“Hey Randall, I’m going to hop in the car and check out the gay strip in Fort Lauderdale. You want to join me? Can I take you out to lunch?”
“Sure, I’m not doing anything,” Randall responded. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.”
If you didn’t read the previous post I took a vacation in South Florida, staying with Randall, my buddy from California who had a summer assignment in the area. Last Saturday, although remnants of a tropical storm off the coast were sending rain showers every five minutes, I decided to hop in the car and explore.
The first stop was Rosie’s Bar & Grill, a great little hang out spot right in the heart of Ft. Lauderdale’s gay district on Wilton Drive. The food was good and it was great seeing such a large crowd of gay folks enjoying themselves.
Next we made a stop to LeatherWerks, a shop where you can buy whatever kink turns you on — dildos, latex suits, chains, whips, biker boots, thongs, you name it. Randall had fun trying on stuff.
Then we went down the street to Gay Mart, a clothing and accessories store that caters exclusively to gay men. Randall bought a pair of white shorts while I stuffed my pockets with free Magnum condoms from a cookie jar on the counter.
It was getting to be late afternoon and the rain was getting harder so we walked down the sidewalk to get a Happy Hour cocktail at Georgie’s Alibi, a nice gay bar in the same small shopping plaza as Gay Mart.
Randall and hung out with some Black and Latino guys from the Houses of Ninja, Ebony, Infiniti, Mizrahi, Milan and Blahnik, who were planning a vogue ball for later that year. I was impressed that they put so much into planning — I didn’t know the balls were so well organized.
And it was fun listening to them get on the phone and read the leader of another House who always criticizes the balls but didn’t bother to come to the meeting to plan the next one. They passed the phone around, telling him off.
“He won’t be invited to the next ball,” I think one of them said afterward. “But we are going to chew him up and spit him out before we disinvite.”
The group broke out laughing.
Later that night Randall set up a foursome with this brown-skinned top dude who I swear had a tongue a foot long and lovedto eat ass and suck dick with it and this chunky, dark-skinned bottom with a big booty.
While the top was fucking the bottom doggy style I stood up on the bed, stuck my dick in the top’s mouth, and let him work that tongue. Randall had taken a break to check something on his computer but came back just in time to watch me shoot my nutt into the top’s mouth.
But the mood of the party soon darkened.
“Have you head the news,” the bottom said. “They reached a verdict in the Trayvon Martin trial.”
Earlier that evening I had turned off the TV after the jury asked the judge for directions on manslaughter convictions. I was sure they would nail that wannabe cop with that charge.
But what the bottom said caught me completely off guard.
“They found him innocent of all charges,” the bottom said.
“Goddammit,” I said. “I can’t believe that shit.”
We sat around watching the news coverage. George Zimmerman’s brother appeared on CNN. What he said almost made me puke.
It was bad enough that psychopath stalked and killed a young man, probably after being on the losing end of a fight. But to have Zimmerman’s brother blame Trayvon for his own death was foul and arrogant.
Our guests soon went home.
“Turn off the TV Randall, I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to bed.”