Gays as manic ballet lovers

 

Gays, they believe, love art. Of all the arts, ballet is the most important for them. No, not drama, not opera, but ballet. In theaters, before the start of a ballet performance, in the lobby, there was already a crowd of faggots. Some of them were not even going to see the performance. They just wanted to be closer to the performance, so that they can immerse themselves in this atmosphere for a while, and at the same time use this lobby as a meeting place. So at one time it was a kind of cruising area.

But even in the theatre itself there were a large number of "such people." During the intermission, they hung about, formed groups, discussed something, looked at people. They gathered in the theatre buffet, in the  toilet, where they smoked.

 I remember how once in Moscow, at the Bolshoi Theatre, during a performance, one bald queen of caricature-like appearance so frantically showed delight, applauded so much that he rolled over the barrier of a very high balcony. People managed to grab him, held him by the feet, and dragged him back. Everyone in the audience gasped, then there was noise for a long time.

Somehow I did not like this suspiciously exaggerated love for ballet, the fact that it is experienced mainly by effeminate creatures. I began to guess that all this was not some kind of love for art, but something else, that it was rather a desire to identify themselves with ballet performers, with women-performers. In a word, "I want to become this ballerina." (Then my assumption was finally confirmed: first in New York, and then, it seems, in Moscow, ballet troupes were created, where all the roles were played by gays. A dream come true ...)

Even more unbearable for me were gatherings of faggots, where they chattered about ballet. Almost each of them had their own revered and cared for ballerina, their own "female idol", and often it was a real acquaintance, even friendship with one or another ballerina. From their disputes, whose ballerina is better, I wanted to run far away. And they also would step into the middle of the room and show different ballet movements and steps to indicate what was done correctly or not. “And your ballerina can only dance in the stable!” “And yours is a cow…”, etc. I remember how once I escaped from such a gathering of ballet lovers into the street and saw a lot of simple handsome guys there. And I kept asking myself: why is it so annoying that here, on the street, there are lots of normal guys and men, and there ... some kind of effeminate freaks.

Shit as a factor

The main reason why men don't normally fuck each other in the ass is the presence of shit in it. Because from the ass people shit and fart. I don't know how they managed to do it in the ancient world, where bisexuality was the norm. I don’t know how they managed without enemas then and what devices they came up with to remove shit from the inside of the ass. But, oddly enough, they did without enemas in my Soviet times. It was only me who guessed very early that you can wash your ass from inside. Then, in the 1960s and 70s, others, as I found out, did not do this and asked me with surprise – what for? “After all, it’s enough to shit properly.”

But some didn't even shit properly. One faggot told me that in his youth, when he was fucked in the ass, he “smeared his partners unbelievably”, everything was covered in shit, and the stench was unbearable. Then, on my advice, “she” began to give herself enemas.

Another gay that I know eats so much that no amount of enemas help. He would pick up someone, lead him into the bushes or to another secluded place, offer his ass and after fucking he is all smeared in shit. And he will smear his partner with shit too. Awful! Once there was so much shit and such a stench emanated from that place that the partner began to puke in disgust. It is especially disgusting if a straight man was  smeared with shit when he tried to fuck someone in the ass for the first time.

In general, the topic of shit is still taboo. It exists, but people pretend that it does not exist.

Once I was in Batumi, Georgia. I had a Georgian friend there, a family man, but who also fucked guys. So he told me once: “I brought a guy into the basement of the house, I fucked him standing up, and suddenly it began to stink terribly of shit. Do you know why this is so?” I said nothing. What could I have told him? I said nothing.

In general, there are big problems here. You can also fart, especially when pulling the dick out of the ass when the fucking is over. In this case, a loud bang can occur, just like a shot. This causes great embarrassment and shame. Or an involuntary giggle.

When I see in modern porno videos how male models famously fuck each other in the ass and at the same time portray unearthly pleasure (groaning, muttering about happiness), I am somehow skeptical about this. It cannot be so. Fucking in the ass is a technically difficult task, you get terribly tired from it, and at the same time you are incredibly worried. Pleasure there is very indirect and, shall we say, specific.

Meanwhile, despite the problems of shit, men fuck each other in the ass. Apparently, lust, sexual desire is overpowering. Once, in the early 1970s, I got into a conversation with a guy, he was about 17-18 years old. He lived in a dormitory of a vocational school. He told me in all simplicity that “when the guys from his room get drunk, then everyone takes turns fucking him in the ass". They rub his ass, and after that he had the urge to poop. He didn't like it. But he was not particularly angry with his comrades. He treated it as some kind of unavoidable inconvenience

Unrestrained depravity of women in Soviet times

Some people, even the majority, think that the decline in morals occurred after Perestroika, in new, capitalist times. It's not like that at all. Precisely in Soviet times, unimaginable depravity reigned. Women engaged in promiscuity very easily, out of lust, without pursuing any benefit. They laughed at the fact that somewhere in foreign countries there is prostitution. If any woman in the USSR asked for a fee for sex, she would be ridiculed.

Loudly and provocatively laughing girls emerged from everywhere. Their laughter intensified if guys, men, were in sight. I remember how I once walked with two friends, and on the other side a group of girls was moving. So one yelled across the road: “I want to fuck! Fuck me!”

But it was worse than that. In our Suburb there were many military units, barracks. Soldiers told me that every evening girls (for exemple students of a local institute) were crowding around the checkpoint or behind the fence with a bottle of wine in a shopping bag. Well, it was somehow embarassing to pay with money, so they brought drinks. “Here, take a bottle, just fuck me” - that's what it was supposed to mean.

Soviet soldiers were happy to get bottles of wine.

In general, this phenomenon is so strange and not found in any other civilization that I still cannot find an explanation for it.

Young women of a slightly higher social status on certain days went to higher military schools. On such "reception days" one could see a long procession of overdressed and heavily perfumed young women heading there. They went there to get to know servicemen with the eventual prospect of getting married(those young women did not know that the Soviet regime would fall soon and army service would lose its prestige and, most importantly, good salaries).

At work, especially during various parties and drinking gatherings, women actively molested men, literally got into their pants. I remember how one of our employees suddenly approached me. She was ten years older than me (she had a husband), and said: “Well, I’m at home alone today, so let’s go to my place. Well, don't you understand? I need help hanging the curtains".

They pestered men on the streets, stared into their eyes. It wasn't hard for a man or a young guy to find someone to fuck. They would say in those days - "let's go out to find whores." And I myself more than once witnessed how they went out, quickly got to know a girl and brought her home.

Once there was such a case. My friends and I were returning home in broad daylight, we walked past a house under construction, in which construction battalion, mainly Tajiks  worked. They lived there at the same time. Suddenly Tajiks come up to us. And they start to chat us up as if we were girls. My friends refused, but I agreed to meet with one in the evening. As I remember now, his name was Tavakan. I came in the evening, it was already dark, I met this Tavakan, and he apologizes and explains with embarrassment that a girl, a student of the institute, appeared shortly before our date and invited him to the park to fuck. Just like that, very simply, she came to the soldiers to have a casual fuck with someone. That bitch took the Tajik from me! And he was good - tall, slender, with a mustache.

Immediately after the onset of capitalism in Russia, after Perestroika, something changed dramatically in this regard. Now women are hard to pick up on the streets, in public places. Gone is the stupid chat-up line “girl, are you in a hurry?” Now everything is different.

 

A chance meeting that left good memories

At times it became quite sad. The fact that I found gay meeting places did not live up to my expectations. I stopped visiting these places, because I realized that it was useless. One evening - it was in the late 1960s – passing through a railway station I met a guy. It turned out that he was from a small town two miles kilometers from our Big City. Blond, tall, broad-boned, with a simple plain face. I don't even remember his name. He worked at the Research Institute of Antibiotics, as a laboratory assistant, or something. He worked night shifts sometimes. It was on one of his night shifts that we went to his institute. I remember the smell of penicillin mold that wafted throughout the building. In some laboratory, among the autoclaves, we pushed six chairs together and lay down on them. It was good with him. We had a fuck. True, the chairs were constantly moving apart ... Later, he came to me several times to my suburb, when I was alone in the house. I liked that he had a man's ass, with pimples. I don’t remember anything else, how we broke up and why. Only now, several decades later, when often passing by train along this railway - it is a seedy and abandoned place, almost extinct, a rundown railway station - I remember that I once had someone from here, there was a person here, who left fond memories. Memories are vague, weak and immediately crumbling if I try to delve into them.

Gay legend of the City

 

From many gay people, I began to hear stories about some legendary "Cinderella", Anatoly D., a handsome tall guy with a huge dick. “You know, there is such a handsome guy, he lives in Pavlovsk. He has a very big dick." I became very interested, because I traveled on the same suburban line. One evening, returning home by train, we met. It wasn't hard to get to know each other. He really looked spectacular - two meters tall, wearing a cap, his hands were huge, like shovels. Right in the vestibule of the carriage (he was tipsy) we began to kiss. And then we drove to the suburb of  Pavlovsk, entered the park and there in the dark, among the fir trees, he fucked me. It was great, and it seemed to me that I found what I dreamed of.

We started dating. There was nowhere to meet. Anatoly worked as a projectionist in the photo lab of the Pedagogical Institute, and so I went there, we fucked there. I also carved out moments when I had no one at home. Then we undressed completely and went to bed. Here I was able to see his body. It was big, white, without a single prominent muscle, such a lump ... The ass was flat as a pancake. And at the same time a huge dick. He fucked in the ass, he was not particularly interested in oral sex. We used to date for a long time, I was very hooked on him, one might say, I was in love with him, but then it somehow petered out. Over time, I found out that he was actually passive by nature and that he was fucked by all the fagots in the city, by everyone who could. - Didn't you know that I am a "girl"? - once he told me when we met. – I love a big dick in my ass. Yeah, I basically have to fuck, to do this hard work because everyone wants it.

He also fucked women with might and main. In the late 70s, I remember, he worked as a waiter in a restaurant. Then there was an unspoken rule that if a new employee came, then in order to get accepted by the team, he had to fuck all the women working there. And so he did. “I had to,” he said.

Once - it was already in the 70s - I accidentally met Anatoly in the city center. He was with an Azerbaijani. Anatoly invited me to join them. We went to his place, drank there and immediately moved to the sofa. So, it was like this: Anatoly fucked me, and the Azerbaijani fucked him. However, Anatoly came in me first, and for him it immediately became unbearable that he was being fucked. He got up, and the Azerbaijani continued with me, fucked me in the ass. By the way, he was a good Azerbaijani.

They say that Anatoly D. has been gone for a long time, twenty years as he was gone. He drank a lot. After some gathering and drinking in the company of many people, he was found dead in his own apartment. He was born in 1946. A legend of Leningrad. He satisfied countless longing people with his big dick.