Amsterdam coffee shop
A friend and I spent a good time on a busy bank holiday Sunday looking for a coffee shop to smoke our freshly purchased pre- rolls. Sativa mix, we had one each. We settled on a venue which had an asian inspired theme. Walls painted black, ornately calved wooden chairs. I took note of the wipe clean PVC cushions. The inside lighting was low despite the sun shining in through the open doors on such a gorgeous summer’s day. Music played from speakers in the corner, the audio did not match up to the music videos played on the tv behind me. I ordered my friend a bottle of Fanta and a can of Red bull for myself.
Throughout our trip we continuously pointed out people we thought were attractive. We seem to have the same ‘type’ or at least we had some overlap with our preferences. While we enjoyed our purchases, I found myself eyeing up guys as if I was at a cruising bar. Like the one I recently used to work for, or ‘Dirty Dicks’ which I briefly visited two days before. I started to rate them against each other as they walked past towards the bar. Not on a numerical scale but rather if the one before was more attractive or not.
I felt comfortable there. Even though I got to a point where I couldn’t move from intoxication. I thought about the metal cage around my cock and the bottle of ‘leather cleaner’ in my bag. The little shop had an atmosphere of accepted taboo which mirrored the bars I was so used to. And for me, the temptation of sexual desire.
