Rolando's Tattoed Arousal

Nudity Advisory: If you are uncomfortable with male nudity or gay themes, please exit this blog at once. Thank you.

I steeped into the empty bed in the half light after the party had faded from memory. Not everyone had gone home it seemed. A lazy friend wandered around the newly empty rooms wondering if he was going to get a ride home after all. I almost said he would, when from the side door walks in what I thought was a walking picture. His tattoos were almost wet. He had changed so much since the last time. He might have been drinking or perhaps he always shed his clothes so easily. Now that I think of it, he always walked around in his briefs when we roomed together years ago.

I was glad to see him, but all he could say was that they had to come off if he was going to spend the night. I hadn't invited him, but I insisted that we didn't have to sleep like that. He didn't listen to what I had said as he slowly lowered my briefs with his index finger. I stopped him when all he exposed was pubic hair. He didn't like not getting his way so he took his briefs off. It was then that I saw that he wasn't as smooth as I had remembered. Maybe he had grown some hair on his tummy and just a touch on his chest. It was hard to make-out as the brightly colored tattoos were everywhere.

I had never cared for tattoos on men, or women for that matter. He wore his as though they were layers of colored cloth. Patches or irridescent green were overlaid with violet and ruby red patches of patterns and long triangular obelisks. He smiled when he saw that the colors on his skin fascinated me and that perhaps he would get me to remove my briefs after all.

When I complied he looked at my tattoo-free body and said it was too plain compared to his. He assumed I had at least a zodiac sign or two on my butt or near my pubic area. I asked him if natural-colored flesh was a crime these days? He said tattooed people preferred their own kind. He thought I was one of them. I couldn't believe that because I lacked synthetic pigmented designs on my body, I was out of the picture. He started to walk into another fading room in my house and I followed him as naked as he was. His colored thighs and butt slid by the glass and made the light on the other side turn green and golden red as I followed him not wanting this evening to end as quickly as it had begun.

Outside the street was dark. No one was out this late in my neighborhood. He got into his car, waved and said that he'd visit me when I had acquired at least one broken rose on my thigh. I looked at myself as he drove off and felt the emptiness that differences in skin tone sometimes cause between people.

A Night in Sodom

It's painful to read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah in the Bible because you get the impression that this story is probably why lots of people hate gays so much. It obviously reported what might have been a mass rape had not supernatural intervention changed things considerably.

Imagine though, if the two messengers (angels) had not rescued Lot as he spoke to his friends and neighbors about how wrong it would be for them all to rape his two male guests. The story would have been even more heinous and then when both Cities of the Plain were destroyed by volcanic lava, as some have suggested, then perhaps some folk today would say that the Gang Rape Mob had gotten their just rewards.

I've sometimes felt sad for all those homosexual, as well as non-homosexual men and women along with their children, who were destroyed in such a painful way. Some progressive folk have suggested that it was natural causes that destroyed them, and that it was not divine retribution that wiped out all those people, the semi-good (Lot's future sons-in-law and his wife) with the bad. But I start to think that if I were visiting such a sex-obsessed culture that wanted to gang rape every stranger that came into town and took refuge in a religious persons' home, I probably would have been raped, as well. That's nothing anyone wants to experience, regardless of whatever distorted prison fantasies some gay men have. I've had them in the past myself. I even used to hang out in bathhouses when I was a young man that had mock prison cells replete with bars and minimal mattresses. I'm glad I survived to tell the tale.