Naughty Kristoffe confesses all and anticipates a fun Summer to come.
I have never thought of myself as a particularly naughty person. After all, I am a happy member of a generation that has no problems experiencing the joys of gay liberation. We were surely always going to be would be tempted, tempted to explore possibilities previously limited by social attitudes, now mainly discredited.
So don’t we all, just occasionally, focus a bit too exclusively on the issue of the next fuck? Haven’t we all, at one time or another, come home from a party in the company of the host’s boyfriend, or worse, enjoyed him in the host’s bedroom while the sound system below drowned his cries of joy and demands for more?
Well, okay, maybe my natural warmth, admitted impulsiveness and apparent good looks have taken me to a few places where others might fear to tread. But I don’t recall too many broken hearts or too much smashed crockery from this life of marginal decadence.
My life has generally followed a well-planned path. My travel business does well, creating appropriate excuses to jet off regularly to exotic locations where the time-blessed principal of the guy in every airport can be put into contemporary practice. Yes, I know it’s more usually the principal of the girl in every port. But this is the year 2010 and nautical analogies need to move with the times just like all the others do, don’t they?
Technology, of course, is the key. God bless America for just one thing: the Internet. Here is this amazing communication tool that, in seconds, puts before you, the searcher, a huge selection of boys or girls, men or women and enables you to handpick those with whom you might want to establish a dialogue, all helpfully categorised by every imaginable criterion.
Of course, age, location and interests are there on tap. But it is truly helpful to confirm, even ahead of the first email contact, that Magic 28 is indeed 28, and, more importantly “seeking men for anything.” When his specific preferences are then revealed to embrace “oral, anal and experimental”, it marks the end of the need to hang around in noisy bars, yelling inanities above the deafening music only to discover at the pivotal moment that your mooted top is a bottom.
Yes, the Internet has made possible a world of instant contact, of friendships formed in seconds across continents at the click of a button, relationships made possible that would have been, in the years B.H., before Hotmail, unthinkable. Welcome, then, to your own network of actual or potential lovers, none of them strangers, many of them confidants, all of them united in the hope that you will, one day, insert yourself into their real lives. And, if the photographs have not lied, soon enjoy them inserting themselves into your famously cute and willing bottom.
A process of natural selection asserts itself, creating a First and Second Division The First fills up with both the most articulate, I mean the ones whose facebook posts or private emails are as amusing as they are erotic, plus the most desirable, the ones whose attached photographs inspired stimulating daydreams and a burst of pre-cum in the Calvin Kleins. The Second Division is the home of the fallbacks, perhaps linguistically limited, probably less beautifully defined. But if Magic 28 happened to be otherwise engaged when you landed at Jakarta airport, it’s just good planning to have other options, right?
For more of Kristoffe’s indiscreet revelations, look forward to next month’s Part 2.
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