Disclaimer:
This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further.
All characters and situations are fictional though hopefully plausible and grounded in reality.
The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved.
The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK.
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Hope you enjoy
Barney
THE ISLE OF DOGS?
Summary
After hearing about Playa Del Ingles reputation for being a sun-drenched gay paradise, Ian Hamilton opts to take a winter holiday in the Canary Islands.
Travelling alone, after the beak up of a relationship, he opts to book with a gay tour operator, thinking he will soon make friends with his fellow tourists.
But introverted Ian doesn't make friends easily and when his travelling companions all seem to be in tight-knit couples or groups and no one he fancies takes much interest in him, he turns to the locals to satisfy his craving for sexual domination and his lust for hirsute Latino and Arabic guys.
A few years later, a more sexually accomplished Ian hears the resort now has a leather scene, so decides to visit Gran Canaria again.
This time, he mixes more with his British compatriots, but after finding it hard to pin down a guy he fancies, who is into the sort of sex he enjoys, he fears he may have to settle for watching the drunken antics of others.
Until, on the last night of his stay, he summons up the courage to make a move on a strikingly handsome guy who has caught his eye in the disco.
When his affection is reciprocated, Ian proceeds to introduce his companion to the delights of public humiliation and bondage, only for things not to work out quite as he had planned...
PART THREE - THE NIGHTLIFE
- The Yumbo
Following his hectic time at the beach, Ian decided to spend the following day chilling out by the pool, dressed in vest and shorts to hide his shame from his compatriots, some of whom now giggled with each other as they passed him by.
Although he made good progress on reading his novel, recollections from the previous day kept finding their way into his head and getting him erect once again, making the unprepossessing poolside sunbathers mistakenly assume their exposed pink flesh had been the cause of his excitement!
After beating a hasty retreat with his book obscuring his swollen groin, Ian had retired to the seclusion of his room, where he wanked-off no less than three times over the course of the day, so aroused was he by his recollections of the sexual encounters he'd experienced since his arrival at the resort.
Nevertheless, the following day, after a visit to the "Parrot Park" and a more mundane expedition to the nearby shopping arcade, Ian was eager to resume his holiday sex quest in the place where his compatriots had begun theirs, at the shopping mall which the travel agents' brochure highlighted as being the hub of the gay nightlife in Playa, the Yumbo Centre.
On his arrival, the apartment complex had provided him with vouchers to obtain first drinks for free in the English-run bars located there, which he was keen to make use of before they expired. This was not quite such a generous gesture as it might be back home, given the whole island was duty- free and opening hours unrestricted - a fact that attracted not just party-goers but alcohol and nicotine addicts to the resort in large numbers!
The first thing he noticed on his arrival at the Yumbo was a very upfront open-air drag show, which was very popular with the straight tourists. But although the act was fun to hear once, when he walked past on subsequent nights and heard the same jokes and songs being boomed out over and over again, its charm paled somewhat!
Though Ian came from a working-class background and prided himself on not being a snob, what Playa rubbed in his face was the camp gay world he'd left behind when he'd moved to the capital from the north. The limp-wristed, bitchy, cross-dressing stereotype of gays that had kept him so firmly locked in the closet during his adolescence because of his inability to identify himself with such an unappealing and distinctly unsexy image.
His sexual attraction to guys wasn't just to do with their gender or looks, but also to a large part centred on their masculinity. Although in his youth he had fancied skinny lads around his own age, as an adult he tended to hanker after guys with facial hair, preferably fit ones with muscles - so guys who liked dressing up as women or liked camping it up really didn't fit the bill!
Whereas in London, he avoided the drag scene completely by frequenting leather bars and sex clubs where camp queens were thin on the ground, GC was such a small island resort that every aspect of gay sensibility was thrust in your face whether you wanted it to be or not!
Playa's gay scene reminded him much more of that he'd encountered in seaside resorts such as Blackpool and Brighton back home, rather than of London, not least because of the small number of Black and Asian guys who were visible at the resort at the time.
Aware of the dangers of drinking on an empty stomach, after watching the drag show for a while from the back row of the crowd, Ian headed off for a meal in one of the gay-owned restaurants to sate his hunger before setting off to explore the bars.
The first one that caught his eye was a German one (you could tell by its name) where he found the bar staff especially attractive, but unfortunately no one else! Although the barman, acknowledged his admiring glances and took his money with a welcoming smile, after paying for his drink, Ian decided to move on to the English-run "theatre bar" he had highlighted in his guide which was a Canary Island institution at the time.
Pink neon lights proudly highlighted the bar's name alongside two theatrical masks against a backdrop of red velvet curtains. Inside, the mock-Tudor interior fought with theatre posters, signed portraits of movie queens, adverts for gay leather bars, Tom of Finland pics and displays of photographs from their latest outrageous party night.
The tiny place was dominated by a central bar, above which a large TV set and sound system blasted out extracts from Broadway/Hollywood musicals which paid homage to all the great divas and gay icons - Judy Garland, Julie Andrews, Barbara Streisand, Ethel Merman, Shirley Bassey, Lisa Minelli and many, many more.
A rotating glitterball reflected the stage lights that surrounded the walls, occasionally putting customers into the spotlight. The bar provided a roller-coaster ride of emotional highs and lows to its gay patrons, and to the occasional curious heterosexual couples, who would hear the music from the doorway and linger to join in the familiar songs.
Those more in the know would check out the bar simply to find out what the eccentric staff were up to, as it wasn't the great divas that took centre stage at this bar, but its charismatic owner. A squat, heavily bearded, bear of a man, dressed in black leather waistcoat that displayed his hairy chest had served him with a twinkle in his eye and had seemed pleased when he had elected to stay beyond his first drink to purchase another. Every sale and every coin he deposited into his till appeared to create a flutter of excitement.
On a later visit, Ian was to witness the landlord having a public row with his handsome but volatile Spanish boyfriend when both of them were much the worse for drink and had made a quick exit. On another occasion, he had walked in on one of their parties which featured men sporting moustaches in outrageous dresses and heavy make-up and been persuaded to stay and join in the fun.
Looking around the crowded bar, joining in with the familiar songs, Ian felt he was touching base with a vein of gay culture that until then had largely passed him by and not only elected to stay but to make the bar a feature of all his subsequent visits to the island.
On this occasion, Ian found himself rubbing shoulders at the bar with a trio which included a highly excited and incredibly camp South Asian guy, with the unlikely name of Tim.
The twenty something had spotted his interest in him from across the crowded bar and before he knew it had prised himself and his entourage into the gap that had opened up beside him when one of his less sociable fellow tourist had drained his glass and headed for the door.
Despite their mutual attraction, Ian soon learned that Tim was already partnered with one of his two White companions - a drunken blonde-haired guy by the name of Hans who spoke little English but was compos mentis enough to take charge of the single empty stool and hitch his more slender boyfriend up to sit on his knee.
He then proceeded to kiss Tim on the back of the neck and tickle his lightly clad body roguishly as he attempted to engage Ian in conversation.
The third member of the group, also in his early twenties, was a colleague of Tim's called John, who was sharing his accommodation in a hotel in the centre of town. The guy did his best to cram himself into the narrow crack between them but was constantly being pushed aside by guys making a rush for the toilet located in the corner of the bar behind them.
After giving Ian a doe-eyed "Hello", John lapsed into silence, leaving his friend to do all the talking. Despite him not being his type, Ian recalled noticing him nervously sipping a drink alone at the German bar he had visited earlier, looking deeply miserable.
After a fifteen minute monologue, during which Tim filled Ian in on the resort's best gay watering holes and discos and those in his home town of Manchester for good measure (in case he should care to visit) his amorous partner dragged him off so they could resume their canoodling elsewhere, none too subtly leaving Ian partnered with John, who with a sigh of relief, slid onto the vacant stool beside him the second his friends had vacated it.
To be continued...
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