Naked in Athens

BLOG ATHENS Such a big break took place since I was able to post the last bog it seems half a year went by, so the things are freshest in my mind are most recent so I will be trying to fill the gap going backwards from. At the moment I am at the plane as its a good place to write, returning from Athens to London. In fact this is the secant time I was in Athens during the last two months and all by chance. THis time I went with Tommy Hawk (picture) to do a live sex performance at a club called FC-UK. I must say I was expecting everything but not the personal touch we received from the owner of the club, who put us in a nice hotel, sent cars to pick us up form the airport and was thee pretty much available to us at any time to solve the silliest of problems like when I forgot my gym sneakers. I do think he likes me more than other performers and since I speak polish with him we quickly struck a common note that was resonating throughout the whole vist. It would genuine courtesy and treatment you can expect only if you were a prince staying in a five star L hotel. Speaking of hotel you know how california studios put you in a shabby cheap place with tiny rooms in San Francisco near their studio. Ours was elegant bran new 4 star hotel right in the heart of the city. But then again Paul is an angel and can safely recommend his club as a great appearance opportunity for any model. If you ever go to Athens do visit FC-UK because although the city looks shabby and falling apart from the outside, having a dirty borderline eastern felling to it, this cruising club is completely modern and well organized as much for cruising as much for sex. The performance space is great and allows for 150 people to watch the show from two levels and the staircase. Its clean, lit with proper atmosphere and I had lots of fun using the sling and other fuck-places without a feeling like I am going to catch smoothing any moment, which you often get even at famous places like Berlin's Laboratory and London's Hard On, although I will give it to the latter two that its really hard to keep the fuck surfaces clean when you have 500 people coming to a 6 hour long party. FC-UK however with its 150 nightly attendance has enough guys to get laid but maintains a chamber sexually charged atmosphere that doesn't disperse over large spaces other clubs have. I will post some photos form our performance. The show itself was a success but how could it not be when we looked great with Tommy and, six-packs tattoos and oiled muscles., and Tommy's ass is well…I think I wrote about it already but I just cant get enough each time. Clearly he couldn't get enough of mine so we fucked and fisted to the popular applause of the gathered audience. Since the club was so much fun instead of one we did three shows, one dirtier than the other. And there is something to say about Tommy being my preferred sex partner above everyone I remember. With each boyfriend you when you're high on love in the first stages of relationship you have at least one or two such experiences - these when you feel high yet you've taken no drugs. When you dont know whats going on in your brain, level of intoxication reaching beyond anything you have experienced before. Outside of Tommy in my life I think it happened only once and it was sex with Owen Hawk after a year long dating, mating and feeling it would be wrong to go to bed together since we were best friends and business partners. We were also in love and it happened one day coming down like a stunning tornado that moves the whole sky with its vortex but normally its never seen in this part of the country. So unexpected, so powerful, it carried us higher and higher spinning faster and faster. We held to each other kissing and we didn't know if we were rolling on the bed or was it the imaginary tornado holding us in some euphoric dance. Never before or after I felt so high and so united with another person. So coming back to Tommy, sex with him is each time close to that first experience, endorphins flowing freely and every kiss sweeping me off my feet. I'm a great kisser but Tommy even more tries to improve my skill and tells me from time to time to relax my lips. God, if I relax them I feel like I'm falling hundred stories down and if he didn't hold me tight I'd probably fell into heaven and God knows what that'll be like. In short sex with Tommy, stunning body visuals included is just constant bliss, addictive as Mozart's Requiem from the first listening. Many times I traveled across europe to hear live Requiem in moving performances of my favorite conductors, as many times I traveled to Madrid to see Tommy and to drink bliss straight from his lips. In fact i didn't need the money I was paid for the performance I just wanted to see him an since he makes little money and cant afford to travel I organize these promotional gigs to give us opportunity to meet and for him to make some cash, as he's very proud and he wont let me pay for him, what a refreshing quality. Still I end up paying for all the travel since I always have to go to him then. So it was any two nights but I indulged enough in the warmth of his body and beauty of his face, From day one though I though it was a hopeless love, difference in social standing, difference in education, difference in language and difference in background. Love though has the tricky quality of making you appreciate it most when you miss it - and thats our whole relationship two days here, three days there, always intense, always sincere in affection, always lacking on time. Like a walk through the palace garden in the summer afternoon, full of enchanting corners, warm scents of rare flowers, captivating plant designs, narrow cosy pathways leading from the carmine rose section to the yellow tulip garden. You segue the path and sit on a bench in front of a fountain to listen the the bubbling water and noise of the sandy pebbles under your feet. The moment so fragile and it lasts no longer than a visit of a sparrow, you know the next group of tourists is just around the corner. On occasional visits to the park you dont notice the buckets with gardeners tools, long hoses rolled out each morning for the irrigation and the petal loosing plants that just wont be happy and die. Each time I re-visit my love to tommy I find myself in the enchanting garden, and when I'm not with him I miss him, my love growing for the place that doesn't exist. Only remembering perfection I'm about to wake up, not now though, not now. The afternoon sun still caresses my face and the view of his innocent cheerful face is still unspoiled by sadness. For now the group of tourists with children went the other way. The garden is our again.

Today back online!

After what it seemed to be eternity I managed to get someone to help me fix the blog functionality and if everything is cool I van start posting all the juicy chapters I was forced to wrote to my harddrive.

Test

testing blog posting

Shit day and Schumann for dessert.

So whoever had a shit day out there, I suggest they do what I have done today. It seemed the roof was falling on my head I had so many problems and they seemed to have no end. If fact I was so stressed out I slept half of the afternoon just to turn off my brain. Since my particular crisis didn't end today and maybe will end tomorrow I was expecting to be full of nervous nail biting and pacing the room back and forth. Instead I reached for the unusual cure - I called a friend of mine to come over and accompany me on the piano while I massacre Dichterliebe (Poet's Love) song cycle by Schumann. This was a new experience for me. I have sung before with recordings in the background and I thought I was pretty good, well at least better than the usual singing-in-the-bathroom. This time I was accompanied on a real piano to a tempo and volume which I chose and it was only me singing. I focused on three songs that seemed challenging but manageable and of course started with most excited one "Ich grolle nicht" only to loose my voice after 5 minutes of singing with full voice and no warm up. Still it was terrific fun and we laughed to no end looking at each other with every new bar we'd terribly trash. A porn-star in Venice singing Schumann to accompaniment of a contemporary opera composer who sees the score more as a guideline rather than anything to adhere to. I laughed when i was bad but I laughed double when I was good. The most difficult song of the cycle ("Ich hab'im Traum geweinet") happens to be the easiest looking on the page and fact has fewest notes to play but for the singer expressively it can Mount Everest and delivering it convincingly is as involving as sniffing poppers in the sling in the darkroom full of hard cocks. Well maybe its not the most eloquent parallel but intensity of the experience is definitely comparable. For most of the time voice is unaccompanied and you feel completely exposed. It opens with a long solo phrase that you need to intonate perfectly and bring to a crescendo and diminuendo within only two and a half bars. It takes a good ear and real balls to do it as that one phrase says everything about you as a singer and performer. We finished breaking our teeth on "Im Rhein in heiligen Strome" which is the most balanced of the three songs and has parts where you can open up and sing your lungs out, and parts that require whisper-like voice. All in all my earlier problem disappeared for two hours. Who would think? Better then smoking, drinking or taking hard drugs - I'm getting old, am I? Too bad most of these songs set 19th century poetry which in our day seems tacky in how it simplifies the love topics. My German sucks but with dome dictionary help I made a translation of the song I mentioned to be as challenging as climbing a mountain. But the text; touching in its own way, could it be any simpler? I have in wept in my dreams. I dreamed you lay in the grave. I woke up and the tears still flowed down from my cheeks. I have wept in my dreams. I dreamed you abandoned me. I woke up and I wept very long and bitterly. I have wept in my dreams, I dreamed you were still good to me. I woke up, and yet again my face floods in tears. Back to porno and sex in the next chapter.

Venice can be so surprising.

So on the pages of same boring Gay Romeo who's dull members I was bashing earlier this weekend, I have met tonight no one less but a real composer, visiting Venice for a month and composing his second opera. We talked a moment online and decided to meet right afterwards at Piazza San Marco under the tower. It was 2 am. Venice is hot and humid and tonight reminds more of tropical Rio then north Italy. We strolled by a few always gorgeous views of city by night, the pinkins white street lamps, the stars, the dispersed light of a bright moon hanging in the most kitschy way between the roofs of some old charming palaces. We came to my house talking about composers and music and listened for three hours to various new music exchanging first listening impressions. And it all happened at the spare of a moment. Where else in the western city busy with cars and spread over the distances could it happen? Venice is just magical in this and many other ways. I'm so happy to have found it.

"U sucked my dick and more.."

So this is now a weekly occurrence, some completely average looking guy, excuse for being insensitive, is talking to me on GayRomeo or manhunt like we were old friends. Of course I've no clue who he is and why he thinks I'm going to have children with him so I ask if we know each other. The answer is always the same: "of course i met (u) in Berghain (a disco in Berlin)... u sucked my dick and more...". Same was in Madrid, already on the first night some Brazilan guy seriously disappointed that I didn't remember him, and when I inquired more in detail it turned out that he allegedly fisted me 4 years ago in NYC. So fucking what? Him and the other guy and 99% of them were average or below average fucks. If you dont give it your best and are average, then dont expect me to remember your name. I was letting it go and I have no choice but continue to ignore these half-brained mediocracies in the future but their sense of self-importance just stuns me every time. I have a whole really long post about what took place in Madrid, in fact almost 2 small book chapters so I'm working on posting that partially this weekend. What an exciting place...

I love Madrid!

I met a very special guy. Not a hooker. Nor super smart but amazing for the bedroom and really sweet. Spanish. Hot, does porn too. Oh did I mention he really gets off on fisting me? I dont have a picture but he has hot tattoos and perfect body since he is a personal trainer, cute face, but not cute as a button, in fact has some spaces between his front teeth which when he smiles gives him a the very same strange attractiveness like the street models from the Caravaggios paintings But the best is sex - he is fucking amazing and although didn't do it before to classical music he intuitively knows how to do it well to the music. I am not doing drugs but I feel so fucking high on love when I kiss him - ahhhhh did I tell you he is the best kisser for me - as if we were a hand and a glove - fitting perfectly every time our lips touch each other. I will take some pictures...