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Gay Man lost in Prozac Park by Terry
 
March 2001
4Some history concerning this "faggot" Part I
5Some history concerning this "faggot" Part II
6Some history concerning this "faggot" Part III
7Some history concerning this "faggot" Part IV
8Some history concerning this "faggot" Part V
9Some history concerning this "faggot" Part VI
10Some history concerning this "faggot" Part VII
11Some history concerning this "faggot" Part VIII
12Some history concerning this "faggot" Part IX
13Some history concerning this "faggot" Part X
14Some history concerning this "faggot"" Part XI
15Some history concerning this "faggot" Part XII
16Some History concerning this "faggot" Part XIII
17Some history concerning this "faggot" Part XIV
18Some history concerning this "faggot" Part XV (Greg and I)
19My life with AT&T (Part XVI of my "faggot" life)
20My life with AT&T continues........(Part XVII of this "faggots" life)
21My Internet Sex Life (Some history concerning this "faggot" Part XVIII)
22My "sex" oriented trips last year (first there was Thailand)
23Sex in Prague
27Can a "friendship" grow out of "annoymous" sex with someone?


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March 2001

Some history concerning this "faggot" Part X
March 13, 2001

We are up to 1991 as this "queer" is getting more and more sexually frustrated. The gay bathhouses in Minneapolis are now closed by the health department. The adult bookstore where I had some of my most memorable sexual encounters with other guys have been forced out of business due to routine police raids by the cops. Minneapolis is not the "fun" place that it used to be. It's getting harder and harder for a "faggot" to have annoymous sex with a stranger. Sure, there's the park late at night but even that's getting difficult due to "gay bashers" and "plain clothes" policemen. In 1990 after I was "arrested" for sucking on a guy's dick in a movie booth I went through a "dry" spell where I just didn't have sex for several months. I was beginning to wonder if I would have sex ever again. Then I found the "phone lines" and we had one here in Minneapolis that wasn't too expensive. I would be drinking my "srewdrivers" in the privacy of my bedroom and calling the "phonelines" every Friday and Saturday night until the wee hours of the morning. I had some sex but not a lot. My obsession with meeting guys via the "phone lines" lasted from 1991 through 1993. Most of the guys that I met must not have had a lasting impression on me because I just don't remember them. There were a couple that stood out in my mind, tho:
John: He picked me up in his car one night. He was cuter than hell and was a hair dresser. I spent the night with him. Before going to sleep we both got "off" together and the next morning we had another hot "session" and we "jerked" each other off. He was excellent in the "french kissing" departnment and had a superb tongue. I was still working at the phone company and, ironically, he had an aunt who was an "account executive" and who I knew (but didn't really know). I always regretted not giving him my phone number because I would have liked to have seen him again.
Joe: I speak with this guy over the phone and he picks me up. It turns out that he works for the same company as I do and I see him everyday (he is a "secretary" for one of the "big wigs" at the phone company) but I never get the chance to speak to him. You see, I'm the mail clerk for this large telephone company and I deliver mail to his desk but never actually spoke to him. I didn't get to spend the evening with him (he didn't invite me to) but we did have a lot of "fun":
french kissing, rimmming, "gettinng off together". Just "fun" stuff. The next day when I saw him in the office I spoke with him and he playfully "flirts" with me. Let me tell you that I "suck" at "flirting". "Dancing" and "flirting" are the two things that I mainly "suck" at. What I lack in those two areas of my life I make up for it in that I'm very good in bed. Anyway, I leave a note on his desk in a sealed envelope that if he is ever interested I would like to see him again. He never responds and I'm disappointed. The one thing that I don't like about "tricking out" is that usually it's just for one night and that's about it (sometimes just for an hour).
My three years doing "phone line" kind of stuff wasn't too great. I guess I did it because it was better than nothing. But I never met many guys that way.
Ok,
while I continue being in "therapy" every week for "sexual addiction" (therapy obviously wasn't helping) and continueing to work for the phone company as a mail clerk and living a "double life" at night as this "horny" dude looking for annoymous sex with other guys I was still pursueing my other interest which is mainly "travel". I love traveling and because I got pretty good wages (even as a "mail clerk") at the telephone company I could afford to go abroad every year. By this time I had been to Europe 3 times and have visited 18 countries so far. I was bored with Europe and wanted to try South America so I was going there every fall for a month (or longer).
I went to Europe from 1981 through 1983. I started going to South America in 1984 to all of the main countries down there. Specifically, I went to beautiful Rio De Janeiro and I immediately fell in love with the city. I got a four star hotel right on Copacabana Beach for $40 a night. Prior to leaving I had bought myself a "Spartacus Guide" which lists gay places all around the world so I knew that there were plenty of "fun" places to go to in "Rio". One night I went to the end of Copacabana Beach in this section called "Galleria Alaska" to this gay disco/bar (that has since closed). Anyway, I went up there and I guess I was too early because the place was pretty empty. I waited around for a couple of hours and at 11 p.m. the guys started rolling in. Beautiful and gorgeous Brazilian guys. Later in the evening this shorter (but cute) guy kept staring at me and I knew instictively that he was interested in me. We talked and we agreed to go somewhere for sex. Where does one go for "sex" in Rio de Janeiro? To a "sex hotel", of course. Rio has dozens of those around the city. You have no idea where to go because they aren't listed as such. This dude that I was with knew where to go, tho. For a mere $5 you could get a cheap room and the room had "stains" on the walls and paint peeling and it was really a very "sleazy" type of room. We sucked each other and we ended up shooting our "load" over each other. We talked afterwards and I learned that he works as a flight attendant for Varig Brazilian Airlines. Hot Damn! I never had sex with a flight attendant before and certainly not a "foreign" one. He was incredibly hot.
The second time I went to the bar was a huge mistake. This young and thin dude pursued me and I thought I was going to get "laid" again. WRONG! We left the bar and we walked and walked and I thought we were going back to his place. We walked to this secluded area of the city where he and this other guy (who was hiding behind a bush) jumped me and robbed me of $20. Luckily they didn't hurt me. I thought I had learned my "lesson" about picking up strangers in a foreign country (a third world country nonetheless!) but I had not. I later found out that this bar is nortorious for "hustlers" who "prey" on foreign tourists pretending to want sex with them but "robbing" them instead.
Another time I went to that same section of Copacabana Beach where a lot of the male prostitues hung out and this time I decided I was going to "pay" money for hot sex. This dude was eyeing me so I eyed him back. He wan't that cute but he looked like he might be "fun" in bed. I asked him in Portuguese, "cuanto custa?" which means, "how much?" and he gave me the answer which is about the equivalent of 15 bucks (male "whores" were cheap in those days) so I agreed and we went to a "sex hotel" and I paid for the room. He wanted me to fuck him but I preferred to get on the bed and have him suck my "dick". He did and pretty soon I shot a "load" in his mouth and then he left momentarily to spit it out in the sink. We both got dressed and I paid him and he kept saying the portuguese word for "more" and I said in portuguese, "nada mas" which means "nothing more" and proceeded to run down the hall. I tripped, fell, with this male "whore" running after me. When I'm on the floor he proceeds to kick me over and over again in my stomache and tears are flowing down my face because of the pain. I get up and can't move my arm. This male "whore" tells these two female prostitutes (in portuguese) that I had not paid him (which I had). One of the female prostitutes speaks english and tells me that I have to pay this guy I was with or else, "there will be trouble". There is also the owner of this "sex hotel" sitting there with this male "whore", these two females prostitutes and myself. The owner of this "sex hotel" is a HUGE man who must weigh 350 to 400 pounds. When the female prostitute tells me that I must pay this male "hustler" or else, "there will be trouble" I assume that I will get beat up (or worst) so I pay the "whore" again. I take a cab back to my hotel but my right arm is completely "paralyzied" from that guy (the male "whore") jumping on me and kicking me. At the hotel I take a cab to a hospital which is kind of a "welfare" tyle hospital for poor people. I'm there all night. I'm in agonizing pain because my arm hurts so much.
I have a "dislocated" shoulder which they put back into place. I have to have my arm in a "sling" for a few weeks but I still continue on with my trip to other parts of the country. Let me tell you, carrying my suitcase with my left arm while my right arm is in a "sling" is no easy task. Looking back on it now, I wondered how I was able to do that. I guess my determination to finish out my trip that I have saved for all year long.
There was another time that my "encounter" with a Brazilian was more successful. I was in the city of Belem which is in the northern part of the country and is part of the "Amazon" region. I had gone to a "straight" disco with no intention of "hooking up" with anyone. I mean, how could I get together with a gay dude in a "straight" disco? Anyway, I went to this disco and somehow this guy's eyes and mine met. It must have been what they call, "gaydar". Thinking back, it was amazing that I met this gay guy in a "straight" disco in a foreign country with the language barrier and all. The guy was about 23 and didn't speak more than a very limitied words of English. Somehow, we did manage to communicate and ended up taking a cab to the run-down part of the city to this (you guess it!) "sex hotel". I paid the $5 for a room and we got undressed and he had holes in his underwear which really turned me on. I can't really explain it but it has always turned me on to have sex with someone "poor". He took off his underwear and he had the biggest "dick" I've seen in a long time. It was hard and it just hung there. It must have been around 8 or 9 inches in length. This guy had a kind of a small "frame" on him but he just happened to have a big "dick". He got on the bed with his legs up and made it cystal clear that he wanted me to "fuck" him which I was only too happy to do. I "fucked" him and withdrew and shot my "load" in his mouth. Fuck, was he hot!
I returned to Brazil year after year but I "abstained" from sex while I was there (even as "tempted" as I was) because Brazil is such a poor country and I decided the "risk" of the possibility of having sex with a hot Brazilian was too great. I was putting myself in "harm's way" by making the poor decision to pick up strangers (a poor Brazilian off the street who had less money than I did) for sex.
More later...........
 
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