A Prelude

Huge I mean HUGE, that is my first thought when I opened my eyes to a haze of sand and cats fighting.  I sat up realizing I must have passed out here sometime ago on this sandy beach in Española and some idiot had decided to use my head as a maraca at a Mexican knees up, “I have really outdone myself this time I thought” But what a week everything had come together I was at last a confident young poof who knew what he wanted and was going to get as much of what he wanted as possible or so I thought. 

FIT! Is my only thought on my first night out in Sitges, it was overpowering I couldn’t concentrate on any sort of communication because with every movement there was fast food fucking walking past me with every blink, and for a Pompey lad (where the only fun you can have is when the HMS gay on Tuesdays was docked) it was a beautiful thing to behold.

It was Ursus week in Sitges (bear week or ‘here come the lady beards’ as I came to refer to it) so it was just wall to wall meat feast and being with my gay parents Hinge and Bracket made it all the more fun as I could fuck off whenever I wanted with no questions or judgments 

“Lets have a cocktail at flaky feathers” Hinge screeched (but went butch by the end of the statement) we agreed and after one more walk down sin street which was a walk way through the town centre full of coffee shops and bars full of piranha bears ready to snap I mean the place was buzzing full of every gay splinter group you can imagine Bears, Cubs, Chubs, Killer queens, Clones, Skins, Retros, Drags, Fags, The Fade aways, The New Gays, a poor family who really should have checked trip advisor and finally Blokes I mean men proper men! I was chomping at the bit to get twatted, dance my tits and bounce like a bunny that’s been hit by a truck.   On reaching ‘Flaky Feathers’ the outside was a bright pink drag tail bar with 7” foot drag queens who looked like Katie Price with their nuts hanging of their mini skirts, one of them holding a small blackboard cut into the shape of a cock with the words ‘241 on all cocktails.’ This can’t be ignored, so we went in.   On entering the bar my first thought was ‘this is what it’s going to be like in gay heaven’ full of trash glamour, smell of stale beer and Madonna on repeat.