First in line…

We are three friends scattered across the globe, each navigating life as gay Zimbabweans.

The man from my bed has finally left. The job seems to be keeping him busy. We shall see how long he can hold it for.

Nicholas Cage was once ‘a thing’ for me and he was right about one thing in ‘Lord of War’. The first time one fucks is pretty similar to the first time you sell a gun (or something illicit). You are not sure of what you are doing and it is over way too quickly. It was then I realised that gay sex is easy. All it took was a disarming smile. The banter and subterfuge were superfluous. The sex was already guaranteed from showing of dimples. He was in town for some performance. This was when I was involved in the ‘Arts’. He was part of a show I had organised and was staying in a hotel down the road from my apartment. The stars aligned perfectly. Wait! I take that back.  This was a time when I was very religious so everything was tainted with the thought of what Jesus would do. I convinced myself Jesus would be happy if I did it quickly and prayed for forgiveness. My flatmates were (and still are) very religious so it would not have ended well- bringing a stranger home after 11 and disappearing into my room only to have heavy breathing emanating from my room, albeit for 2 minutes. Yes, two minutes. We ended up back in his hotel room with his bandmates talking stories, while patiently nursing a throbbing erection. It had a mind of its own like a toddler. Thank heavens my fashion sense was wanting and I had some baggy clothes on so it was not too visible to the untrained eye. For all the effort and patience, I had my first encounter raw, with spit as lube, in a bath tub. I remember gasping loudly and him having to shove a towel into my mouth to muffle my cries.  The shame is overwhelming. That, coupled with the thought of maybe having caught something. Thankfully nothing was caught and he went away. I climbed back into my mahogany closet with very mixed emotions.

Several years went by before I ever saw him again. He was older and looked worse for wear. The murmurs on the street were that he was selling his wares. My policy is that I shall never pay for sex no matter how hot he is or how firm his ass looks. Sex for cash as a direct transaction is a NO! Fuck no! If you have to pay for it you likely don’t deserve it. Then again, someone refuted that assertion and stated that if you have not paid for it then you have not really had it. When you pay for sex you get to put IT wherever you want: Behind the knee, under the chin or even in the ear… I was offered cash for sex on two occasions. The first incident was by a friend’s lover. He was so old he cold have been Mugabe’s class mate. He was Jewish and I shudder at the imagination of whether he was cut or not. Some things are better left undiscovered. He lived with little boys in his house that he would fondle occasionally. The boys seemed unfazed as he was harmless. His prostate had dealt him a lifetime of whiskey dick. He paid their college fees and they didn’t have to impale themselves on him.  I was a friend but I guess I stood out because I am well spoken and employed. Gay people ‘like things’ and are typically not loyal. Moves were made, on me, and offers to fly me to exotic places. Even if I had gone, he would have expected a show ( which I am not shy to put on) but my body would have been numb. The second offer was from someone more virile and somewhat more attractive.  We met in a sordid bath house in Cape Town. It was my first time in Cape town and decided to make the most of it. I remember watching two guys going at it like rabid dogs. Things stirred. All I had on was a towel and that tented. He walked up to me and asked to touch the tent. I coyly declined but I went on to start stroking myself while he watched. In a matter of seconds there was a small crowd watching. It didn’t bug me at all. No touching! If you were watching a movie in the theatre would you help Jackie Chan kick a villain? No! So sit down, calm your tits and eat your popcorn. He was persistent. The offer was 2000 Rand for him to finish what I had started. 2000 rand for a hand job! I have to put my laptop down to think about my life choices…Or maybe pay me to keep going…

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