Yes, we made out on the dance floor, kissing and killing time four hours inside the bar, grazing each other’s torsos and cotton-covered cocks, sexually drunk and at play, until we almost couldn’t walk. And yes, he tried to talk me into joining him in the men’s bathroom for a quickie. Cordially, he drunkenly detailed the act for me as some minor ass-licking, kisses to my spine, some hand-work on my dick, gentle bites to my biceps, and latex-protected penetration, but only if I wanted. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t the type of guy to get busy in a restroom. Strange alleyways, public parks, and abandoned buildings were nothing that appealed to my sexual likings, but sometimes they did occur in my world. That didn’t happen though, at least not that night. Instead, I wanted to make out with him on my bed and inside my private attic where I could become collaborative with his naked body.