It seems to have been January 1973, my student holidays, I was in Baku, Azerbaijan, which was covered in snow, and from there I decided to take a train to Yerevan, the capital of Armenia. Yerevan, too, as it turned out, was covered in snow. I stayed at a hotel located quite far from the city center, where an old, rattling and slow tram went. The hotel room was for two, and therefore it was impossible to invite anyone.
Armenians are all around and only Armenian is spoken everywhere. Russian population and easily accessible Russian women were not visible there, so men had sexual hunger. The Opera and Ballet Theatre in Yerevan:
Immediately in the center I found several public toilets, where, as it turned out, life was in full swing. One of them was in the square near the Opera and Ballet Theatre. All underground toilets were in a terrible state, there were mountains of shit and puddles of urine, a strong smell of bleach, besides, in the evenings they were not lit, it was pitch dark. And so Armenians descended into this fetid darkness, they coped with it without problems and there they performed all sorts of sexual acts. Basically, of course, those who wanted to fuck prevailed. I had sex right in the toilet, but I was not satisfied with such anonymous sex, I wanted to see a man naked, to feel his body.
There was one guy, wow, with whom we went to fuck several times at the amusement site that was not working in winter. It was near my hotel, and there, in some kind of wooden booth, I stood on a bench, and he fucked me well. Then he explained to me: “I don’t know what it is, but, here, I have an urge to fuck a guy.” But with what a pleasant feeling I walked through the snow back to my hotel! I remember that along the way I saw young people walking around, singing “Money, Money” by Abba in Armenian.
I remember once in a cruising area near a public toilet I got into a conversation with a Russian, a business traveler, who was very upset that he could not find anyone. I asked him what the matter was, there are so many people hanging around here. - Yes, it’s good for you, you are looking for young people and all the young people come here, but I need an old man, an elderly person ... But where can I find him here! He was a gerontophile. At the time, I didn’t understand this attraction at all so I couldn’t even sympathize with him.
It became clear to me that in Yerevan you can make acquaintances everywhere, in all places, because Armenians are bisexual. It was possible to get to know somebody even at the tram stop, where I waited for my tram for about forty minutes. At the same time, an ordinary person could tell you the whole history of Armenia, starting from biblical times, and with the names of all Armenian kings and heroes. They would necessarily point out that Charles Aznavour and Sylvie Vartan were Armenians. The tram itself was fun and sexy. I got into the second car, late in the evening there was a complete mess, everyone smoked (it was allowed) and it happened that I got to know some people. But then again, all sexual activities took place outside, in the cold, in a hurry, because I didn't have a place to invite anybody.
Skipping a few years, I was already on my other visit to Yerevan. A strange and macabre incident happened. I just met on the street an Armenian of about thirty, handsome, with a black mustache. He really liked me and I liked him too. It turned out that he was from Feodosia (Crimea), he came to Yerevan to visit relatives. We went to a bathhouse, to a separate room with a bathtub. After all the caresses, he began to push his dick up my ass. As luck would have it, there was no lubrication, my saliva, apparently, was not enough, my ass was too tight. Suddenly, blood started flowing profusely from his cock. It turns out that the bridle string was torn. There was a lot of blood, at first we were completely shocked and did not know what to do. Finally, the blood was somehow stopped with handkerchiefs. But the mood was gone. We packed our things and got ready to leave. Before leaving, he opened his wallet in front of me and defiantly counted all his money in front of my eyes. But in the beginning, when we only met, he invited me to his place in Feodosia - “the day after tomorrow we will fly together”, “you will live with me”!
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