My First Sex In Dublin Was At A Place No One Could Possibly Guess

It must have been my first week in Dublin. New country, new city and everything was brand new. After a horrible job interview and rain that drenched me to my bone, I was walking around town trying to find the cheapest thing I could eat.

Before I found a chicken roll, he found me.

He asked me if I was looking for something as I clearly looked lost. I followed the voice until I saw his beautiful face. As my eyes found his neck I saw his vein popping up before hiding under his white T-shirt and I imagined it flowing until it appeared on his massive arm all down to his finger.

I lost my voice.

Now, the whole world is accustomed to men training hard at the gym, steroids and Instagrammable bodies are all the rage, but that wasn’t really the case for 2013, not in my world at least. I felt all horniness I had in me rushing into my pants.

I asked him if he was talking to me. He said yes.

That was the moment I knew I wanted to live in Dublin for a very long time.

I couldn't tell him I was looking to eat something since I couldn’t get myself into a meal situation I couldn’t afford.

‘I’ll have lunch with two work colleagues in Zaytoon. I’d invite you if I was alone,’ he said.

I’m generally very confident but I had never been flirted with on the street before. I barely had any gay friends back then and the only time I remember speaking to a gay stranger in public was when I stopped a guy with pink hair in Thessaloniki and I asked him to be my friend.

So back to that Brazilian guy...