We all have our crosses to bear and one of my most recent ones came in the form of a business contact with whom I have in vain been trying to conclude some form of deal, in the few weeks since I have met her.

So far it has proved to be simply impossible to pin her down either businesswise or otherwise, as her mind seems to flit aimlessly from one idea to the next, often sprinkled with a bit of uncalled for sarcasm and vitriolic remarks, which come out of nowhere.

So she called me late yesterday evening, because she feels like she owns me, and as she must have been in one of her foul evening moods, she suddenly and for no apparent reason, lashed out at me and called me all sorts of unkind names, just to vent her bitterness. I was on my mobile and even broke out into a sweat and what must have happened was that my sweat trickled inside the mobile, rendering it inactive. I was so upset at the whole episode that I went to bed very early, sulking and planning to get it fixed the next morning.

When I woke up I found a load of very friendly messages from her, which although not quite an apology, where obviously over-friendly, which meant roughly the same thing. I never ever hold a grudge against anyone, so I chatted away happily with her, when again all of a sudden, just because I was being nice, she suddenly lashed out at me telling me that I should learn my place. I chose to ignore her then, I mean how much can you take? But I later found out that the reason for her bitchiness and acting like a drama queen was mainly based on her sexual frustrations. At least that is what she hinted to me in a very discreet and indirect manner. It seems to bring out the worst part of the Maltese in her.

So I took my phone to be fixed in Gzira, left it there and went to briefly meet my mini monster to continue discussing business at a cafe. She was calm and friendly, even quite endearing. Except when several large drops of condensation from my beer glass fell onto my shorts and right at the wrong place, she couldn’t help saying that I would now feel virile, sporting such marks on my shorts. I really cannot say what motivated her to say that, but my guess would be that she herself was dying to get into them…

Suddenly noticing the time, I rushed back to Gzira to pick up my mobile, but shoot they were now closed! And I had two and a half hours to kill, which with today’s traffic really didn’t make it worth while driving all the way home and back again. So I walked down to the seafront, bought a large beer, found a comfy bench on the water’s edge, lay down totally in a horizontal position on the bench and fell fast asleep beer in hand. I don’t usually play at tramp, but frankly as with virtually anything else these days, I really don’t care.

Without my mobile I couldn’t call, I couldn’t answer calls, I couldn’t SMS, or chat, or go online, or check my diary, or even tell the time. So when I woke up I asked the time to a passing little cutie with immensely tight shorts, who most definitely was a bactrian and not a dromedary… And wow, it was exactly reopening time for the mobile repair shop.

So I get there, walk in and have an instant shock! Standing there at the counter was this big imposing man with whom I have had sexual relations. Well, not really I suppose, as in Bill Clinton’s words we only had oral sex. And to go a step further, I will also point out that he had oral sex with me and not vice versa.

Until this moment in my narrative I really had no intention to go into detail about this rather extraordinary sexperience. But now that I blurted it out, as I always tend to do, I suppose that I really owe you all an explanation. So here goes.

We have loads of gay friends. Overall we find them great company, good fun and they certainly know how to party, often making straight couples pale in comparison. Yes they can be a pain and a tad bitchy and drama queens, but so can my very Maltese female pseudo-client-perhaps-one-day-to-be. So both my wife and I love mixing with our gay friends and going to their fantastic parties and also frequenting gay establishments form time to time.

Many years ago there was a gay club in Paceville which also held drag shows, which was a total scream. We occasionally went there for a fun night out and always had a great time. I must admit however that I always ensured that my wife was there with me, purely for protection purposes.

So on one of these visits the place was absolutely packed solid and heaving with people of all forms, shapes and sizes. There was a show going on performed mainly by a tall and large man-cum-woman-cum-everywhere sort of queen. And trust my effing luck, right after the show s/he ends up right next to me at the bar. Now I very very (very) rarely flirt, in fact it is such a rare move on my part that I even flirt with gay guys without even being gay! Now how’s that for being a compulsive flirt. But like most of my other countless defects, at least I admit it and most importantly of all, I wear it well.

Besides Danny la Rue, I also had a couple of other keen suitors around me, compelling me to constantly look around to ensure that my wife was never far away, in case things get a bit ‘sticky’.

At a certain point I really needed to go the bathroom, so I excuse myself and push through the many bodies and groping hands, most of which aimed to perfection… I get into the loo and much to my horror I realise that the door lock had been removed. How more gay club than that can you get! So I quickly start doing my business when suddenly the door bursts open and there barges in Madame Frigging Butterfly. In a flash and before I could say I’m happily married and really don’t want my penis in your mouth, he was on his knees with my anatomy exactly where he wanted it. Although I was horrified, I must admit that somewhere deep inside me, there was also a slight tinge of remorse, because the manner he immediately leapt down on his knees, flipped me around and caught me – or should I say ‘him’, exactly in between his heavy lipsticked awaiting lips, just from its natural swing, was ample proof that he must have pulled this stunt so many times before, making me feel that little bit less special.

However I can assure you that the terrifying feelings of shock, alarm and fright were at least a few millions times stronger than my remorse. And I can assure all the lucky men who have not yet succumbed to this experience – as if I could ever use another word in this context to that!!, that even with your eyes closed, the rubbing of very distinctive male facial stubble on your parts, coupled with very deep voiced moans, does not quite do it for you, if you are not into that sort of thing.

My biggest problem was that this bastard was a very big man and also exceptionally strong. He had managed to pin me right in the corner, very romantically wedged between the filthiest WC and a grotty chipped sink. I pushed and pushed with all my force to get his unshaved head off my petrified penis, but all my efforts were in vain.

I was literally starting to panic, and within seconds I really couldn’t take it any more. I let out the loudest possible girl-being-raped-scream in the history of sexual abuse. Now image a heaving club, packed full of people, music so loud you can’t even hear yourself being blown, oops sorry I meant – think. And the toilets were literally at the other end of the club. This is the sort of place where you literally had to place your lips firmly onto someones ear and scream at the top of your voice, if you wanted to stand any chance of being heard.

This is all true, and then there is being raped!

I somehow screamed so bloody loud, that somehow Maria managed to hear me from the other end of the club!! So she marched in my direction, savagely punching gays, kicking lesbians, karateing bisexuals and unveiling transexuals, on her epic journey towards my dying dick’s salvation.

Suddenly that door was kicked open, and there stands my amazing Amazon in defiant rage. I had really used all my force to save my weeping willy, but this guy was like a rock – yes a regular Rock Hudson. No matter how much I pushed with all my force, he simply wouldn’t budge. But this was one of the most extraordinary moments of my life, when I saw Maria literally lift this hulk off his feet, swing him round and hurl him out of the bathroom. It was fucking awesome! Just amazing! Where she suddenly found such amazing superhuman strength from is still a huge mystery for me until today.

I felt so good, so protected. It was great that my strong wife had managed to save me and ironically I suddenly felt so so gay tongue emoticon So she grabbed me determinedly by the arm and marched me triumphantly out of there.

So basically this is who this guy was at the mobile repair shop. As Maria wasn’t around, I hid in a corner, face down, until he left. Then finally I got my mobile back, which cost me a total of €120 to fix, just cause of my friendly little chat with Princess Grace the night before!!

Hey and this is Gzira, with €120 I could have got at least ten blowjobs!