Julian LeMont

Erotic and sexual fulfillment, the adult entertainment industry wants to make us believe, is a matter of instant gratification. We all know the plot lines and settings too well – pent-up sexual energies get released at the right moment involving the right players and venues. With its focus on graphic detail and instant effect, the end result is an ideal tale of erotic fulfillment and, if well choreographed, one of graphic cinematic perfection and to some extent, artistic beauty. Some of the most powerful real life stories of erotic desire and fulfillment, however, span a longer time line and thus do not lend themselves towards gay pornographic interpretation. They can be just as sexually intense, graphic, beautiful and overall even more rewarding and fulfilling. And as often the case with life-changing personal encounters, their impact lasts for a lifetime and their storyline ultimately defies closure, leaving open the possibility for yet further erotic and personal fulfillment at some point in the future.

The story of JAREK is a case in point – years ago when he was still young, living at home with his family in Bratislava, we had touched base, instantly liked each other and met for the first time on one of my many visits to the Slovak Capital with tour groups. The initial encounters with Jarek read like the script of Bel Ami movies, involving some of the very same venues even. The first time I set eyes on him while visiting Bratislava Castle with my group. He was leaning over the wall to watch the panorama of the Danube and high-rise buildings of the Petrzalka neighborhood below – a unique site of a communist-era legacy still visible today and with its own kind of stark beauty.

His own beauty stood out from far away- a slender, muscular, toned and astonishingly handsome Slovak stud in his early 20s, he looked like a Bel Ami model waiting for my arrival. I could hardly concentrate on my tour group and then chatted with him, making arrangements to talk more later, both at the SLAVIN war memorial – featured in an intense roller blading scene in one of Bel Ami’s early movies- and then later downtown in front of the Slovak National Theater. With each moment we spent together, our attraction grew further, leading to highly erotic exchanges of looks, gestures and words. We both knew it had to happen. While I had a few hours of free time in the inner city of Bratislava, we walked around, and when noone was near, strolled through the small cobble stone lanes hand in hand almost entirely unobserved by other pedestrians. When we reached a really remote part of the inner city and had not seen anyone for a few minutes, a small bay opened up in the back of 2 houses, Jarek pushed me in the corner and started ripping my clothes off and going down on me. The intense passion and highly erotic moment lasted for about 5 minutes during which we were able to explore each other to the max, until voices and steps could be heard nearby and we had to stop. That was the first and only time, I experienced JAREK in his home town Bratislava, as he then moved on to Prague, as so many gay Slovak boys tend to do, and embarked on a successful dancing career.

We stayed in touch during the time of his move, and about 9 months later when I came through Prague on one of my many travels, decided to meet again at PALMOVKA metro station near his apartment. The timing was perfect, as he was home alone and his boyfriend at the time was abroad for business. When we saw each other following this absence of several months, the attraction became even stronger. I basked in his strong now more independent and less boyish sex appeal. His body looked more muscular from the dancing and he wore only casual shorts with a tank top, revealing his hot torso and huge throbbing cock. Once at his apartment, we drank Czech BECHEROVKA, watched OCKO TV, czech music television, and before long, embarked on a long passionate night of love making, but without going for it all. I tend to be more introverted and take things as they come, usually happily playing along with whatever my partner feels comfortable with. And in this case, it was hot firy passion, our first night together and erotically highly rewarding following months of pent-up desire and longing. Yet there were more intense times in store for us yet to discover. We then showered together following several explosive orgasms, and slashed body lotion on each other afterwards, the scent of which I shall always associate with my Slovak hunk.

So I stayed with him the whole night, but even such moments of total bliss can have second thoughts and side effects, as I noticed him pensive and slightly resentful the next morning. When I asked him what the matter was, he started crying and said he hates cheating on his boyfriend (open or monogamous was something they had never talked about) and besides, is confused, as he also likes and sleeps with girls. I knew he was not rejecting me personally, as our attraction was tangible, real and powerful. So I decided to withdraw for a while to give him time to think, kissing him goodbye with the words that he should not be too hard on himself.

Another long period went by without us seeing each other. We both moved on, had boyfriends and lovers, his dance career took off in Prague, and I had been travelling more than ever. Yet we never forgot about each other, and occasionally touched base trying to arrange a reunion. It took us almost those 2 years however, until I happened to be once again in Prague around Christmas time, and he had just finished dancing in a show and was getting ready to leave for Slovakia to see his family for the holidays. Following dinner with some of the girls from his show, all over him being the hot Slovak stud he was with the dancer body, he branched off to see me at my Prague hotel, overlooking the VLTAVA river and Prague Castle with St. Vitus Cathedral illuminated at night. It was a magical, unforgettable moment, when after 2 years of not tasting his lips, licking his body and feeling his huge cock, we finally had a christmas celebration worth remembering for a lifetime. And this time, more assertive, sexual, masculine and studly as ever, we went on our most steamy and wild night of love making yet, licking every inch of each other’s muscular bodies and pounding each other passionately for hours. Finally, I felt his huge throbbing cock inside of me – leaving me begging for more – and feeling the effect of it for days as a pleasant soreness in my rear – a great christmas gift and reminder.

The following year, we saw each other once again in Prague with the same passion, desire, attraction and fulfillment, but he then opened up to me and said he was getting ready to move to London – as he does not see any future for his dancing career in Prague. I knew this meant losing him for good – and I also knew instantly he would be able to make it big in London, as he was stunningly beautiful and highly talented as a dancer. Since then I have been on the sidelines following his whereabouts, success and tribulations from a distance in an erotic story that still lacks true closure. In this ongoing scenario I feel attraction and erotic love with a touch of longing for the unattainable, yet can truly feel blessed and grateful for such intense moments of true Bi Boy bliss over such a long period of time with one of the hottest Slovak studs ever on this planet. So unlike what most porn movies like to suggest, true erotic longing and fulfillment, I learnt, is not a matter of instant gratification, but takes time to build, develop, mature and play itself out resulting in unique memories of a lifetime.

When it comes to great sex, Spain tops…or bottoms best, whichever one’s sexual preference. The insatiable and life-affirming nature of Spanish guys has often given me great pleasure and gotten me into great trouble. In my experience, Spanish guys have been along with Hungarians, Slovaks and a few more among the best sex partners anyone could hope for. So needless to say, I decided long ago to regularly spend time in Spain and make Alicante on the Mediterranean one of my part-time bases. The area around Alicante boasts near-perfect weather and many superb nude beaches, including several frequented by gay locals. Particularly EL REBOLLO beach near Santa Pola, EL ALTET beach near Alicante airport and RACO DE CONILL (“Rabbit’s Corner”) near Benidorm are scenically magnificent and great places to meet and mate with locals.

One late summer we decided to head to EL ALTET beach about 10 minutes south of Alicante. It was a hot sunny summer day, and both visitors and locals alike took advantage of the last days of summer vacation to soak up the sun and enjoy the beach before resuming their normal work lives by early September. The whole Costa Blanca was suffering from a heat wave, and during the hot lunchtime hours, hardly anyone dared to go outside but prefered to have siesta in airconditioned rooms. So everyone was mostly heading to the beach after 4pm when the heat and sun were less intense and swimming in the Mediterranean is best. During the summer months several beach bars were set up, called “chiringays” inviting for drinks and snacks – perfect venues to enjoy the chill-out period just before dusk.

After a late afternoon cocktail at the local Chiringay “Mykonos” we headed over the stretch of nude beach mostly frequented by gay locals and set up base right at the center of activity. The area was packed with sun worshippers of all ages, types and likes. My eyes DID meet with several sexy local boys, an indication of pleasures to come. And so we spent the late afternoon and evening frolicking into and out of the water, reading, listening to music and people watching. Occasionally, acquaintances stopped by for a chat or invited us to play beach ball. So hours of timeless beach delight went by without us looking at the watch – a real sign that we can finally relax and unwind.

During our stay at the beach, I decided to take several walks along the sea shore itself and to nearby dunes. I already noticed the dunes were quite “busy” with guys looking for fun, but most tend to be older and overweight. As I walked along the beach itself, my eyes met with a handsome Spaniard in his mid-20s playing beach ping pong with his friends. We both smiled instantly basking in each other’s sex appeal and could not help but stare, to the entertainment of his friends who instantly noticed. Later as I took another walk towards the dunes listening to trance music, I noticed my Spanish stud waiting for me already at the edge of the bushes. What was to follow ranks among the hottest encounters I’ve had in years, as we savoured each other’s bodies greedily in the nearby shrubs. One MUST have a touch of porn talent or at least exhibitionist tendencies, because 2 hot guys in the dunes means an instant audience of at least 10 or more onlookers. Often one must push them away, as they do not contend themselves with just watching. We fortunately were so into each other sucking and licking each other, we hardly noticed the group of almost 15 guys that formed around us. We DID want more – both of us – and that was something to savor in more privacy.

So we left the main part of the dunes to head further uphill to a set of abandoned houses with individual half-open rooms but walled up enough to prevent viewing or access by others. I could not help but think of Simon Angel, my all-time favorite Spanish TOP, pounding my favorite twinky bottom Jeremy Jordan in the great outdoors. Although in that movie,”Manly Heat – Scorched” , it looked more like they were screwing in the Nevada desert, my frolicky Mediterranean outdoor pleasure was similarly hot and esthetically pleasing. As my Spanish hunk’s thick uncut cock pounded me inside the ruined building overlooking the ocean during the early hours of sunset, the Spanish heatwave porn scenario could not have been more complete. At the door to our abandoned room guys were looming to catch a glance of us in action, but could barely see my Spanish stud from behind, the rest remained for our eyes only.

Following timeless moment of passionate pounding, I was then able to look deep into my stud’s dark latin eyes, as his thick throbbing cock jolted and he shot a load so far and impressive, it will stay engrained in my mind forever. My sexual ideal has always be one of “SEXO CON ALMA”, sex with depth and meaning – preferably with someone I care about and would enjoy being with regularly. Yet such guys are few and hard to find – so in the meantime I can infuse my sex with meaning by savoring it as consciously and graphically as possible – to have each and every scene of my own personal porn esthetically captured in memory forever. So after both of us came in passionate pleasure, we laughed, kissed and rushed back to the beach to wash off any evidence of our private heatwave porn scenario in the dunes near Alicante above the Mediterranean Sea.

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.

I just returned home to Hungary after a long summer abroad. My body was in pain from carrying bags across Europe for 2 months and I was eager for some much needed R&R. No better place than to head to our local Club and get a good massage along with some nice sauna and steam. I decided to go there on a Saturday night, which tends to be much more quiet than Sundays for instance, especially after 9pm, when most get ready to head out to the clubs. I too was going to meet friends for drinks, but not until midnight – so I had a bit of time to relax. I was greeted at the club by a smiling Gábor even more warmly than usual, since I had been away most of the summer. I was told it was quiet, but there were some “cute tourists” around. Again, I replied I mostly came for the rest and relaxation, scheduled my massage and disappeared in the sauna.

About half way through my second round, my eyes met with a hunky tall blond guy with blue eyes, and his dark-haired boyfriend – both so different, they certainly could not be from Hungary. Both athletically built and superbly endowed, they radiated a warmness and kindness hard to find in Central Europe. Andrus & Kristjan, as was their name, were visiting far away from Tallin, Estonia and stayed in Budapest for a few days following their beach vacation in Croatia. Among the great benefits of Budapest has always been its attraction to many visitors from all over Central and Eastern Europe. Hardly elsewhere can one meet such handsome variety of hunks from anywhere between the Baltics and the Balkans.

As we were basking in our mutual sexual attraction, we could barely keep our eyes and hands off each other, and following a cold shower, drink and chat, started frolicking all around the Club together. Yet Andrus & Kristjan had relatively early dinner dates with local friends, so we were not able to spend nearly as much time together as we had hoped for, but made plans to meet again the following day or Monday.

Early that week it so happened that I had an internet friend visiting me from Poland. A slender toned tall blond boy in his early twenties, MIRO only spoke Polish and hailed from a small town in the countryside East of Warsaw – I had met him before through a mutual friend in Poznan, and we knew we liked each other lots. Also, he came with the pent-up sexual energies only a boy from the repressed country side could have – eager to live out his wildest gay fantasies with me in Budapest.

Shortly after his arrival, we dropped off his luggage at my downtown appartment and were just getting for our first round, when the phone rang and Andrus & Kristjan were calling to arrange for a meeting. After all it was their last day in Budapest, and upon my recommendation they had visited the main sights, both gay and straight, and were eager to see me goodbye in style before their departure. It was a cooler overcast day, so I suggested heading to RUDAS – our famous homo-erotic Turkish bath from the 17th century. The thought of going there with my 2 sexy Estonians and hot Pole got me hard immediately – and everyone liked the idea and agreed.

So later that afternoon I wound up in the thermal waters of RUDAS with my studly Pole and my 2 hunky Estonians – it was a sight to remember. During men-only days, we may recall, all men only wear skimpy loin cloths, and they barely cover the most important bits – but that was hard to hide, as not only were all 4 of us pretty well-endowed but the homoerotic set-up got all of us rock hard – and everyone else noticed. So soon after our arrival, we were surrounded by curious onlookers getting a bit too close for comfort. We all were basking in the extra attention but tried to be discreet. Andrus & Kristjan took a liking to Miro immediately, and speaking in a mix of Russian and Polish, were able to communicate as well. Throughout our time at Rudas, we went from one pool to another to the dry sauna and on to the steam room, basking in each other’s sexual aura and waiting for the right moment to act on it.

Relaxed yet visibly aroused, we left Rudas and headed to Andrus & Kristjan’s hotel room at the Marriott downtown overlooking the Danube and Buda Hill – and here were able to release all the pent-up energy we had so long suppressed. Blond hunky Andrus had the thickest and hardest cock I have ever encountered, giving both Miro and myself a true piece of Estonia to remember. Andrus was also the most insatiable and active of all of us, taking eager turns in pounding all 3 of us. At 24, his sexual energy was at a prime, and throughout the night came about 5 times. Dark-haired Kristjan was more versatile, and Miro and I also took turns on him. The true highlight though was having both Kristjan and Miro inside of me, after thick Andrus prepared me for it. Feeling a hot Pole and studly Estonian deep inside of me while overlooking the Danube and the Buda Hill, made our Baltic passion in Budapest complete for me once and for all. Since then I cannot help but think of the Baltics and my passionate encounter whenever I see the Marriott hotel on the Danube Embankment in Budapest!

In recent years Bulgaria has increasingly become popular for western visitors, particularly since the country’s unexpected admission to the European Union in 2007. Since then, trade and tourism have been booming, particularly along the scenic coastline of the Black Sea. Despite such promising developments, life for the average Bulgarian is still full of economic hardship, corruption and mismanagement. And inspite of Bulgaria’s joining the EU, views towards ethnic and sexual diversity are still prejudiced and discriminatory. So many a gay Bulgarian boy has had to turn his back to seek economic fortune and sexual fulfillment in more tolerant affluent societies abroad. Gradually, however, the climate for gays and lesbians in Bulgaria is improving, and particularly in urban areas such as Sofia, Plovdiv and Varna, a sizeable gay community has grown with local web portals such as www.gepime.com catering to a new generation of young Bulgarians ready to leave a past of communism and corruption behind and sexually explore their way forward towards a better, sexually more diverse future.

As I was preparing to spend a late summer along the Bulgarian Black Sea coast, I touched base with some local guys and was profoundly impressed by their open sexual views and handsome looks with endless sexy profiles on gepime.com. My gateway was the seaside town of Varna. Bulgaria’s third largest and among its most beautiful cities. It is also known as the summer capital of Bulgaria, boasting superb weather, a gorgeous coastline along the Black Sea as well as beautiful buildings and landscaped parks in a well-planned downtown. Among my local contacts, a studly, young, dark-blond Varna boy stood out with a great muscular body, soft slightly Slavik facial features and strong sex appeal. We met at the famous orthodox cathedral downtown and took an instant liking to each other. The attraction was so tangible and real, as we basked in each other’s sexual aura and strolled together down Varna’s pedestrian zone, stopping for coffee at HAPPY, Bulgaria’s version of TGIF (www.happy.bg). We then continued towards PRIMORSKI PARK near the coastline, and as our day went on, found ourselves tempted time and again to fool around a bit somewhere in the park but at a safe distance from families and other visitors there. It was mostly innocent bantering, though, as we did not want to get caught by anyone, and even less by local authorities, for engaging in sexual behavior in public. We agreed to meet again later that night following his classes in economics and after my own dinner plans with local friends.

My dining buddies, a handsome Bulgarian and his German boyfriend, were pleasantly surprised when I mentioned my afternoon experience, as they had never heard of IVO, my studly Bulgarian, and expressed concern he may be another prototypical closet case. After all, so many locals tend to repress their true sexual selves out of fear of homophobia. My friends were right – when Ivo contacted me later, he was visibly embarrassed about coming to meet me in a packed public bar downtown, and even more so in the presence of my two other friends. When he arrived, he shyly glanced around the bar and quickly suggested we leave. The rest went extremely well, needless to say, as once settled in my hotel room at the infamously cruisy downtown CHERNO MORE Hotel with splendid views from my balcony, my young studly Bulgarian and I made out for hours at perfect ease with each other. Nothing could have been more perfect – I was fortunate enough to get a spacious corner room at the highest floor, and noone could see us on my balcony as we started out exploring each other to the max both inside and outside on the balcony for a true taste of cultural exchange. The backdrop of Varna at night, the port lights and the Black Sea made for a perfect setting for a for our real-life Bulgarian porn fantasy- as both of us fully devoured each other’s toned muscular bodies, took turns pounding each other and several times exploded in passion.

Later that night, however, Ivo got dressed and left, as his family expected him back home and he did not want to raise suspicion. We made plans to see each other upon my return to Varna after my other stops on the Black Sea, Nessebar, Sozopol and Burgas. Yet his odd behaviour did not stop there, as I was soon to find out. A few days before my return to Varna I contacted him on-line and he wrote back that, although our attraction was real, he could only be “gay for pay”, being a poor student in a homophobic society – so “next time you must pay, baby”. I was in shock and disappointed, wondering how someone can first enjoy such an amazing time with someone, only to degrade the whole thing to a free-sample screw before the meter kicks in. I replied he obviously must have paid good attention to his course work on Bulgarian Economics and never heard from him again. My local friends in Varna were not surprised, common as such behaviour is all around Eastern Europe and the Balkans with such economic hardship and homophobia.

With every visit to Varna and encounter with local boys I have had since then, basking in the memory of my erotic first-hand taste of Bulgarian culture, I have been slowly able to build a sense of closure, increasingly at peace with myself and what happened. With every view of the port and cathedral of Varna illuminated at night I feel and trust that all we did was genuine and true. At least my actions were, and I felt so were his. Yet often it is hard to shake off where we are from and how we grow up, culturally, socially and sexually. And we then often wind up as our own worst enemies. Standing on my hotel balcony with views of the Black Sea and the Varna skyline at night, I then made a vow to celebrate the genuine, seize it for good and make it shine. And many times since then, I have been consciously and passionately celebrating what is true and genuine in every encounter, both in Bulgaria and beyond.

Living in Hotel rooms can get lonely – most traveling for a living will attest to that. And most would agree it is by far more comforting to have a nice warm body to snuggle up with. And whenever that nice warm body happens to be a sexy young hung stud – even better! So I have made it a point to try to spend as few lonely nights as possible and savor local culture everywhere to the max. Yet often, it may not be quite as easy to have a sexy someone come and stay over, as hotel staff may be rather vigilant or the lobby may be full of unwanted elements and obstacles en route to our coital overnight bliss. It does take some ingenuity at times to smuggle in that hot local stud – but the rewards are priceless – encounter, engagement and exchange of the best human variety.

Before I made Budapest, Hungary my home, I very often stayed at hotels there, often adding many extra nights on my own, as I enjoyed the laid-back nature of the city, not to mention the passionate hospitality of the Hung-arians. I already had a bit of reputation at some of our standard hotels, as staff smiled at me in a combination of disbelief, envy and bewilderment at the parade of handsome local studs walking in and out of my hotel rooms there. Mind you, they were very often the same guys on repeated visits, as I did and still do enjoy personally enriching encounters apart from the obvious snuggling skills of my overnight guests.

On some occasions, however, hotel staff were far less supportive or tolerant, and smuggling dates into my room turned out somewhat more tricky. I vividly recall my wonderful young Czech boyfriend FILIP I was dating for quite some time, and trying to smuggle him into the Mövenpick hotel in Prague’s Smichov district. The hotel consists of two parts, with the up-scale business section located on a hill connected to the main building by a cable car. Often the wait at the cable car may be long, and guests using it may be observed on both ends by other visitors and staff alike -not a good combination for date smuggle. We finally managed to have Filip stay with me every night by dressing him up in similar clothes as the restaurant wait staff – making him look like a waiter on room service delivery – when all he delivered to me was his fantastic huge throbbing Czech cock – and a marvelous series of passionate nights together. The role play really turned us on too – when he knocked on the door and said “room service” and I opened wearing nothing but a skimpy towel. The Czech hotel porn scenario could not have been more complete.

Another time, my studly Russian friend MAX wanted to overnight with me at my hotel in Berlin, where he studied at the university, but the reception happened to be right next to the elevators and the room key card must be used to activate them. So we had him deliver a Pizza and I went down to meet him without raising suspicion. The lobby was teaming with guests that I did NOT want to bump into -. so the set-up was perfect. This was by far one of the hottest and potentially riskiest hotel room maneuvers- as we got to my room, we tossed the pizza into a corner and ripped each other’s clothes off. Max had the stature of a Russian gymnast with a muscular defined upper body, gorgeous butt cheeks and a perfectly-sized thick uncut cock. So much more handsome and personable than any picture could ever capture, he embarked with me on a night to remember. We wound up munching on the lukewarm pizza at some time around 2:30 am, when all the passionate sex got us hungry. There are few guys that inspire true versatility in us – we always tend towards one side or another – but with the right stud and the greatest amount of personal liking and physical attraction, we can be genuinely versatile all the way. It is a reliable indicator of the perfect match.

So Smuggle & Snuggle has been my life in Hotelandia – and I never look at another empty hotel room with sadness or solitude – I see it as a great opportunity to smuggle another sexy, sweet and personable local stud into my room, right to my bed and into my life.

“Las personas que buscan el placer, nunca lo encontrarán, porque el placer tiende a acumular sus exigencias a cada paso, y los que lo buscan acaban doblemente desdichados”

“Those seeking pleasure will never find it, as pleasure tends to become more demanding with every step, and those who always seek it will wind up twice as unfulfilled”

It was here in Valencia that I first came across catalan author Terenci Moix’s insightful words and learned their true meaning. Because nowhere else in Europe is there such a human propensity towards excess and unbridled pleasure as in the Mediterranean region of Spain, the famous LEVANTE. In many an area of life, the Spanish character tends to seek limitless excess, with the excuberant fire works for Valencia’s famous FALLAS festival starting even weeks before the actual event. In late February already, I could hear fire crackers in the streets and twice weekly “MASCLETAS”, fire cracker extravaganza, were held at the Plaza del Ayuntamiento in downtown Valencia. So while Spain’s third largest city maintained a civilized air of bourgeois affluence, underneath the thin veneer of civilization looms a deep dark abyss for the compulsive and insatiable.

The fire works display is only an innocent illustration, because the same excuberance can be found in all other areas of life, including the region’s rampant drug problems and the sexual excesses of gay locals. On several occasions, I personally witnessed some addicts so affected by drug abuse, they lay extended on the sidewalk in front of Valencia’s train station, where an abundance of Bulgarian street boys gather daily in search for clients. Or on another occasion, I saw a drugged street person pulling his pants down in broad daylight to take a dump in the median of Valencia’s prestigious MARQUES DE TURIA Boulevard during rush hour. Not to mention when a police car escorted me to the notorious BARRIO CHINO behind the Central Market Hall, after my wallet was pick-pocketed from the nearby CARMEN entertainment district. It is here in the “chinese quarter”, where on filthy alleyways the low-lives of society congregated and drugs, disease, crime, death and prostitution converged. It was like among the worst scenes from a bad Almodovar movie.

Turning to matters of gay sex, there were also numerous dark and dirty outlets that loomed for those so inclined, bringing us close again to the very limits of pleasure. At that time, I lived with a girl from Ivory Coast and a handsome guy from Colombia, who had been travelling around the globe with a Latin multimillionaire as his “personal secretary”, whatever role that may imply. Carlos, as was his name, was highly fascinated by the local gay escort and prostitution scene, as he had facilitated his boss many a rent boy in places such as Cuba, with its famous “pingueros” or Brazil during Carnaval with its infamous “garotos de programa”. So Carlos and I frequently hung out together exploring Valencia’s gay sexual limits, which we found out, did not exist. Instead we wound up observing and at times savoring every sexual excess available. So there were occasional visits to Valencia’s infamous “ADÁN” gay escort bathhouse, where I wound up having passionate sex with a gay barbie-doll like Valenciano escort who pretended to be Cuban for the sexual aura it generated, and we both wondered in retrospect who would be paying whom. Then we spent night after night in the city’s TURIA park cruising locals, escorts and shadows, enjoying many an outdoor cumshot with handsome young Spaniards horny and eager to get off. And last but not least, we went on average twice a week, Thursdays and Sundays, to the local club sauna “EL PUERTO” where we found plentiful sexual outlets with handsome young locals and visitors alike.

This routine took on a momentum of its own, whereby we almost had to self-identify as gay in Valencia only IF and WHEN we did our weekly sauna visits, cruising rounds and nights in the escort bars. I never paid for sex, and never sold myself either – but the whole circuit had its own dynamic appeal few could remain impervious to. And although personal encounters shaped many a visit, and I still fondly recall SERGIO I so fell in love with and had many a time sex with at the sauna and at home, the entire routine became increasingly anonymous, unfulfilling and devoid of pleasure.

The worst case scenario took place on a Sunday at our sauna club around the FALLAS festival, when hundreds of thousands of visitors were in town for the festivities and the lines at the club went out the door. Each and every one of the 500+ lockers at the club was occupied, and the place was jampacked with guys, hot and ugly, young and old, locals and visitors alike. There was one “jack-pot”, however, and he as a studly drop-dead gorgeous Brazilian Go-Go Dancer, who had often appeared at our local club VENIAL, and who had the pleasure of meeting and mating with him? none other than JULIAN. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear as we engaged in passionate kisses and he started pounding me with his magnificent huge throbbing Latin uncut cock – and yet, I was numb and felt nothing. I did not even get hard. And it was then that I noticed, the limits of pleasure were reached, surpassed and what looms behind it is burn-out, depression and loneliness.

Yet I was fortunate enough to pull back just in time, before the vicious circle of unbridled sex, burn-out and compulsion could take over and drag me down for good. I made alternative plans to leave Valencia, travel more, get away and date a guy for a while, which helped me restore my integrity and regain joy and pleasure, acutely aware of when and where to stop before matters turn around. And in line with Terenci Moix’s wisdom above, I have truly learned that we cannot regain our innocence, since its combination of ignorance and immaturity is something lost once and for all, but we are always and at any point capable of restoring our own integrity.

Throughout my many travels the world over, I have always wanted to savor and experience the local – local culture, lifestyle and men. So no matter where the wind has taken me, even in the most touristy venues, I have been able to observe and take part in local life. My regular visits to Cyprus have been no exception – eager as I have been to experience all that the third largest island in the Mediterranean has to offer. During my maiden voyage there, I flew into Larnaca, rented a car and booked a local hotel – and set out to explore the island from there. Crossing the Green Line in Nicosia from the Greek side to the “Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus” was a unique experience – not to mention the daily life in Northern Cyprus, a “country” running on gambling and prostitution happily alongside with tourism.

To explore both sides of the island, I had the help of a local stud I met on-line before my arrival – Caner – a studly Turkish Cypriot in his early 20s with black hair and green eyes. As soon as we met in person on the Turkish side of Nicosia just past the Green Line, we knew we would spend magical moments together – our attraction could not have been more obvious and tangible.

Over the course of my entire visit, we alternated between my Larnaca hotel room and his apartment in Kyrenia on the Turkish side, and explored all parts of the island together – and all parts of our bodies. We shared a perfect combination of fiery sexual passion and genuine personal respect and interest, which added true meaning, substance and depth to our time together. And we both had a weakness for the great outdoors and graphic details – and tried hard to reenact in real life as many such details as possible – in as varied a setting as Cyprus allows. Yet although an occasional third party watching would not bother us, for the most part, we wanted total solitude, and that was not always easy to find. So we had to drive far far to the North East on the Karpaz peninsula to make passionate love on Golden Beach not far from Cape Apostolos Andreas. Or we drove high up into the mountains of the Troodos Range in the South to make love on the front porch of a wooden chalet in the forest.

We particularly enjoyed hanging out at the gay nude swimming area beyond Agia Napa, just before the Cape Greco turnoff on the highway to Protaras. Swimming, tanning and playing around in the nude in such spectacular setting aroused our wildest porn fantasies, but we could not even think of starting anything there without having tons of guys eager to watch or join in the action. We headed into a nearby field and started fooling around between the corn, but just as Caner started going down on me, we heard a tractor nearby and a furious farmer swearing at us in Greek – good thing I did not understand a word, as I am sure it was nothing flattering.

We fled with our bathing trunks still down to our knees, crossed over the nearby highway and headed up an adjacent hill with shrubs. As we settled for a spot between the shrubs with great views over the Mediterranean, Agia Napa and nearby Protaras, we noticed bullet shells everywhere. This unique setting along with the scenery inspired us to live out yet another great graphic porn fantasy of passionate love making on the shooting range. We ripped off our bathing trunks and started savoring every inch of each other’s toned bodies, going down on each other and then taking turns pounding each other in between the shrubs. We did fortunately have all the supplies handy with us in a small backpack. Yet just as we were about to shoot yet another load full of passion, we heard shots of a different kind scarily close to our shrubs. We were barely able to clean up, and found ourselves running back downhill, as behind us the shooting range was used for military exercise by the Cypriot army. It was a sight and an experience to remember for a lifetime – and both Caner and I still fondly recall the incident years later. Whenever I return to Cyprus and head over towards Cape Greco and the gay nude swimming area, I smile in recollection of once again having lived out yet another true porn fantasy in the scorching summer sun of the Eastern Mediterranean.

“Las personas que buscan el placer, nunca lo encontrarán, porque el placer tiende a acumular sus exigencias a cada paso, y los que lo buscan acaban doblemente desdichados”

“Those seeking pleasure will never find it, as pleasure tends to become more demanding with every step, and those who always seek it will wind up twice as unfulfilled”

These insights from Catalan author TERENCI MOIX, taken from his masterpiece “No Digas Que Fue Un SueÑo” (“Don’t tell me it was just a dream”, not quoted literally), have kept me company throughout my sexually active life. And time and again, I had to remind myself of their truth, live by their value, challenge them and test for myself the very limits of pleasure. The following articles will be an account of several of such transcendent experiences, whereby pleasure was sought, found and taken to extremes that may be thrilling, destructive to some, but certainly counterproductive to the pleasure principle itself.

Berlin’s thriving gay sex culture may be seen as a case in point. For years, I have felt vastly atttracted by Berlin’s extensive and unique gay and lesbian community, among the largest and most visible in Western Europe. With openly gay Lord Mayor Klaus Wowereit going down in history when he took office with the words “I am gay, and it is good that way”, annual gay & lesbian street festivals and a week later Christopher Street parades attracting crowds in the hundreds of thousands, it seems there is hardly a more liberal, tolerant and accepting place in Europe. Yet such tolerance comes with a price tag, as locals seem increasingly jaded about the excess surrounding them. “Do whatever you like, I don’t care, as long as you leave me alone” seems to have become a dominant theme for most Berliners today. This lack of interest then lets those spiral out of control that may show signs of compulsive behavior or personality weakness, including the high number of those gay Berliners getting increasingly caught up in the German capital’s rampant sex circuit.

And sexual outlets abound in Berlin – the easiest proof is to open the city’s free monthy gay magazine SIEGESSÄULE ( online edition at: http://www.siegessaeule.de ) and check any given day of the week. In the LGBT program guide, often under the category “TRIEBE” (“urges”) numerous sex parties may be found catering to all kinks, fetishes and interests, from naked sex dance events, to fisting orgies and HIV positive barebacking parties, to Leather gatherings and S&M events. Any sexual likes are catered to in Berlin, and apart from the dangers of STDs, the real danger is the psychological impact such sex circuits may have on individuals with even the slightest weakness towards sexual compulsion. And if we add to the scenario Berlin’s never-ending economic debacle, with “poor but sexy” as yet another one of Klaus Wowereit’s memorable Berlin slogans, we wind up with a dangerous mix of unemployed gay Berlin boys spending their entire day online or out and about seeking the ultimate sexual thrill.

I too was fascinated by Berlin’s huge gay sex circuit and decided to give it a try and to attend a private naked sex party, allegedly better organized and attended by “hot healthy young studs”, since it was advertised by one of the leading gay portals “www.sixpackparty.de”. The event was to be held at a private appartment in Schöneberg, and I was so nervous, almost as if I had just come out and were heading to my first gay bar. When I arrived, there were about 25 guys there already, about 15 of them new and unknown to each other, nervously standing around the kitchen and unsure about what to expect next. The remaining 10 knew each other well, including the host himself and his partner, who had converted their 3 room apartment into a sex den for the night. The huge spacious living room was adorned with 20 mattresses and jars full of condoms and lube. The only drawback was that of the 25 guys, only 2 or 3 seemed appealing to me. And as I was totally unsure about how to proceed, I too stood around the kitchen sipping on my drink and nervously awaiting the next stage.

Then the 10 buddies made the first move and said from that moment on, it was prohibited to wear clothes, even underwear, as they undressed and moved right over to the living room mattresses to start fooling around. I was so surprised, I could hardly keep up ripping my clothes off and was among the last guys to strip naked. Since I hardly fancied anyone there, I also found it hard to get aroused by the scenario and tried to focus on the 2-3 hot guys I liked. Fortunately the liking was mutual and I was able to start kissing and fondling 2 of them, with one then being taken over by 4 other not so attractive guys. I was able to hold on to him for a while, but increasingly the confusing mix of hands and feet and cocks and tongues got to me and I came up with a migraine from hell. On top of everything, the persistent smell of poppers filled the thick air in the living room, and that stuff has always given me the worst headaches. So I found myself on the margins of the room, without access to my 2 hot studs and with a nasty migraine, when I decided to leave and get food. I was sent off with the words by our gracious host: “Too bad you are leaving – would have loved to fuck your hot ass – get food and come back!” This scene grossed me out so much, I have never bothered to attend another “sixpackparty” event.

On two other occasions, however, I also decided to go to naked sex events, all posted or advertised in Berlin’s SIEGESSÄULE magazine. The experience was similar, with guys already familiar with each other taking center-stage, and others on the sidelines, with the ugly, odd, quirky and different being left sexually unfulfilled and with the promise of pleasure in ruins. So marginalization and ostracization occur even in Berlin’s tolerant and excessive gay sex circuit. The same holds true to the sex bars and clubs, to which I went once or twice out of curiosity. At the door, clothes must be put into plastic bags and club entry is reserved for those in the buff only. There the same scenario unfolds, and with an exhibitionist touch – the few hot ones are taken over by everyone present and find it hard to focus on a particular guy. So even goodlooking guys like myself tend to wind up frustrated and with a nagging feeling of longing and unfulfilled desire for being slightly introverted, reserved and more at ease with personally enriching 1-on-1 encounters. So increasingly burn-out and jadedness take over making the quest for pleasure a sad, compulsive and ultimately unfulfilling endeavor.

Fortunately, I found my limits of pleasure just in time, before getting sucked up by even greater kinks, fetishes and excessive sex adventures. And once again, it is personal encounters that made all the difference and gave meaning and yes, pleasure, to each sexual experience – so whenever I head back to Berlin, I fondly recall my hot Cuban stud I had met in the Tiergarten and had great outdoor sex with, or the shy East German boy I wound up in bed with on a lonely New Year’s Eve. Or Mehmet, the Turkish Hunk from Kreuzberg, with whom I had spent several nights in a row with such fiery passion I could barely walk for a week. So true pleasure has a name, while the limits of pleasure have none.

I have always had a liking for hot young Saxon boys – walking along the pedestrian zone in downtown Dresden, Germany, my eyes have always locked in on the local boys there, handsome as they are in uniting the best of slavic and germanic facial features and physical stature.

Most of them do not self-identify as gay, but are nonetheless a delight to look at and dream about – and many are not quite as straight as they may seem at first glance. As a local friend once observed, when they ask for possible bisexual adventures along the lines of “Would you be interested in screwing my girlfriend?” -what they are truly after is another guy to screw them. So although not officially gay, many hot young saxons happily go both ways and are notoriously repressed closet cases just waiting to explode with passion.

On a recent visit to central Dresden, staying right next to the famous Frauenkirche, I ran the risk of turning repressed and neurotic myself after seeing a parade of young saxon studs flaunting their shamefully good looks on the Neumarkt square and on nearby Weisse Gasse. So I decided to go on a date with a local boy, who turned out to be surprisingly assured in his gay sexuality for being a Saxon and knew all about the local scene or lack thereof. A studly guy in his mid-twenties with a slender toned look and blond hair along with slavic facial features, he instantly took a liking to me and vice versa. We went for food and drink on the Weisse Gasse restaurant lane, watching the other locals and basking in the relentless beauty of the Dresdeners. My date and I looked great together, and anyone with any sense of “gaydar” could easily spot the strong gay sexual energy radiating from our unity – and as we strolled from the Weisse Gasse towards the Altmarkt Gallerie Mall, that’s exactly what happened, as we walked past a handsome swimmer-type boy in his early twenties – and heads turned, glances were exchanged and laughs followed. We decided to stop to see what may ensue – and he stopped too to turn around and talk to us. We knew such attraction was rare on the streets of Dresden – and decided to follow up on it.

I had to return to my hotel through a secret back entrance in an adjacent restaurant to avoid bumping into unwanted elements in the hotel lobby – my 2 dates then met me near the elevator and we had to use my key card to go up to my floor – I still had a bottle of wine in my room- perfect prelude to what was to follow. We popped the cork and toasted to the enormous luck of having found such like-minded kin on the streets in Dresden – and such sexy Saxons they were – both toned, muscular yet slender and hung. Particularly our third party was a grower, and once he got hard, his huge throbbing cock was so beautiful we both had to take turns riding it. In the course of several hours, we were all three able to take turns being top and bottom with all of us equally eager to get pounded – just fascinated by our respective muscular bodies, sexual energies and tasty skin.

After hours of frolicky intercourse, my bed was spewed with our many cumshots and the floor was covered with condoms, lube and kleenex looking like a warzone from the Battle of the Nations. So in the shadow of Dresden’s famous landmark Our Lady’s Church – one of the greatest Saxon sex therapies of all time relentlessly unfolded – and with such graphic detail, it will be a memory for a lifetime. The sexual pleasure it gave us along with the assurance that Dresden CAN be gay and fulfilling all the way- has made me appreciate Saxony more than ever. Encounter, engagement and exchange – even at such basic sensual, sexual and interpersonal level, has a culturally enriching impact on us that is bound to mark us and become part of us forever.