(Boner)Rubbed the Wrong Way

For those with restricted vocabularies and more or less zero knowledge of the mating habits of gay men, boner rubbing is a shit-dick-hot phenomenon taking place in gay dance parties worldwide. Whereas straight men and women "grind", gay men rub boners. The differences are subtle, but the trained eye quickly realizes that instead of making a typical grinding motion, the dancers simply rub boners like a fucking sabre fight. I tried a non-contact version of the boner rub out with Karl; we both realized that it is a genius dance move. Despite what you may think, you can actually do some pretty cool shit even though you are attached to your dance partner at the boner. The only problem is that rubbing boners creates a considerable amount of friction, and it is highly likely that if one spent an entire evening boner rubbing, he'd end up with boner chafe. But then again, nothing a little Neosporin couldn't cool. Being as it is that I am only 24, I only have first hand knowledge of boner rubbing in the 21st century, so I cannot say for sure where boner rubbing began. MTV's Real World Philadelphia brought the pop-homoculture fad to the limelight through Karamo, one of the show's gay characters. (And one hell of a boner-rubber I might add). Keep these tips in mind as you read not only this post, but future posts to come as well as I will undoubtedly make reference to boner rubbing in days to come.

The fact that tanned, shirtless, back-tattooed, boy toys were techno dancing on table tops at a stallion's pace tipped me off to the fact that I was in a gay bar. A small cluster of Latino boner rubbers, directly in front of the booth playing host to the pentagenerian pork party, provided the damning evidence that I was smack dab in the middle of a fuckin freakfest. I'm pretty sure I saw Froto Baggins there too. The two biggest guys in the bar were wearing skirts and lipstick. My friends started talking to them and they seemed to be honorable; however, their venerability slipped after the cute one tried to kiss Karl. Perhaps she thought Karl was an easy target after she spotted Karl and me jawdropping over some gravity-defying interracial boner rubbing steps being laid down. The craziest thing about these two dudes - aside from the fact that they were about 6'3" 225 and were wearing makeup and halter tops - is that they went home together with some tiny little guy. My mind is literally incapable of imagining the possibilities and permutations of such an arrangement; but hey, I just thought of a new pump thought (aka orgasm delayer).

I went into the bathroom, which was conveniently set up so that you and your partner can take a piss with the comfort and security of having both of your ass cheeks in constant contact. Another exciting feature was the fact that if you had to piss in the only urinal that doesn't put you into an ass lock with whoever is pissing behind you is in such a position that you have to try and scoot between all these asses, with all the attendant cock-against-ass brushes, to get out of the bathroom. I had to tip my cap to the architect. Also, on my return trip to the men's room, I think I won some sweepstakes where two guys suck eachothers dicks off in the stall while I try and pee. I reckon the regulars woulda killed for such a treat.

The night ended up well, after hours party at a fat pad in Belltown. Anheusers and chicks. Also a big silver work-out ball that turned into a game, loosely summarized as a combination of butt-ball, four-square, and a push-up contest. I'm almost positive that the neighbor lady will be submitting a complaint because the wall on the opposite side of her head board was being worked on like a button fly in a boner rubbing competition until about 4 a.m. People who don't drink and stay up late, or at least tolerate those who do are should take caution, I'm pretty sure that God doesn't let mother fuckers into heaven.
~Hank