These last two weeks have been amazing in London: non-stop sunshine, boys out on the street showing off their bodies, buzzing energy everywhere. On Friday, my boyfriend and I went out for drinks with friends; on the way home, a drunk bloke shouted at me: “hey you, sexy gay boy”. I’m taking compliments from anywhere these days!
I’ve been taking advantage of the gym and the pool. Yesterday, after a few hours sunbathing in Victoria Park (which looked like a gay Mecca, with couples and groups of gay boys everywhere), I had a long swim at my local and enjoyed a brief shower beside two guys – one dark-skinned, straight and hung like a stud horse, the other gay, slim and older (I’ve seen him around).
Today, I hit the gym in the morning and felt a bit of interest from a stocky mid-height bloke with a mohawk. As I was leaving, he made gestures to leave too. On the street, I looked back at one point and there he was following me home… or was he? A few minutes later, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Probably just my imagination – my ego playing tricks thanks to so much endorphin coarsing through my body.