So, basically I was to take my dear friend for his first trip to The Big Easy for his 27th birthday. He is a gay man who has never been to NOLA. It also didn't hurt that he is an extremely fun person and très dramatique, which never fails to disappoint! What could be more humorous than to expose a virgin man diva to NOLA's Southern Decadence? I eagerly anticipated the shocked look on his face when he experienced for the first time the hoards of leather daddies, bears, papaws and twinks alike all coming together (pun intended) to watch naked boys flop their exposed semi-hard cocks around for dolla dolla bills. We didn't make it that far, however, and he had to pull out of the trip. It was unfortunate, but I understood the circumstances in which he found himself (monetarily and otherwise) was completely different than what it was when I started planning the trip almost five months prior.
Since I had built it up in my head that I had to take a gay man who had never been to NOLA, I was relieved and very happy that a replacement who fit that description perfectly fell into my lap. He too was a drama queen in more ways than one with a great, big, huge, bulging, throbbing personality (I love these types, obviously). Even better, it was one whom with I had callously (albeit unintentionally) dropped the ball on a previous Vegas trip that we were planning. Unfortunately, he ended up being unable or unwilling to attend. I quote my aforementioned friend in saying, "Sometimes the devil just has to step in and steal your joy". I won't specify what 'the devil' is in this case, but suffice it to say that circumstances that made it rock hard for him to attend.
Now, in the meantime, my long lost girlfriend from the wild west was making her triumphant return to steamy, wet humidity, sweet tea, fried everything, Jesus-loving Alabama. She was a natural choice to replace those silly boys and the higher level of maintenance required (sorry boys, get your panties out your bootysplits). AND I AM SO GLAD I DID! (stay tuned for the follow up blog documenting my trip in more detail)
I really missed the boat by having this prematurely ejaculated notion that I wanted to take a gay boy with me. I absolutely couldn't have had a better time exploring undiscovered areas away from the French Quarter, eating out every day, holla hollaring at the ladies passing by and listening to some stimulating gypsy music. It truly was an orgy of the senses. Now, I don't in any way discount that I would have had a fabulous, gay dick filled extravaganza with either of my boys. However, I am happy to say I had it all wrong in thinking that taking a gay boy was a necessity. Afterall, how much Bourbon Street man meat can you take up the ass?
This entry was magical.
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