Double Standards

My weekends right now are rather quiet. We've been doing a fair bit in the gym recently, and staying in to save a few pennies, in preparation for LazyBear. I know the implication is that the bears with be lazy, but from experience I know this not to be the complete story. There's just as much preening and muscle-bear attitude as at a Leather Megawoof.

Or Miss World.

Of course, we got a little stir-crazy on Saturday night so ended up at XXL once more. We're still not sure why we go there, but it's close to home and there's always plenty of people we know to chat to. Last Saturday was no exception; I finally plucked up the courage to talk to one of the more beautiful men in London and his equally lovely partner, and finally found out where his exotic looks come from - he hails from Iraq. So we had an unusual discussion on the dancefloor revolving around Saddam and gay culture in the Middle East, during which he kept pulling me to him to make himself heard, causing little shivers up my spine with every touch. Sigh.

Now, I don't "do" darkrooms. I just prefer being able to see what's going in my mouth. Before you question my double-standards, I don't really "do" The Hoist either, I just go because I can stand at the bar and chat whilst certain people go a-roaming. Sure I join in from time to time, but I have to be in the right mood. Anyway, The Boyf had noticed a rather lovely fellow going in and out of the XXL darkroom, apparently unable to find someone to his requirements. So with a cry of "Start exercising your mouth" The Boyf grabbed me and dragged me in after him. Unfortunately we were too late; a friend of ours - Tattoo - had grabbed the lovely man and was pawing at him. The Boyf, not to be disuaded, leaned in and said to Tattoo "Your boyfriend's looking for you".

"Shit! Really? He can't find me in here!", said Tattoo and bolted for the door.

Mr Lovely turned to The Boyf and thanked him for interrupting - he'd not been too keen on Tattoo, as it turned out - and with that locked lips with The Boyf, paying me and my limbered up mouth no attention at all.

During this time a small Greek tried to force himself upon me, and I was just deciding whether to let him have his way when Mr Lovely suddenly came up for air, looked round, realised I was there too and with a "Hmmmm. Yum!" pushed me back against a wall and snogged my face off. Sometime later I ended up on my knees (as ever) and then the man came. After a bit more snogging he bid me farewell and left.

The Boyf was stood close by.

OMO: "Where were you?"

The Boyf: "I didn't get a look in. You were locked together. I had to make do with a small Greek chap..."

As we walked out of the darkroom we bumped into Mr Lovely getting his coat.

OMO: "Fancy coming back to ours for some more?"

Mr Lovely: "Sorry, I need to get home and get some sleep. I'm going to see Barbra Streisand tomorrow".

And with that he left.

"You know," I said to The Boyf, "he's just completely ruined my illusion. Although of course I'd like to see Barbra too. Anyway, that trick with Tattoo was rather mean".

"Yeah, especially since his boyfriend is down the end of the darkroom getting fucked by all and sundry".

Ah, double standards...