The Friday before Brighton Pride
So, last night I jumped on a train and headed into town.First, I went to the Star Inn, which was packed to bursting, and overflowing onto the street outside. A rotund bear spilt drink down my left arm as he passed it to his mate behind me and I was heavily cruised by a loutish young hunk who repeatedly rubbed his body against mine as he pushed his way to the bar. He also held his cigarette lighter under balloons to burst them, which seemed puerile. So I moved on swiftly.
Next stop was the Marine Tavern, mercifully less crowded, but also somewhat dull. But at least the barman was worth looking at.
Further up the hill, I came to the most notorious pub in town, The Bulldog, open for 63 filthy hours in a row this weekend. It seemed to mainly contain elbows, so, even though it is ridiculously cheap, I moved on hurriedly to the main event.
This was more like it! Plenty of space and most of the men were naked or semi naked. There was a stunning young pocket punk with red rubber braces over his trim smooth torso. But, perversely, my attention was captivated by a shy young guy who seemed reluctant even to take his shirt off. So, I chatted to him a bit, just to put him at his ease, told him that he beautiful, kissed him, hugged him. We didn’t really do very much more than that, but it seemed special at the time.
Later, down in the cellar, there was some rather more advanced action. Often, I find, when I guy is being fucked, he feels the need to get his head down and suck some cock, and I was able to help out on a couple of occasions. The first was a slim skinhead with a bit of beard. It was oddly uncomfortable to have his stubbly scalp pressed against my stomach. The other was a real stunner, with a magnificent body richly decorated with tattoos. He finished the job and then wouldn’t let go!
Last modified: Wednesday, June 24th, 2026 at 3:44am
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