The Muslim

I do not remember exactly how I went through the Internet to the "intermediary". He was a young man in his thirties, a university student who had found a very exotic way of working part-time. He drove around the toilets of the city and left his mobile phone number on the walls. Sort of suck dick. (Now this form is very common: a mobile phone number is written on the walls of the toilet. Whoever does not need it will never call in his life, but the ones who are looking for it will call.) This way the mediator found clients and introduced them to those who were interested. For this service he took a one-time commission fee of 400 rubles, such a small amount.

Once he brought me a handsome man from the Caucasus about thirty years old. The Caucasian stayed with me, and the mediator left with his commission. The Caucasian did not tell anything about himself, he even hid his ethnic origin. People from the Caucasus, especially representatives of small ethnic groups, have a panicky fear that their fellow tribesmen will find out about their non-traditional connections. Before the intermediary brought him to me, he tortured him with questions whether I had any connection with the Caucasus.

The Caucasian turned out to be a very good guy - with a gorgeous body and impressive other arguments. And in general he was handsome. When he passionately kissed me, he put his finger in my ass, and it seemed to me that now in bed we would fuck in every way.

But it was not to be! He fucked only in the mouth, for a long time and painfully, could not come in any way, from time to time he again put his finger in my ass. Finally, I asked him what was the matter, why he did not want to fuck in the ass.

- There is a reason. Can not say.
- What is the reason, what is the matter, - I stuck to him.

The reason turned out to be this: it is allegedly written in the Koran that it is possible to put it in the mouth, but not in the ass. Whoever does it in the ass will burn in hell. And in the mouth - nothing, it is allowed.

It seemed strange to me - is he really that stupid? We met a couple more times, because he himself was too good... Then the go-between brought me another person, also a Caucasian, also a Muslim, but devoid of such restrictions. He still lives with me, for several years now.

All the same, this intermediary, who went round the toilets of the city and scratched his phone number there, did such a good job! Without him, I would never have crossed paths with the one I live with now.

I came across an oral sex lover

Before I knew where the gay hangouts were, I had one significant affair. True, an unsuccessful one, as it soon became clear. It was sometime in the mid-1960s. I was already in my second year in the college. The institute was not prestigious, the student were not attractive - mainly from rural areas, and, basically, it was "Slavic colorlessness". Of all this faceless mass, only a few representatives of the Caucasus stood out clearly. It was they who attracted my attention, and with through various schemes and tricks I tried to get to know them (at the time everyone smoked, there were smoking rooms, people easily entered into conversation there, and this made my task easier).

I liked one student with very dark oily eyes. He was from another faculty. It took me a long time to get to know him. I studied his class schedule, “accidentally” appeared near him when his lectures ended, stalked him in different places. In the end, we got to know each other. His name was Basil, he turned out to be an ethnic Greek from Tbilisi, Georgia. He was several years older than me and lived in an institute hostel. We began to communicate and meet, walk and chat. One evening we went to the park, sat down on a bench and began kissing passionately. And it was he who started it first. Well, I thought, my dream has come true! I “ordered” it for myself, and here it was. I fell in love, was jealous of him, terrible pictures were drawn in my mind that he was with others, I was jealous of him over women who brazenly flirted with him. For a long time this bench in the park, where we first began to kiss, was a holy place for me, I often went to sit there.

It was necessary to somehow fuck, finally. He lived in a hostel, my parents were at home. I've been waiting a long time for the moment when I'll be alone in my apartment. And then one day my family went for the whole evening to the theater. It was then that I invited Basil. Everything started out great: I lit the candles, there was a bottle of wine, all sorts of conversations began. Then I laid an old fur coat in front of the stove with burning coals (like a fireplace). We lay down in front of the “fireplace”, and our passionate kisses, cuddling, caresses began again.

At this point, all my happiness began to quickly give way to disappointment. Something strange happened: Basil began to push my head closer to his dick (the dick was of a decent size, one might say, big). Although I had already heard about dick sucking, I was completely unprepared for this. I thought that he would fuck me in the ass, I already gave myself enemas,  but I just had to take his dick in my mouth. Sucking cock it is not enough, it can only be a prelude to real fucking.

And the most disgusting thing about it was that after I sucked his dick (supposedly he believed that it was some dirty action), he no longer kissed me. When I tried to approach his face, he abruptly turned away as if from someone infectious. He turned out to be fucking hygienist.

I didn’t like it very much right away, but by inertia I was still in love with him, still running after him, still waiting for situations of intimacy with him. I hoped that he would eventually fuck me, but every time the same thing happened. Kissing, sucking his cock, then not touching my lips as if I were a leper. Fie on him!

Then I found out that he didn’t fuck women either. His sex life was limited only to what we did from time to time - oral sex with me.

Finally, I got tired of it. We were friends, but I already avoided sexual activities with him. This began to bother him. I remember how he once asked: “Why don’t you want to be with me anymore, I have such a big one! You won't find anyone with that big one."

In the end, I started feeling physical disgust for him. Somehow I restrained myself, continued to play "friendship".

Despite the fact that we broke up, he invited me for a vacation to his place in Tbilisi. I flew there in January 1967, lived with him almost in the very center of the city (of course, with no sex). In Tbilisi, I was stunned by the looks of Georgian men. I stared at them. However, any dating did not work out, and there were no sexual innuendos. I did not yet know the meeting places for men. One day, Basil said to me as if in jest: “Just don’t meet men at the railway station.” I immediately rushed to the Tbilisi railway station, walked around there for a long time, sat in the waiting room, but it never occurred to me that I had to go into the public toilet there, where, apparently, something could happen.

Ten years passed. Someone knocked on our door. On the threshold stood a completely gray-haired, almost an old man - Basil. It seems that he stayed with us then and lived for several days. Allegedly, he got married, a child was born to him. It was in the year 1975, or about that time. In recent years, I travelled to Tbilisi and sought him out. He is retired and lives completely alone. He is eighty years old. It remains unclear to me what kind of mythical wife he has in Greece. He is basically a narcissist. So he lived out his life being proud of  his great tool, without getting along with anyone.