Gayleatheroperabears Berlin.

The weekend in Berlin as a sex tourist. In 2006 at Easter time...

Friday:
Little John the English man from some where out of England that I don't know.

I met him once already in Hamburg. We said hi and talk about old times. He sucked good cock and ate my ass out properly. Then after about 4 beers he talked about the world economical state as to what the latest American economical tragedy was concerned. (The world that he knows). Throughout this boring discourse and his game-ego-dance-smart guy routine, I could only admire his nice blue eyes and English accent and found myself lost in his kiss.
The dance of regress described his selfish silence with tongue movements on a dirty becks beer bottle. And only the sweat smelled sweet after he was done.
Fe FY Fo Fum the tongue licks of an English man. 

Saturday: Manfred the Profi-Actor (Motte of this event...“and this I did“!)

I met Manfred at at gay-disco party for leather and fetish.  I in my chaps and leather jacket he was wearing his too.
Manfred made it clear to me that I should not beat on his balls, the ball are sensitive because he has a cocking on.  He went and got a bottle of beer out of the fridge took my hand and showed me where the darkroom was.  I went on to suck him of inhale poppers and tortured his nipples.  Manfred beat on my bottom with his leather belt till it was black and blue.
Fantastic beginning in mean fantastic quiet plastic.  I fell for him and had a crush.

Manfred had to take a break, so we went through the Party in different directions apart from each other.  We meet up with others and found our way back together 3 beers later.  Time did not mean anything that night.  Instead of offering me sex, Manfred asked me for 3€ and made me go get him another beer.  Then he didn't have and more money.  And this I did, for him too.  After I came back he told me all about his silly affair with a star cook from the DeKaWe and about his plans to take a week of vacation in New York in which he was to fly in 3 days time. He told me this and that about his experience as an actor in Germany and I promised to visit him on Sunday after his performance with the Komische Oper  as extra.  Told me I should help him out tomorrow to translate on his tour through Berlin. He was some how magical a handsome, but he did not want to have sex anymore.  I was out of money so I went on earlier back to the apartment alone.  It was already 7:00 am.  Frustratingly yours. 


Sunday: Again...Manfred the Profi-actor.

He did his tour guide thing with the leather and bears both gay groups  (as known as the perverts and the fat hair one) and I did the translations for him in English for everyone that couldn't speak German.  And again (this I did). 
I even filmed more that enough of what he did and showed. Manfred knows everything about Berlin before and after the wall and he's a damned good tour guide too.  He was born and raised in east Berlin. After we were done he hauled ass.  He said he had a make-up apointment in the Komische Opera.  I was supposed to meet him there before 6:00 p.m. or I'd have to pay to get in.
I had to pay anyways but Manfred made sure that I got a ticket for 13€ that was worth 64€. 
The piece was called „Hoffman's Stories“ from Jacques Offenbach.  I thought about our breathing excercice I learned in the acting classes.  „ Spitzfindig ist die Liebe, sie mimmt immer Blindligs“ with means  sharp but sensitive is love, she always copies blind ones.  I am often blind.  Manfred seemed like something real.  And I had a big cush on him.
.
The Komische Oper was wonderful!  Manfred carried a coffin across the stage in the 4th act.  I imagined me being in coffen and taken to his apartment.
After it all was done we took a taxi downtown to the gay area to Marios Bar.  Manfred knew of course as we arrived in taxi that he did not have any more money. Suggestivly I had to pay the 20€.  And this I did.
We went together and he bought 2 beers and he went and greeted everyone the he know everyone it seemed.  We finally sat down together.  Manfred started to complain about how tired he was.  He had worked too much that day and was looking forward to his trip to New York.  This was clearly a blow-off manuver. 
Manfred said thatI should visit him in Berlin when nothing was going on.  He hadn't any more time for me that night.  It did not work out like I imagined.

After I caught the whiff that he wasn't wanting sex with me or anything else, but I was allowed to pay the taxi and his beer.  I put on my leather jacket, my T-Shirt my pride and headed out the door. 
The night air was cool, clean and the moon was full.
Out side on the street I met up with a big John from London.  The jolly English in Berlin. 
After 15 minutes we went to his hotel room and I had the night of my life.  It did not cost a thing
And this I did.  I've given up on Germans in the between time.
Aint life a mystery.  And Manfred...who the hell is Manfred?