It was last year at the Chicago IML, when the entire Chicago Hilton became a heaving leather-clad testosterone-fueled rut camp for four days. Early morning, I was reading Ambrose Bierce short stories in a lobby and this guy passed me on his way back to his room after breakfast. Our eyes met, I followed, he left his door ajar, and what came next was my best fuck(s) of the whole weekend.
Turns out he’s back there again this year, but alas I won’t be because the uptight assholes who run IML have banned T.I.M. – all because we show the kind of sex that almost everyone there is having anyway.
But on the bright side, he sent me these pics and they brought back some hot and fun memories, so here they are.