Friday night in The Village

My flight arrived quite late in the evening (Sept. 7) and I went directly Toronto's  Church Street.  It had been a exhausting several days with the opening week of classes, supply teacher preparations and my 3500 km drive earlier in the week.

At that moment, I decided that I did NOT want to spend the night in the bed of some big city guy, as sweet as that might have been.  During hookups in my own town, I very much feel a 'safety net' around me.  I know where I am at all times and invariably have family or friends nearby who I could call on if things went bad.

As well, my visit to the cancer hospital on Monday was starting to weigh heavily on my mind.  I was filled with dread at the prospect of becoming a cancer patient yet again and just wasn't in the mood for a hookup.

At 11:00 pm, Church Street was packed with attractive people of all descriptions having fun.  A gorgeous Amazon-like black woman strutted by in a black leather bustier, micro-mini skirt and stilettos.  But then I noticed that the miniskirt did not cover the big bulge in the front of her white panties.  I thought, "Whoa!  That`s pretty fucked up!!" and immediately felt guilty for judging her / him for being different than me.  Aren't we LGBTQ folk supposed to be supportive of each other?

I peeked into the Black Eagle bar:  nearly empty.   The new Church-on-Church dance club was packed with people spilling out onto the sidewalk but they were mainly 20 year old guys and girls from the nearby university..... no place for an old fart like me.

I spent about two hours at Flash which was about 1/3 full.  I LOVED it.... drinking beer at the front row of the stage and watching some of the most gorgeous guys I've ever seen, working the stripper pole with amazing athleticism.  Muscular, sensual, handsome, big-cocked.... they had it all!  Several older customers locked eyes with me but I didn't want to pursue a hookup so I ignored then. 

My favourite stripper boy man came by to sell me a lap dance;  a bit shorter than me, lovely muscles, olive-skinned (Italian, I think) brown eyes and hair, beefy thighs, nice fat cock and a voluptuous ass.  Icing on the cake:  he was the only stripper with body hair.... beautiful!

So as not to waste his time, I told him that I would not be paying for a lap dance but he said, "That's okay" and stayed to chat for about 15 minutes.  Shirtless Hottie Stripper stood facing me while we talked and put his arms around my waist, our cocks grinding into each other.  It was so hot!  I got hard instantly.  I wrapped my arms around his waist and cupped his buttocks with my hands.... I had no other place to put my hands, honest!

I have a great interest in the stories of the stripper guys and most are willing to answer my questions, such as:

-age
-home town
-day job?
-do you like stripping?
-do you prefer stripping for women or men?
-future job or education plans?
-gay/bi/straight?
- when did you know you were gay?
-does your family know you're gay?
-is your family accepting?
-what do you think about being hit on by elderly men?

Hottie Stripper was 26 and had worked as a roofer (that explains that smokin' hot body!) but the pay was very poor so now stripping was his only job.  He earned far more money stripping and 'being nice' to customers.  He preferred stripping for men  because they were more appreciative.

Hottie was training to be an electrician.  His father was fully accepting of his gayness;  his mother, not so much.  She still was sad about the grandchildren she would never have.   All the while he was talking, I was caressing his beautiful ass under his silky undies.... OMFG!   so hot!!

At 1:00 am, I left the club alone.   It was pouring rain so I walked up the street, summoned up my courage and went into the Steamworks bathhouse.   To be continued in my next post.