Definitely an accelerated 3AM situation (Art Basel Weekend in Miami, Part III)

Click here for Part II

I woke up much earlier than Bohoken on Saturday. He usually stirs if I so much as change position, but he slept through my getting up to pee, getting dressed and leaving the room. I had the best of intentions: getting some writing done by the beach. But Palace was open.

Mojitos: much better before noon.

I was having some serious fresh-meat syndrome on Grindr and Scruff, so I decided to clear out my messages. But I kept getting new ones. By the time I'd gotten the situation under control, Bohoken had texted that he was getting ready to meet me.

One of the great things about South Beach is that all the restaurants on Ocean have seating on both sides of the sidewalk (i.e., the walkway for pedestrians makes an aisle between 2 sets of sidewalk seating). It's a very busy avenue, so both diners and passers by become mutual scenery. We enjoyed our brunch on the sidewalk watching tourists stroll, wondering if the tshirt with the sides cut out and the ultra-short cut-off corduroy shorts I wore with boots gave away the target audience of the bar we patronized.

After, we went to go pick up Bohoken's jeans (man, they look good on him). We crossed the street to order the exact same dishes at the exact same restaurant and to gawk at the exact same hot food runner as the day before.

We ended up back at Palace for happy hour, and it was pretty happening. There was a shirtless guy in his 40s with a stunning body and smile. He was rather flirty with a very handsome, very drunk cub around my age. I was totally fucking jealous of both of them didn't understand their attraction to each other, so I started making fun of them to Bohoken.

A half hour later, I was making fun of them with the cub's friend.

An hour later, I was grinding with the cub, and Bohoken was talking political history with the muscle queen. Divide and conquer, baby.

The cub had a birthday party to go to, so Bohoken and I worked our joint charm on the muscle queen (who was still shirtless, btw). He was quite drunk receptive, and it seemed to be going well. But when I tried to close, he totally about-faced.

Bohoken: "Don't worry, there will be plenty of hot, insecure guys for you to hit on later."

Me: "Hey, y'all were having a great conversation, and he let me feel up on every piece of his body that I wanted to. Not a loss. Besides, he probably would have been a lousy lay in his condition. Who gets all swayey this early anyway? Definitely an accelerated 3AM situation."

And then a drag queen made a road-side entrance on a motorcycle.

After a disco nap and some aimless wandering (and maybe a couple of tipsy dramatic lip-syncs caught on camera, care of that bottle of flavored Absolut that found its way into our room), we ended up back at Twist. My go-go boy found us, and Bohoken was nice enough to buy me an amazing lap dance.

Go-go: "Are you more of a bottom or a top?"

He was quite accommodating. The first time as well as the second. 

Did I mention that I may or may not have ended up with his number? Yeah.

Click here to check out that time I went to Australia and drank at some randoms' house and took dirty pictures with them. Oops.