Chapter 5
Night falls. Paris is illuminated by the glory of electric light. In some parts there are still reminders of an earlier time—gas lamps and such. But for me the allure of the night is Le Cul Noir. A fornicator’s delight. Brenton and I have made it a habit. He only ever f***s me and I only ever let his c**k enter me. We do, however, allow others to participate. The previous evening, in the dark back room, Brenton was f*****g me and a hairy Italian squatted over my face while I licked his arsehole. Someone else I couldn’t quite make out was behind Brenton, tonguing his hole as he f****d me. The night before that Brenton was f*****g me and just as he was about to blow, a man ripped his c**k out of my arse and took Brenton’s load down his throat. After he’d finished ejaculating, the
