Wow. Ok… so there is the fat gross rich foreigner who sits at a table for two, alone waiting patiently for some young naïve, financially dependent twink to prance by his table and give him a look, any look. He waits to buy the twink too many drinks. He waits to own his ass. He waits to lie on his back while the twink does all the work riding him like an old ride at Ratanga junction.
There is also the hot tattooed foreigner who stands near the shiny reflecting mirror waiting for something with a great smile to say hello. He waits for something with biceps to say hello. He waits for something with tattoos to say hello. He waits to lie on his stomach while something hot rides him, like a surfer riding a tunnel, smooth!
Greed often holds Sloth’s hand in the context of my little story here but the main difference being that Sloth does very little to get off, like a religious girl after four years of marriage, it just lies there and takes it.
Cubicles that open up onto hallways that meet each other lit by a smoky red light. A maze for sex and there he lies in one of the cubicles with his legs spread and face lying flat on the pillow, porn playing in the background and the smell of poppers wafting out the doorway filling the already sweaty smelling air with its fumes. Sounds of men groans echoing threw the hallway and there he lies, on his stomach waiting for a man to enter! Men go in, men come out and there he lies on his stomach letting them enter.