My enduring fantasy, I am little boy for some reason staying with his schoolteacher, in some leafy steamy paradise. She walking around in swimsuits or nothing at all. F–king him. This will be my book. My Under the Hill. My Willing Cheeks. Berlin? My erotic education.
I used to call it the Kunthotel, in Kuntstraße. I was so uninspired and unaroused this time it never even crossed my mind. In those days the glorious floozies of Hanky Panky, Chocolat, Mon Cheri, Starlight, Night Dreams, Golden Gate, Blue Bananas, Sissi and Monte Carlo took me to erotic highs I had never known before in my life. Those days are long gone.
I don’t live for saving, I live for eroticism. Constant priapism.
I was dizzy with erotic anticipation in the weeks & days leading up to my trip and I wondered whether I would be able to carry it with me and still feel the same when I got there; as I suspected, no. During my stay in Berlin I felt almost completely a-sexual. But as always it just takes one beautiful bottom or one beautiful pair of bosoms to get me in the mood again. I hope it happens in Brussels. My train to Koln is already 21 minutes late, giving me just 13 minutes to spare to catch my connection. I sat drinking my one beer surrounded by floozies in King George, Club 77, Monte Carlo and Sissi Bar and felt completely unmoved and unaroused by all of them. I hope something happens in Brussels to shake me out of my torpor. This is madness.
I crave the permanent sexual stimulation of being in BEC Berlin, or Caribic kabins Nuremberg. Or Cine Paris? Brussels. Or watching the girls bounce past window of Molly Moggs or Montagu Puke in London before going round corner to Tina or Zara to let it out. Last high nights I had were with Adelina in Vienna and Lucy in Brussels at end of 20–. Really nothing at all this year and we are nearly in June already. The dirty bombs will start being exploded soon enough, in London and elsewhere, so need to do as many dirty things now as I can.
Those men in shower room videos are a great discovery, why I never looked at them before. So sexy. How I felt in the old Sunset Cinema days walking up and down the stairs with my cock rolling for all to see. Fantastic feeling. Surely I can f— someone like an animal on this Berlin trip can’t I? Will my psychosomatic illness make the infection come back though? At least in June I will get my second biggest paycheque EVER (tax allowing). This 12 months I have earned £–,700 more than the previous year. What great memories in that 12 months? WSK Jackie, Adelina, 5th Avenue Lucy, all in last 4 months of last year. Massively crippled by the infection, made so much worse I now realise by TOO MUCH ——-. I prolonged it by my own actions. Fascinating now to see if I CAN spark this year to life in the last 7 months. Can it catch fire?