Julian LeMont

It all started out so romantically – when I first met my Mexican boyfriend and we were just about to fall madly in love – we decided to go out together on a Wednesday night before Thanksgiving – to what may be among the least romantic gay venues in Sin City, the infamous Underwear Night at the Las Vegas EAGLE at the corner of Tropicana and Pecos. We were fortunately so into each other, we hardly even noticed the tragic drunk trolls in their underwear surrounding us – and we soon sought some quieter surroundings but could not go anywhere else, as he still lived with relatives and I was staying with friends. So we decided to move our romantic date into his car and, for some quiet and solitude, decided to drive into a small dead-end alley just off Pecos Rd. behind the Eagle. It was the perfect venue for some love-making, as there were no houses at the end of the alley, the area was poorly lit and no cars ever passed by here. Since then this place had always been attached to the very memory of my first act of love-making there for many years to follow.

In the aftermath of our painful break-up several years later, I often kept thinking about the special back-alley venue and figured it would help my emotional recovery to reenact as often and passionately as possible the very scenes of my first adventure there. So following several fun nights out at the Eagle for Underwear Night drowning my sorrow in free drinks & cheap company, I wound up on that very spot in the far back of the dead-end alley engaging in wild frolicky sex with different studs that I met in the course of the evening. Of course, none of my dates would ever be able to properly live up to the memory of my “first time” there with my ex-boyfriend. Yet several hot young latinos at least were able to give me good poundings in the back of our cars while whispering sweet love talk in Spanish to me – “ay papi, más, por favor, no pares….” Some dates also flopped and made me feel worse about the memory of this special location, which then made me go back for even more, to try to make up for it.

This pattern continued over a period of several years – until I finally had one encounter in particular that sex-wise was able to totally cure my blues and give me the new memory for this place I had always longed for. His name was James and he was a handsome muscular black instructor at our local Las Vegas Athletic Club. Before our date, I had on many occasions admired his huge snake of a black bulge under the showers, and the liking was mutual, as every time James set eyes on my body, the snake showed signs of life that were hard to hide in the showers of LVAC. The mutual flirtation continued over weeks and months – until we finally chatted on adam4adam.com and made arrangements to meet for coffee. As we were drooling over each other’s sexual aura during a late-night Latte, my thought wondered back to the special back alley – not far from our coffee date. And so once again I found myself 20 minutes later in the very same spot off Pecos Rd behind the infamous Eagle.

This time though, was different, as his huge black bulge kept me distracted so much, I could not even think of past memories. His snake turned so enormous, no human mouth could ever take it all at once. It also had the right thickness and perfect downside curve to make for maximum pleasure. When things heated up to the max, I was finally able to welcome the snake inside of me. Little did I know what pleasures awaited me. It was that extra inch of pleasure that made me forget all previous pains – whenever my mind wanted to wander off to the past, he pushed it in just a little bit further and had me moaning in pleasure in the back of his SUV. It was just what the doctor ordered – after he released 2 gigantic loads from his thick black snake and I equally came in pleasure, I finally for once felt cured from the curse of previous memories attached to the back alley. It was a true case of sexual healing at its best. The effect was so special and lasting, and our mutual pleasure so great, we have since met regularly in different venues to further strengthen our unique sexual bonds.And needless to say, since then I have never thought of the back alley quite the same way, and nowadays pass it with a smile of satisfaction and pleasure, whenever I drive past it on my way to the infamous Eagle for Underwear Night.