Bonjour mon amies!
If you're wondering, Montreal was tres incredible! Nothing too crazy or ultimately life altering. Just lots of pure gay fun and deliciously impure implications. I'll jump right in like I usually do (pun intended for later). Wednesday night I hopped on the Megabus for my inagural voyage on the newish bus service. Megabus and percocets are totally the way to travel around the northeast! Fuck greyhound.
After a good night's sleep at Danny's pad, the BOS/NY trifecta were heading north, across the border, and checking into Le House Boy bed & bfast in the heart of Montreal's gay village. We were located a block away from rue du St Catherine, where the fags roam freely...and what unbelievably gorgeous fags they are!
They don't grow them the same in Quebec, and it definitely shows. Albeit, the majority of the drop dead gorgeous specimen seem to be strippers in one of the two well known butcher shops, Campus (for both the boy next door & twink connesieur) & Stock (for size queens and/or those of us with daddy issues), but that's just a minor detail. Beauty is beauty, no matter how ultimately inaccessible it is.
Thursday night was dinner at Saloon, where the servers are required to have asses that make even the most powerful of bottoms want to eat them out! The food was delicious too! After the strip club rounds, we called it an early first night.
Friday was amusement park day. La Ronde is a Six Flags park and was a great way to feed our need for thrills while keeping our clothes on. After a dip in the jacuzzi St our place and a nice nap, it was off to a forgetable dinner. We were having a difficult time getting motivated to go out, but once we were off the stories wrote themselves!
$20 gets you the man of your choice for one song, in a booth, where no one but the lap and the meat really knows how far the Queen Elizabeth was stretched! I picked Marco at Stock, who smelled like man, sex and heaven all wrapped in a 4 minute symphony. He heard I was a virgin to the booth, so he took it easy on me, but he was just hard (and smooth) enough to make that the best $20 spent on the trip. I really do love beautiful men.
Sufficiently horned up, we headed out to collect handstamps from Campus, Unity, and Parking, before quickly discovering it was 3am and time to head to the bathhouse. Oasis wasn't very crowded, which made it perfect for my debut! Before I knew it I was strattling a stallion in the jacuzzi, sticking my tongue down his throat, and following his tall, CHAUD ass into the sling chamber (one of the perks of being too cheap/pessimistic to rent a room for the extra $5). The voyeurs had a fieldday with us, from the sling, to the steam room, to the corner by the sofa machines, where we finally go our rocks off. Ironically, the stud cock was supposedly from NYC. A brief exchange on the way in between our two groups made him think I was from Boston. I didn't correct him and made the smart decision not to ask for his number. I mean, where does the relationship have to go when the majority of your first date was spent on a sling?! I'll settle for a hot hour and multiple encores in my fantasy life!
So that was the climax of my trip. I spent the resolution of my story trying not to spoil the whole thing. I have a great fear of the back-to-back disappointment. Saloon did a great job of satisfying both times, as did the gourmet pizza place on the corner next to Campus. I never have the same luck with men or clubs!
Things that aren't attractive about Montreal: the taxes, the taxes, the taxes! That's about it. Everything else makes me want to go back as soon as possible. I would stay at a different b&b, to keep it fresh, but I wouldn't change a thing otherwise.
Although reality is slowly creeping back into my system, it has little chance of surviving due to the impending family reunion (read:non-vacay) that begins in approx 48 hours. There's no doubt that work will be an extreme bitch every minute that I'm there this week, but looking toward Wednesday night is definitely going to help me through it.
This coming weekend will obviously be a beautiful juxtaposition to the one that has just ended. My Montreal mini-vacation was the perfect mix of relaxation and anonymous sex. Pigeon Forge will be an imperfect mix of sobriety and familial obligation. Isn't it fucked up that I'm looking forward to it? The home cooking and water park have a great deal to do with that. Not to mention the absence of a certain pre-adolecent bitch with red pigtails!
It may be the percocets I'm using to write this, but I really do love my life/vie! Now let me post this before I change my mind. Au revoir. Or until I get back from visiting Dolly. Xo
*Visual reference to come tomorrow.
