me and I ended up following him into an upstairs restroom. He unbuckled his jeans and somehow, the belt buckle got caught on the metal supports of the sink.

He started freaking out and that was when I realized that he was, previously unbeknownst to me, hearing impaired. He was VERY loud and spoke with the impediment one would expect from a hearing impaired person - not his fault, but hearing THAT voice and THAT impediment at full volume.....well, it had a very "Dat's da suck job" vibe.

I tried to help him get disconnected, but we both ended up getting thrown out. And like R1, my coat got stuck in coat check without me.

by Anonymousreply 307/29/2020

Once a whore, always a whore, darlin’.

by Anonymousreply 407/29/2020

Ask your doctor about Seroquel, OP.

by Anonymousreply 507/29/2020

There was that one time in the park......

by Anonymousreply 607/29/2020

I wonder if OP's story will go on even more! I am sure nobody hopes so.

by Anonymousreply 707/29/2020

I don't see how that story has any indications of schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, or depression, r5.

by Anonymousreply 807/29/2020

OP, you never figured out who was the guy saying your name?

by Anonymousreply 907/29/2020

Yes, r7, perhaps I was a little verbose...

by Anonymousreply 1007/29/2020

OP, now regale us with the tale of your journey to the Department of Motor Vehicles to obtain a replacement identification card.

by Anonymousreply 1107/29/2020

R8 I think there is suspicion that OP hallucinated the guy and just got really fucked up & lost his stuff.

by Anonymousreply 1207/29/2020

OF COURSE, the guy shouting your full name was the guy who took your wallet, OP.

How else would he know both your first and last name?

Wait ... were you formally introduced by Edith Wharton? That would also explain it.

by Anonymousreply 1307/29/2020

Well, may he was the one who stole my wallet, r13. He got aggressive with me at bars after that, and I watched him get do the same with other people as well. So who knows?

by Anonymousreply 1407/29/2020

Did you tell him your full name, OP?

If you didn’t, the only way he would know it would be by looking at your ID, which was .... in your wallet.

Or, as I said before, Edith Wharton told him.

by Anonymousreply 1507/29/2020

[quote][R8] I think there is suspicion that OP hallucinated the guy and just got really fucked up & lost his stuff.

No, OP just types manic.

by Anonymousreply 1607/29/2020

What's manic about it r16?

by Anonymousreply 1707/29/2020

I know I'm gonna be accused of bumping my own thread, but I am really interested in hearing funny cruising stories. Anyone?

by Anonymousreply 1807/29/2020

Big, tall, hairy, muscular leather daddy had a small, weak, effeminate voice. It still kills my boner when I think about it.

by Anonymousreply 1907/29/2020

R18 I think the problem is most DLers are going to be the antagonists in these kinds of stories.

by Anonymousreply 2007/29/2020

Between my freshman and sophomore years of college I took a student tour of Europe. I was deep in the closet, and hadn't yet had sex with a man. The tour group was fairly tight and did things together most evenings, but in London I had a night totally on my own. I made up my mind to go to a gay bar and try to have sex with someone. Anyone. So, around 9:00 I got to a bar I saw an ad for. No one looked twice at me. I stood at the bar, feeling like a fool. 9:45 and I hear, "Last call!" I looked around in confusion. I had no idea that in those days London bars all closed at 10:00. That's when a nice looking South African man in his late 30s or early 40s approached and explained the situation to me. I told him my story, how it was my first time in a gay bar. He invited to to go for a coffee, so I left with him. We found a coffee shop around the corner and chatted for half an hour or so. Then he said, "I've really enjoyed meeting you. I'd invite you home with me, but I have to be up early tomorrow for a business trip. Good night." And that was my first time trying to hook up at a gay bar.

by Anonymousreply 2107/29/2020

My husband and I were out for brunch and then drinks with friends one weekend. Our friends were pretty much done, but we told them we wanted one last round... we didn’t tell them it was because some sexy, though also kind of greasy, young man was eyefucking us from the end of the bar. We said our goodbyes to the friends and let our prey come to us.

We ended up hitting it off, offered The Boy a drink at our place, he accepted and we took him home. I hope I don’t need to tell you everything that happened after that, but needless to say we all got naked and began enjoying ourselves.

The Boy was a total bottom, which was fine with us. We took turns, changed positions, kissed, fucked, etc. At one point he was on his knees, and I was fucking him from behind, my husband gave me the signal he wanted a go, so I pulled out. The Boy flipped onto his back, raised his legs and as my husband started to slide into him I slowly realized something wasn’t quite right.

I wasn’t fast enough to stop it though... The Boy, now on his back, my dick and balls hanging where they once had been pounding him from behind, maneuvered to suck me off as his other hole was getting continued attention. But he saw that he hadn’t prepared as fully for our group encounter as he should have. He pulled his face away from my slightly shit-covered cock, but still wasn’t able to fully avoid my balls, equally messy, dragging across his upper lip (and across his cheek too).

It’s the only time I’ve ever seen a Dirty Sanchez in real life.

by Anonymousreply 2207/29/2020

R21 sounds like you were chubby and fugly.

by Anonymousreply 2307/29/2020

R3 Pegasus?

by Anonymousreply 2407/29/2020

When I was young there was a murder in my little town. A teen boy had been found naked with his head bashed in. Another teen who was gay was immediately suspected and when no charges were ever brought, intense pressure was put on the authorities who finally detained someone, who was freed for lack of evidence.

Fast forward years later, I met the alleged killer at a gay bar. I put on my SJW hat and questioned him about his feelings about the town (not good). I was outraged on his behalf that people thought he was a killer just because they thought he was gay. We went to his apartment and did the deed and I was thinking, how absurd anyone thought him a murderer. But when I got up to go he suddenly exploded in anger. "No one ever stays the night!" I said I would but I was just visiting the city and had to get back to my hosts. He ranted and raved, yelled, and even struggled with me to hold me in the bed as I broke free. I ended up feeling a little spooked. That doesn't make him a murderer, of course, but to have such a tantrum in your 40s is not a good sign.

by Anonymousreply 2507/29/2020

Too many to try to remember, but most happened when I was a very naive college student ages 18-21 in the late 70's-early 80's pre-AIDS and I had a fake ID. All of them were sweet or funny in some way. I grew up in the SF Bay Area and it was 'prime time'. (The only "dangerous" one was an abusive boyfriend, not a hookup). On the surface, these encounters sound porn-worthy, but they were actually akward.

1) A bartender carded me at The Midnight Sun and didn't like my fake student ID, which he called "a library card" (I was 18) and kicked me out. The guy who bought me my third beer -- I was already drunk after the second beer and didn't remember where I parked -- literally picked me up, put me in his car, and took me to his place. His roomate/bf was away for the weekend. We took acid and I threw up in his kitchen, but then we had fun, just laughing and listening to music, until I realized that it was Monday morning and I had a Chemistry mid-term. I was freaking out and still tripping. He drove me to class, 75 miles away, and escorted me to the lecture hall. Late for the test. Some dorm-mates were there and it felt like everyone was looking at us. I was not out. We then went to my dorm room where I got some clothes, we took a shower together down the hall. Now I was out. Then went back to SF and found my car.

2) CHP pulls me over for speeding, but ends up writing me a fix-it ticket for a broken tail light. I couldn't stop staring at him, and he was so amused. 15 minutes later we are in my apartment and I am wearing his boots and he is riding my cock. I had never had anal sex before and came in about two minutes. Never saw him again.

3) Was visiting my parents for some reason. Went to the local suburban gay bar. It was dark. As usual, I started getting drunk after my second beer. Was having a great conversation with the guy sitting next to me, who looked exactly like Dennis Weaver. At last call, he took me back to his place. We were having great sex, but there was a picture on his wall showing him, 5 or 6 kids, and a wife who did not look happy. I realized that he was MUCH older than I thought, which was weird, but who cares. In the morning as we were sober and talking, I learned that he was a real estate appraiser. My mom was a broker. I asked if he knew (my mother's name) and he said "of course! great gal, how do you know her?". I had never seen the color drain from someone's face before. When I got home, hungover at about 8 am. my mom said that I needed water and coffee and some eggs and she was glad I didn't drive home at night and how I was so responsible. My stepdad was beaming and muttered something like, "yeah, as long as he didn't get her pregnant...". wink wink. Maybe five years later I came out to them. And then at the Thanksgiving table I mentioned that I had once slept with their friend, who was about 30 years my senior. My stepdad said something like "Oh, really good looking guy, but I always thought he was light in the loafers. You are a slut". And my Mom said "I'll tell him you said 'Hi".

by Anonymousreply 2607/29/2020

R24 Zack's - on Fourth Avenue, in the early 90s. Now part of the new Playhouse, I think.

by Anonymousreply 2707/29/2020

[quote] Big, tall, hairy, muscular leather daddy had a small, weak, effeminate voice. It still kills my boner when I think about it.

Sadly that's a common story. I remember going back to a "daddy's" place and when we got there it was if his ball cap had turned into a fascinator. His voice went up two octaves and he had lace doilies everywhere and bowls of lavender soap in his bathroom. It was all very MARY! and I got out of there as soon as I could.

by Anonymousreply 2807/29/2020

Calling this a horror story might be a stretch but.....

I got cruised at a bar by a somewhat attractive older guy. He looked sort of familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. Turns out he had been one of my teachers in middle school.

by Anonymousreply 2907/30/2020


by Anonymousreply 3007/30/2020

R14 & R15, I later realized that the guy and I were vague acquaintances before the encounter at The Limelight, which is how he knew my name to shout it out.

by Anonymousreply 3107/30/2020

r21 counts as horror?

Offsite Link
by Anonymousreply 3207/30/2020

r26 gets the Oversharing of the Year Award.

Do you always tell your parents about your tricks?

by Anonymousreply 3307/30/2020

If The Limelight saga gets any longer, Ryan Murphy will option it and turn it into an eight episode series.

by Anonymousreply 3407/30/2020

This was in like 2002 - the days. I lived in Brooklyn, was broke and in-between jobs. I met a guy online - a total daddy (that's my type), in his pic he looked like Tom Selleck. He loved my pic as well and wanted me to come over to his apartment in Gramercy ASAP. Sure! Before I got his address, he simply wrote "I hope you don't mind, but I didn't have time to clean much." Eh, what did I care - I wanted DADDY DICK!.

The first hint that something was off was when I arrived at his apartment building. The building itself was nice, right off the park. But when I announced myself to the doorman and told him who I was going to see, he sighed and rolled his eyes. Shook his head a little. He called up to the guy and said curtly "XXX is here!" and then slammed the phone down. ???

I got on the elevator a little weirded out, but whatever. The pull of the dick is strong. I got to his door and knocked. I heard some noise and then the door opened just a crack. He looked me up and down, then told me to enter.

As soon as I walked in, I knew things were about to take a turn. It took me a moment for my eyes to adjust - it was dark except for the light coming in through the windows. When things came into focus I could see this guy was a total fucking hoarder. Boxes, to-go wrappers, newspapers, weird objects, plates, magazines, record albums, sacks of rice, empty water bottle, bric-a-brac - just towered EVERYWHERE. And it reeked. A pungent assault of aromas invaded my senses and I instinctively exclaimed "oh my god!", turning to him incredulously. The motherfucker was in a leather skirt and harness - and looked NOTHING like his pic. He could see I was about to lose it and started explaining that the pic was from a few years ago before he put on weight. Blah blah blah. I was about to just get the fuck out but he said "wait!!!! do you smoke weed?"

I did.

He then walked over to a trash bag and opened it up. In it was a MASSIVE bale of weed that was so fragrant it literally annihilated all of the other sickening aromas. "I'll give you as much as you want if you let me suck your dick."

I didn't think twice. I just closed my eyes, dropped my jeans and thought about Russel Crowe (it was the post-Gladiator years). He polished my knob greedily and then gave me about a pound of weed. I RAN out of there. As I left the lobby trailing NUCLEAR marijuana fumes, the doorman just gave me the nastiest look I've ever gotten in my life.

The weed lasted for months, and I sold a bunch too, until I got another job.

by Anonymousreply 3507/30/2020

R35 wins.

by Anonymousreply 3607/30/2020

Wins what? “The Whoriest Stoner Ever to Have Whored in 2002” award? I can picture the trophy topper now.

I can also picture Melania’s face showing interest when she hears about the award and realizes she should be nominated too.

by Anonymousreply 3707/30/2020

R35 for the win! A cash prize for Polaroids.

by Anonymousreply 3807/30/2020

I also knew one of those, R19. And he drank Zima!

by Anonymousreply 3907/30/2020

Zima....takes me back

by Anonymousreply 4007/30/2020

Any guy who encountered "The Doodler" in San Francisco

by Anonymousreply 4107/30/2020

I dunno if this falls in the category of "cruising," but it's kind of related.

I'm a police officer and play on a City League baseball team. One of our opposing teams is made up of plumbers. They're a really nice group of guys, and are quite physically attractive. One of their players in particular is a fucking knockout: late 30s I'm guessing, dark hair, 1970s Tom Selleck porn mustache, body by Chrysler, ass like Jello on springs. On a scale of 1-10, this dude is an absolute 15. He's a second-baseman who was born to play that position. He kills. And when he's at bat, even I am kind of afraid of him.

Until he opens his mouth and starts talking. It's like Franki Grandé meets Ross Mathews. I want to seize him by his tree-trunk-like neck and throttle him and say, "cut that the fuck OUT!!!"

So, getting back to the cruising horror story aspect, he did invite me out for a beer one day after a game. but I politely declined. I'm sorry, but I'm into dudes. Call me an elitist. I've been called worse.

by Anonymousreply 4207/30/2020

R35 reminded me, by mentioning gay.cum (as I always called it). I'd been chatting with a guy and he had nice pics, and he said he was a teacher at a private school (total perv giveaway, in hindsight). He wasn't much older than me (maybe 8 years older, at the most). He gave me his address and told me to just walk in the front door when I got to his place. We were both in suburbia, so I thought nothing of it. I got to his house--very 70s tract home like the one I was renting the 2nd floor in--and I knocked quickly and went right in. He was on the 1.5 floor landing (remember those terribly odd 70s architectural concoctions?), with lots of candles lit. He vocalized a quick "Hi" and motioned for me to come in. Once I got up on the weird landing, he was buck naked and sprawled out on a sofa, edging to some porn on his laptop. I waited a couple of minutes and tried to touch him, but he shoo'd me away. After about 10 minutes of observing and trying to think what to say/do, I asked him what he'd like to do. He immediately shut the laptop and asked if we could take a short drive in my truck. We did, and he told me what side street to park on. Within about 25 seconds after parking my truck, he had whipped out his cock and he came all over the passenger seat floor mat. That was the extent of the interaction...he refused to be touched. I dropped him back off at his house and never saw or chatted with him again.

by Anonymousreply 4307/30/2020

No random hookups=No bad cruising stories.

by Anonymousreply 4407/30/2020

There used to be a popular cruisy nude beach in LA in Palos Verdes. Steep trails to get down. Very secluded coves. Never got crowded. Sucked and fucked right out in the open several times. Hooked up with this hot young Latino with gray hair. We're totally naked 69. Then we hear "Oh My God!" In a man's voice. We jump up terrified. There was a small narrow path that ran parallel to the beach halfway up the cliff that I never noticed. There were six people in bikes just staring at us. We grabbed our clothes and knapsacks without even putting our speedos back on and ran like hell to the other side of the beach into the bushes. We hid for about an hour. We never finished.

by Anonymousreply 4507/30/2020

Sorry; lost me at "get my swerve on".

by Anonymousreply 4607/30/2020

[Quote] There was a small narrow path that ran parallel to the beach halfway up the cliff that I never noticed. There were six people in bikes just staring at us.

Riverside Park on the Hudson was like that. Guy and I got it on. The circle line sails by. Tourists staring at us. We waved, got completely naked and put on a great show. Sorry not a horror story but r45 brought back a memory.

by Anonymousreply 4707/30/2020

I remember in the 90s using a phone line for hookups, right before AOL came around, etc.

There was a guy that, after a few back and forth messages, I figured he was about three blocks. He sounded hot, and wanted to come over so I could blow him. I was more naive in those days, more up for anything, and said sure.

The thing I hadn't caught in his outgoing message (broadcast to everyone) was that he said he was looking for someone "kind and generous." Ooops, I had NO idea that "generous" was code for a hustler, that he was asking for payment. I sure as hell learned that day, though.

I apologized profusely but told him I had no idea that's what he was asking for, and no disrespect but I wasn't in any financial position to pay. Luckily, he wasn't an asshole about it. (Maybe because he was only a few blocks from home.) He just shrugged and said later. Lesson learned!

(He was hot, too, in a sort of rough around the edges Matt Dillon-y way.)

by Anonymousreply 4807/31/2020

Most of these seem to be more like hook-up horror stories than cruising ones surely?

I haven't really done cruising anywhere other than a gay bar/club/sauna and have never had random hook-ups in non-gay environments after eye contact and sneaking off somewhere for a discrete blowjob etc.

I can remember a couple of bad cruising in club scenarios, once when I was with a few friends and I was really, really drunk and just dancing with randoms and snogged about 3 of them on the dance floor (who were all of variable degrees of attractiveness according to my less drunk friends, but honestly I have no memory of what they looked like) and one time in a club on my own, one of those 'shirts off' kind of vibes but for some reason I had kept my t-shirt on and I was dancing with a super sweaty French guy, I needed to either get this guy to invite me back to his place for the night or be out all night and wait for the first train home in the morning and I decided I wasn't into him enough to go home with him so I left and then had to wait on a freezing cold train platform at dawn in a t-shirt soaked in his sweat, it was grim.

by Anonymousreply 4907/31/2020

One of the actual cruising horror stories I can remember is just the recurring presence of The Troll Who Won't Take No For An Answer.

I had a favorite cruising place where I often hooked up with hot suit and tie types, but there was always one socially awkward guy who was ALWAYS could go day or night and there he was. Guys would push him to make him leave, because he was just so fucking dense.

by Anonymousreply 5007/31/2020

I can’t stand those guys, r50, and they’re everywhere.

by Anonymousreply 5107/31/2020

R51 Yep, there's always one!

And they either try to get into your action, or they won't go away so action can happen....hate em!

by Anonymousreply 5207/31/2020

I call them “campers.” They’re camping out there FFS.

by Anonymousreply 5307/31/2020

Mine was a black tranny that I sold dope with (I know, save your judgements till the end because it gets worse).

We had split a shipment and I knew that he would go through his real fast. I actually sold mine, but only to a select group so mine moved slower. He was in my car one night and I knew he was out. I told him I was too and he started going crazy, tried to unzip my pants and refused to get out. Yelled about being a junky, slapping the windows.

Now mind you, I had a glock under my seat. I live in the south and have CC. Don’t wanna blow that. So I grabbed his phone and threw it out of the car and slowly left where we were, giving him plenty of time to go grab it, which he didn’t.

So I pulled on the highway and started heading out to redneck country. I would mumble into my phone every now and then and finally said “were here” into it as I was pulling onto an abandoned road.

He was still crying when I dropped him off back where the phone had been. Nothing happened, except for him having a nervous breakdown.

by Anonymousreply 5407/31/2020

As we all can see, Mary R42 is ALL MAN!

by Anonymousreply 5507/31/2020

I probably should have said 'cruising and hook up stories'. The ones that aren't from a cruising situation are just as interesting.

by Anonymousreply 5607/31/2020


by Anonymousreply 57Last Wednesday at 10:14 AM

I was staying at a friend's while I was visiting his city.

He was gone for the night, so I invited a guy back from the bar.

I woke up in the middle of the night and heard something odd.

He was peeing all over my friend's carpets.

by Anonymousreply 58Last Wednesday at 10:27 AM

Not a horror story, but coincidental *and* embarrassing. Picture it: Boston in the late 80s. I used to do a lot of in-house catering for an ad agency and we had an account at a local market. I'd go and get things we'd need for parties, lunch meetings, etc. There was a guy there who wouldn't leave me alone when I'd go in. If I needed deli, there he'd be. Bakery? Bingo! Cash out? Naturally. He would always throw in a couple packs of cigarettes for me, too. He'd constantly say that we had to hang out, go party, go to a concert. He was actually attractive but his buzzing around me made me nervous and self-conscious. I eventually left the job and saw no more of him. Until about two years later.

I was at a bar looking for a hookup and met this great looking guy, smart and we had a lot of fun talking. This was a real connection and it took quite a long time (3+ hours) to decide if we wanted to spend the night together. We even decide then that it's a NSA thing. We go back to his place, go into his room, and proceed to have some of the best sex of my life. Great body, great dick, skillful on every level. My enjoyment expressed itself with laughter and a lot of talk.

Next morning, he wakes me up and says coffee is ready. I walk into the kitchen and sure enough -- his roommate is sitting there too, and it's the guy from the market. Neither one of us lets on that we know the other and the hookup is as fun in the morning as he was last night. He even apologizes to his roommate for how much noise we must have made. I don't want to go, but I am getting the death stare from market boy. My hookup was as fun and enjoyable as he walked me to the T. He even kissed me on the platform -- my first public kiss. Anyway, never saw either of them again.

by Anonymousreply 59Last Wednesday at 12:34 PM

Most are horror stories. To have a great one is the exception!

by Anonymousreply 60Last Wednesday at 12:46 PM

R42 is a douche.

A hot guy is a hot guy. You didn’t have to marry him.

by Anonymousreply 61Last Wednesday at 12:48 PM

R42 is either lying or a total idiot.

by Anonymousreply 62Last Wednesday at 2:58 PM

1980s St. Marks Baths NYC. Someone broke into my locker and took all my clothes and money. They have a big cardboard box in the front office of left behind clothes and they let you pick and choose a shirt and pants to wear. Luckily my shoes were left in the locker and I left my apt. keys in shoes. I had to walk to my apt. in the most disgusting pants and shirt, luckily it was early summer so I didn't freeze. Learned to use the lockbox after that.

by Anonymousreply 63Last Wednesday at 3:50 PM

R63, what year was it?

by Anonymousreply 64Last Thursday at 6:41 AM

r64 = locker thief.

by Anonymousreply 65Last Thursday at 8:33 AM

R65, I was born in 1978!

by Anonymousreply 66Last Thursday at 8:35 AM

OP here: It was 82 or 83.

by Anonymousreply 67Last Thursday at 8:42 AM

R63 and at R67, sorry I am not the OP.

by Anonymousreply 68Last Thursday at 11:06 AM

Bartender at The Spike. I was 24 he was probably 33-38. Went to his place in Gramercy. I was excited about a raunchy sling session. In my “do everything, learn everything” phase. He put out lines on LR table - I didn’t ask what they were and did them. As we start at it, I feel sick and dizzy. Race to the bathroom and puke my guts out for 15 minutes. Then the roommate comes in - old guy who probably owned apartment. I could leave bathroom for 20-30 minutes. Ended up staying night - but no sex.

Still dont know what it was - but I’ve heard you can have that reaction when you first do heroin. Wasn’t coke definitely. And was white/brown. I learned that lesson the hard way.

by Anonymousreply 69Last Thursday at 11:21 AM

[quote] I was born in 1978!

That's no excuse, you were old enough to know better.

by Anonymousreply 70Last Thursday at 11:24 AM

R69, what did you learn from that lesson, and did it need repeating?

by Anonymousreply 71Last Friday at 12:28 AM

Fantastic r59!

by Anonymousreply 72Last Friday at 7:37 PM

No, you are not me, r63, but that's an OP-worthy story!

by Anonymousreply 73Last Friday at 7:41 PM

Sorry, r70, it's an asshole who gives someone drugs and doesn't tell them what it is. A real asshole. The guy who gave it to him didn't deserve to get laid.

by Anonymousreply 74Last Friday at 7:45 PM
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