Anticipation

The email I've been waiting for has finally arrived. Farewell to far fetched masturbatory fantasies including Penelope Cruz, Ewan McGregor and Gael Garcia Bernal and hello to sordid realisation of my sordid (almost frightening) sexual fantasies.

''Hey,

Thanks for the mail. The sex party will start at 10pm Saturday 5 May. The address is X. The party will end at 4am, with last entry being 3:15am. There is a £5 admission just to cover the venue, you can bring your own drinks if you wish. You won't be required to do anything that you don't want to do, there are no rules, except to play safely! There will be a good mix of guys there so hopefully everyone will have a great time.

Look forward to seeing you on the 5th.

Cheers,
X

Of course, if any of you (men) are genuinely interested and would like to come along to this, a quick message and I'll send you the full details.

Aim: To get J to come with me. For, this is the sort of thing where moral support is most certainly a requirement. Also, I can think of no other way to divert his attention from the sadness of his recent heartbreak. Although the insertion of cock doesn't necessarily push out any sadness you may have inside your heart, it might just help disguise it for a few hours. When it comes to sex, can we really ask for any more?

J, if you're reading this, do get back to me won't you?