Assisting with tourists (18 rating)

Okay, so I guess I gave the game away already, but the point of a story is getting there, not the ending. And as with all the best tales, you'll have to wait for the surprise ending.

One of the few benefits of being a nonlocal, is that any other nonlocals who arrive in your city are instantly more attracted to you than to the locals. They assume you will be able to see all the other crazy eccentricities, and have invaluable advice about how not to get ripped off by taxi drivers. Tourists who come looking for a little extra-curricular fun, though, are a mixed bag. Most will also demand your advice about bars, clubs, and the rest. But some will split off, hoping to bag themselves a new, fresh nationality for the bed post.

And so it was that I got chatting to a nice Frenchmen, who, as it happened, was living in Stockholm. He was visiting for a few days, as part of his extensive travels, and I was very pleased that he seemed happy to meet up, since he was very nice looking. So we went for a drink in a crazy little bar I know. I tried to slowly make my move, but wasn't exactly fighting him off. At the end of our slow drink, I offered to pay, joking that he could get the drink the next night.

We wandered off into the night, and back to mine. After a few hours talking, and further slow movement towards physical contact, something managed to happen, and I ended up with a boy in my bed. In spite of the single duvet, and the still chilly weather outside (this was back at the start of April), it was very nice to doze off with someone's arms about me.

Come the next morning though, I detected a different vibe. "Oh no, I've been here before," I thought. Boys have this gift, whereby after they've slept with someone on a first night, they decide the other boy is such a whore, and how could they possibly see them again. Oh the hypocrisy. No kiss at the door - okay, it was Budapest, and perhaps it was a tad too romantic a gesture - before we went our separate ways.

I thought I'd risk a text though, and to my pleasant surprise he agreed to meet again that evening. We headed to Jelen for some grub, and I was happy once more. Tea at mine, but this time the Frenchmen decided to use his hotel bedroom for his sleeping, and the nearest I got was forcing a foot massage on him. He didn't even have his socks off!

Never overlook an enjoyable evening, though, even if it doesn't become exactly what you wanted it to. I am happy to say that we are still in touch via Facebook (somehow more legitimate than Gaydar!).