Luv2play

Reminds me of what a late uncle of mine, who was a university professor, said once when commenting on the modern theatre,” I don’t much care for the theatre these days, it’s all about sex, violence and coarse language. I can get all that at home.”

Wow ??

Thank you for sharing that twitter link. ??

well now I don't need to subscribe to his OnlyFans page......seen all I need to see!

About 30 years ago I had a regular provider for the better part of a year with whom I was very happy. He was tall, blond, muscular and was a university student, almost finishing his studies. I can’t remember how I met him but we just clicked. I don’t even know how many clients he had but I think he just had mostly regulars like myself. He wasn’t inexpensive, in fact we started at $150 per hour and after several months he dropped it to $100, at his initiative.
 
Well, after he graduated he met a young doctor, who happened to be my family doctor. He was gay and had a large gay practice. My provider dropped me as a client and I suppose his other clients too but I never knew any of his other clients. Some time later, I went to Gay Pride in Montreal and who should come out of a building on the Main Street in the Gay Village, just as I was walking by, was this couple.
 
The doctor turned around to say hi to me and his new boyfriend, standing behind him, signalled me with his index finger pressed to his lips. So when the doctor turned around to introduce me to his new beaux, I played along and feigned ignorance of who he was. I remained on friendly terms with both and never revealed my relationship with the escort.

In Europe the French speaking gays use the term “salop”.

About 30 years ago I had a regular provider for the better part of a year with whom I was very happy. He was tall, blond, muscular and was a university student, almost finishing his studies. I can’t remember how I met him but we just clicked. I don’t even know how many clients he had but I think he just had mostly regulars like myself. He wasn’t inexpensive, in fact we started at $150 per hour and after several months he dropped it to $100, at his initiative.
 
Well, after he graduated he met a young doctor, who happened to be my family doctor. He was gay and had a large gay practice. My provider dropped me as a client and I suppose his other clients too but I never knew any of his other clients. Some time later, I went to Gay Pride in Montreal and who should come out of a building on the Main Street in the Gay Village, just as I was walking by, was this couple.
 
The doctor turned around to say hi to me and his new boyfriend, standing behind him, signalled me with his index finger pressed to his lips. So when the doctor turned around to introduce me to his new beaux, I played along and feigned ignorance of who he was. I remained on friendly terms with both and never revealed my relationship with the escort.

I saw an IG video of him giving an update on his condition a little over a week ago. He mentioned a new doctor he is seeing told him of his high chance of survival. It was such an emotional video, I cried along-side him.

About 30 years ago I had a regular provider for the better part of a year with whom I was very happy. He was tall, blond, muscular and was a university student, almost finishing his studies. I can’t remember how I met him but we just clicked. I don’t even know how many clients he had but I think he just had mostly regulars like myself. He wasn’t inexpensive, in fact we started at $150 per hour and after several months he dropped it to $100, at his initiative.
 
Well, after he graduated he met a young doctor, who happened to be my family doctor. He was gay and had a large gay practice. My provider dropped me as a client and I suppose his other clients too but I never knew any of his other clients. Some time later, I went to Gay Pride in Montreal and who should come out of a building on the Main Street in the Gay Village, just as I was walking by, was this couple.
 
The doctor turned around to say hi to me and his new boyfriend, standing behind him, signalled me with his index finger pressed to his lips. So when the doctor turned around to introduce me to his new beaux, I played along and feigned ignorance of who he was. I remained on friendly terms with both and never revealed my relationship with the escort.

Now that I’m old and basically don’t give AF, I would have no problem stopping to talk, even if I had someone else with me. I meet lots of people of all ages so I could always play it naturally.
 
There was a time, however, before I started hiring, when I had to keep my private life and public life separate. Once I was with my boss in a limo going to a hotel luncheon affair and we were sitting in lunch time traffic. I was briefing him on the business we were to conduct with a briefing book in my lap.
 
Suddenly from my left field of vision I saw the cute trick I had picked up the previous evening and taken home. He was about 23, Italian and cute as hell. He also liked to get fisted, which I obliged him, along with topping him even though I am usually the bottom.
 
Anyway, it was summer, and this free spirit walked in front of our car and glanced through the windshield as he crossed the street. I quickly raised the book in front of my face as if to examine some detail so that he would not see me and wave. What spurred me was his outfit. It was a hot summer day and he had on this tiny tank top stretched over his gorgeous torso, a ring in one ear and nifty cutoffs.
 
The moment passed quickly and I breathed a sigh of relief. I would have had a hard time explaining him to my boss.

Now that I’m old and basically don’t give AF, I would have no problem stopping to talk, even if I had someone else with me. I meet lots of people of all ages so I could always play it naturally.
 
There was a time, however, before I started hiring, when I had to keep my private life and public life separate. Once I was with my boss in a limo going to a hotel luncheon affair and we were sitting in lunch time traffic. I was briefing him on the business we were to conduct with a briefing book in my lap.
 
Suddenly from my left field of vision I saw the cute trick I had picked up the previous evening and taken home. He was about 23, Italian and cute as hell. He also liked to get fisted, which I obliged him, along with topping him even though I am usually the bottom.
 
Anyway, it was summer, and this free spirit walked in front of our car and glanced through the windshield as he crossed the street. I quickly raised the book in front of my face as if to examine some detail so that he would not see me and wave. What spurred me was his outfit. It was a hot summer day and he had on this tiny tank top stretched over his gorgeous torso, a ring in one ear and nifty cutoffs.
 
The moment passed quickly and I breathed a sigh of relief. I would have had a hard time explaining him to my boss.

Yes I guess we do take different things from this saga. I don’t recall he or anyone else say that he was a drug dealer. Angel was his dealer at the time of the murder.
 
I had a friend in Montreal, an older lady who was an antique dealer. She was born and raised in New York and helped her father in his antique business in Manhattan. One day she took an article to Warhol’s Factory to deliver it to him. He invited her in and she saw a bunch of his acolytes lying around stoned on drugs in the middle of the day. That was New York.
 
Another time I visited a friend in Manhattan during the 80s and was going to stay with him. When I got in from the airport, he had a gathering of friends sitting around a big coffee table in the living room. They were all snorting coke. He was an executive with one of the large TV networks. That was New York.
 
Another time I visited with my then boyfriend and we went to a friend’s apartment overlooking the East River. He had a senior job at the UN, working in the Secretary General’s office. He and his several friends all took drugs before we set off for The Saint. I satisfied myself with a vodka tonic, as I always do in these situations since I don’t take drugs.
 
I always accepted that these things were par for the course for many people living in the pressure cooker that is New York City. I doubt it has changed much from when I used to visit it more often.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

Actually, if you live alone and wake up in the middle of the night, there may not be the real thing anywhere near.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

Now that I’m old and basically don’t give AF, I would have no problem stopping to talk, even if I had someone else with me. I meet lots of people of all ages so I could always play it naturally.
 
There was a time, however, before I started hiring, when I had to keep my private life and public life separate. Once I was with my boss in a limo going to a hotel luncheon affair and we were sitting in lunch time traffic. I was briefing him on the business we were to conduct with a briefing book in my lap.
 
Suddenly from my left field of vision I saw the cute trick I had picked up the previous evening and taken home. He was about 23, Italian and cute as hell. He also liked to get fisted, which I obliged him, along with topping him even though I am usually the bottom.
 
Anyway, it was summer, and this free spirit walked in front of our car and glanced through the windshield as he crossed the street. I quickly raised the book in front of my face as if to examine some detail so that he would not see me and wave. What spurred me was his outfit. It was a hot summer day and he had on this tiny tank top stretched over his gorgeous torso, a ring in one ear and nifty cutoffs.
 
The moment passed quickly and I breathed a sigh of relief. I would have had a hard time explaining him to my boss.

Actually, if you live alone and wake up in the middle of the night, there may not be the real thing anywhere near.

I always thought the Like was for appreciating the content of the post, not the poster himself.

Actually, if you live alone and wake up in the middle of the night, there may not be the real thing anywhere near.

Yeah, it’s like cleaning the attic and the bedroom. Just in case someone goes there.

I love my set of Le Creuset. They are the kind of utensils you leave to someone in your will, as they will never wear out. Needless to say, they don't come cheap.

I know this is nit-picking but it's a quiet day. Men are blond and women are blonde. Of course they both must have yellow hair to qualify. LOL