On my way to work 2 Fridays ago, a handsome guy got on the train. To avoid him reading my eyes and seeing how handsome I found him to be, I looked straight down at my own feet. But along with my feet, my peripheral vision caught sight of something else.....This guy's crotch. A slight bulge in the crotch to be more precise. This sent my sexual fantasies into overdrive, and once I transferred to the F train at the Essex Street stop, I pulled out the journal I use to jot ideas down, and started writing. And the result became the poem:
So if you're in NYC this Friday, come out to Titillating Tongues to hear these stories told.
I normally go for sexually ambiguous with my erotic poetry. But this month, the poems I'm presenting are DEFINITELY GAY.
However, I'm often the only gay male representation of presenters. So gay guys should come out to show we gay males have some solidarity in not only parties promising scantily-clad staff, but in the arts with clothed participants as well. Plus what you hear here comes early enough to be a prelude to the nudity you lust for later.
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