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Click hereAlong Walton Street. The fair's last frantic night. Tomorrow it will be gone, like a magic city that dissolves with the first rays of dawn, to leave only its messy aftermath of cartons and restlessly-blowing rubbish. Breathless with anticipation I ring his bell. A long silence. Then -- as I ring a second time, he half-opens, and says 'sorry, not tonight, OK?', and slams it shut. Standing outside I hear his voice, and a girl laughing, the way some girls do. A laugh like he's told her a dirty story, or some scandalous secret. Stunned, I go away feeling totally let down. If not now, does that mean not ever again? And deep inside me I know that it does. It's too early to go home, I daren't face their questions. So I wander the streets, go into the cinema and don't even know what movie I'm supposed to be watching. That's it, he'd used me for what he wanted. There was no more. But, like the song that will be forever a part of this, I guess it doesn't matter anymore... Eventually, with no place else to go, I return home. In bed I masturbate wretchedly between tears of remorse, self-recrimination and self-pity, with images in my head of his cock spurting into my mouth over and over again as I do so. The Gipsy's cure, The Fortune Teller lied, of course...
- COMMENTS
tristantrotskyover 10 years agoAuthorThanks for your comment, very much appreciated. Why stay anonymous? email me. We can talk...
Anonymousover 10 years agoI also lived through it, the people being named and shamed, some also being jailed.
But so many of us survived it all, some in the closet and some openly.
Hard at the time to make the first move but so exciting when contact was made and so thrilling to be seduced for the first time, Oh I remember it well.
